The Hoodie Girl

Original Edition: 01

I turn to face my very familiar high school building. It is actually one of the best high schools out there. (One of the reasons my mom works so hard to pay the bills). Of course, it is private. It is one of the few private schools that did not insist that their students wore uniforms. I exhale tiredly, wondering if this year is going to be the same as every year. Distastefully repetitive.

I have always been the odd one out. I don't have rich and affluent parents like the others. Nevertheless, I'm proud of who I am, because one day all my hard work is going to pay off. And that is going to be the day. Nobody cares about people who judge you for the paint stains on your skinny jeans, right?

Right.

I step out of the vehicle, taking one last glance at the outer building before walking in with Mia flanked by my side. Then it hits me. I need to go.

"Bye!" I say to Mia hurriedly, "Gotta go," I flash her a quick smile. She gives me a concerned stare, which washes away when she returns my smile.

"Fine. See you at lunch Wren!" she says, before hugging me for a brief moment.

Faye Archer walks past, with a confident gleam in her eyes, and people know better than to get in her way.

Unluckily for me, as she disappears, the pack closes in, and the hallway is bustling with teenagers yet again. If I don't move fast, I am going to get smooshed to smithereens. Okay, maybe a bit over-dramatic, but my point is still valid. I sprint towards the girls' washroom, without a second thought.

I don't make it to the ladies' as smoothly as I thought I would.

I'd barely turned when a split second later I am crushed into something hard, and the sudden force causes me to lose my composition for a bit. Realizing that I had dropped my hoodie, I bend to pick it up, and in all the euphoria, my mind had only registered a mop of dark blonde hair. That is all.

Obviously, I run.

Thankfully, I make it just in time for Math, my first subject. I pull on the sleeves of my jacket, nervously, unconsciously fiddling with the silver chain around my neck. What had just happened? Who did I bump into?

Suddenly, Asher Reed and co decide to make their entrance. I wonder why they bother to come to school, they are so well off that their parents can buy them a degree.

They are all tall, toned, and muscular. In summary, they're pretty human beings. But even then, Asher sort of stands out. He's even better looking than the rest, if that is even possible.

He has an expressionless demeanour; his tanned face is blank, his dark blonde hair jaggedly framing his defined features, with little tufts sticking out here and there, practically defying gravity.

Nerd is not a word that I would use to describe myself. I am not anti-social, just a little socially awkward. Until you get to know me and I'm comfortable with talking to you- that is. I'm not one of those people that can keep conversations going, or start them successfully. I just don't need the necessary stress that's tied to relationships in general.

I've had enough of my own worries in the past few years and I don't need to become another high-school social victim. I believe that if you allow someone to be something as simple as your friend, you involuntarily give them permission to break you. I keep my head down, pull my hoodie closer to my face, and ignore them.

Luckily for me, Asher, and his little gang filter through to the back of the class, and they haven't noticed me staring in their direction. I really need to focus.

So I do. I sit there during the algebra lesson and take down notes attentively. I am actually beginning to enjoy the lesson (Yeah, you read right. Don't judge me) when a medium-sized paper ball the size of my hand hits me on the back of my head. Opening the paper and smoothing the creases out I find he words 'Hey Beautiful' scratched messily in black ink.