The rest of the day was pretty uneventful, to be honest. Second hour was English 3 with the same teacher that teaches most of the English Classes, Mrs. Bowling. I've had her every year for the past 3 years and this year was no different. She pretends to be super nice the first day of school but it all goes downhill from there. We already had an assignment that we had to finish outside of school since she didn't give it to us until 2 minutes before the bell rang.

Third hour was the same as the last hour, minus the homework. I had some weird science class that I randomly chose to sign up for last year with Mr. Vanhorn, who is actually a cool guy despite his nerdy looks. He's really tall and lanky and he wears these big glasses, but he's one of my favorite teachers.

Fourth hour was Spanish 4. I've taken the class every year of my high school career yet the only thing I've managed to learn was how to say hello, how are you? My name is Miranda, nice to meet you. The only reason I've continued to take it is because it's literally the easiest class in the world to pass. You don't need to pay attention because you can use your notes on all of the tests and quizzes. And you don't need to take the notes because Mrs. Hernandez passes them out before every section. And there's google translate, which is what gets me through every other assignment.

Next was lunch. I sat in a booth with Scottie sitting next to me and Chelsea across from me. She was getting better and better and accepting Scottie and it was making me really happy.

I was mid drink of my chocolate milk when Scottie slapped my arm, hard, making me accidentally bite my tongue. After swallowing the milk that I had acquired in my mouth, I smacked Scottie back twice as hard.

"Dickhead! You made me bite my tongue, fuck, I think I'm bleeding," I stuck my tongue out at Chelsea who widened her eyes before nodding. I rolled my eyes and grabbed a napkin and stuck it to my tongue. When I lifted it back up, sure enough, there was blood.

"I hate you," I looked at Scottie whose eyes were frozen on a certain curly headed boy. Well, man, I guess. I mean, he is a teacher after all.

"Why is hottie tomale in our school cafeteria. Do not tell me he goes to school here, oh my god, I look terrible today, do I have anything in my teeth?" Scottie rambled on and then showed me his sparkling white teeth.

I shook my head, almost laughing, and replied, "First off, he's not gay Scottie, so I don't think you have to worry about that. But for the record, no you don't have anything in your teeth. And he's a teacher, BTW, precalculus. I had him first hour. Talk about awkward."

"OH MY GOD, WHAT! Miranda, you didn't think to tell me this until now? What" smack "Is" smack "Wrong" smack "With" smack "You!" By then I was rubbing my arm quite delicately as it was now sore. Thanks Scottie, you're a real pal.

"Oh my god," smack, "I didn't-" smack, "WOULD YOU STOP HITTING ME. I didn't think it was all that important, I don't know. I haven't really thought much of it since first hour. He's a TEACHER, Scottie. A teacher that hit on me yesterday, and I turned down, quite rudely might I add. He's probably gonna fail me now," I covered my face in my hands and when I peeked through the gaps of my fingers, I saw Chelsea's confused face.

"Oh right, you weren't there. Well basically Miranda and I went to lunch yesterday and what do you know, dumbass over here's chair tripped Hottie McHottie Pants and he fell. Then on his way out he slipped stupid-ass his number but stubborn ass over here didn't want it and then this jackass coincidentally ran into him at the Apple store. And NOW we run into him at school. Fate much?" Scottie explained to Chelsea.

"Would you please stop adding ass to the words you use to describe me, thanks. And fate? Did you forget the part where he's a TEACHER? Pretty sure that's illegal." I pulled apart the soft pretzel I was eating before dipping it in the cheese and shoving it into my mouth.

"Miranda, Mr. Hottie is watching you shove that pretzel in your mouth and you have cheese all over your face. Attractive," Chelsea said, smirking at me.

"What is with everyone calling him hot, he is NOT that good looking guys," I lied straight through my teeth. He IS that good looking, but I wasn't gonna be the one to admit it.

Scottie and Chelsea laughed, clearly they saw straight through me. On the bright side, they were bonding and laughing together. I considered that progress.

I rolled my eyes and wiped the cheese off of my face. I kept telling myself it wasn't because Mr. Styles was watching, but that didn't stop me from glancing in his direction to see if he was indeed staring at me. He was.

I glanced back down to my pretzel and continued picking it apart and eating it, and I couldn't help but be more cautious as to where the cheese on the pretzel went and if it was on my face or not. I found myself wiping my face with my napkin 21321 times more than I normally do.

The bell rang for 5th hour. I got up to throw my pretzel away and oh, how convenient. Mr. Styles was walking towards the same trash can as me to throw away his empty drink bottle. How peculiar that the teacher's table is located right next to a garbage can yet here he is, walking toward this one.

I watched my tray and bottle of milk disappear into the trash can and looked up to see Curly throw his away as well before he looked down at me.

"Hello, Miranda," he greeted me.

I replied with a simple, "Hi," before getting ready to turn around.

He grabbed my forearm and turned me back around. When he let go of me, he used that hand to point to his own face.

"You've got a little something right there," he showed me the spot with his pointer finger, while his thumb kinda stuck out there for no reason. His hand looked like he was doing a backwards 'Loser' symbol. I quickly took the back of my hand and wiped the corner of my mouth, where he showed me the cheese, I assume, was.

He laughed and shook his head, "The other side."

I obeyed and wiped that side off as well, but when I looked at my hand nothing was there.

"Here," he said, before lifting his thumb to wipe the cheese off the corner of my mouth.

My eyes darted around the cafeteria, thankful to see most of the students had left the room and the only ones lingering weren't paying attention to the teacher with his thumb very close to my mouth.

"You know, that's the second time I had to tell you about the food you had on your face. I think you need to be more careful when eating," he said, rubbing the side of my mouth.

Once he wiped it off, he showed me the evidence on his thumb, before wiping it on a napkin he had in his other hand that I failed to notice.

He tossed it in the trash and just when I was about to reply to his comment, the bell rang.

"Shit," I cursed under my breath, getting ready to run to my locker and get my things for the next class and praying that my 5th hour Art teacher, Mrs. Callahan would be cool on the first day and let my tardiness slide.

"Hey, wait, I can write you a late slip. C'mon," he gestured for me to follow him and I contemplated my options.

I could face Mrs. Callahan walking into her classroom 5 minutes late and potentially getting detention, or I could follow Mr. Styles who can write me a slip that will excuse my lateness.

It was an obvious choice, so I obeyed and followed him to his classroom, which conveniently had a free hour right now.

I walked into the empty classroom that I sat in a little over 5 hours ago. Mr. Styles walked to his desk and opened the top right drawer, pulling out a pad of paper. He wrote down my name, after asking for my last name, then signed his name and ripped the paper off. He handed it to me and our fingers skimmed each others a little bit, although I highly doubt he noticed.

I smiled, grateful, and said, "Thank you."

He grinned and nodded his head, "See you tomorrow, Miranda."

"See you tomorrow," I repeated before leaving the room and scrambling to my locker and then to Art.

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