His Savior ✔️

2

I may not have had the best record, but my grades were good. "We do not condone such behavior here at Southeast High. I hope you will make an effort to change, and please apply to at least one college by the end of the semester," the principal said sternly. I nodded in agreement to show that I understood.

I've never had a principal speak to me like that before. But this was my senior year, and it was time to start thinking about my future, whether I liked it or not. The principal handed me a piece of paper with my schedule on it. As I looked through it, I realized the courses were the same as those I had taken at my old school: AP Calculus, AP Government, Physics Honors, and so on. Unfortunately, I had AP Calculus in the morning. Who on earth has math class that early? 

I was looking at the list of locations, but the building names and room numbers were confusing. The principal noticed my confusion and kindly offered to call someone to guide me to my class. He promptly dialed a number on his desk phone and requested assistance. After a brief conversation, he hung up and reassured me that someone would arrive shortly to take me to my first class.

We were both waiting silently for the escort to arrive. After a few minutes, a young girl walked in with a smile. Her dark hair flowed down her back, and she had green eyes. "Hi, I'm Allison Thompson," she said as she extended her hand to shake mine. I got up from my seat and shook her hand. "I'll walk you to class," she offered. I wondered if she was related to the principal, but I didn't ask as Thompson was a common last name. "So, where are you from?" she asked as we walked down the empty hallway.

"Everywhere," I answered her. She nodded awkwardly and led me through a series of turns until we reached a hallway with math equations and symbols plastered on the walls. It appeared to be the location of all the math classes. She stopped in front of a classroom, and I checked my paper to confirm I had arrived at Ms. Brun's class. "Thank you," I said as I entered the classroom, causing everyone to turn their attention towards me.

I smiled awkwardly, looking around and greeting the teacher, "Hi, I'm Bianca. I'm sorry I'm late." It was a medium-sized class with maybe 10-15 students. This school seemed to have stricter rules and was much cleaner than my last school in Vegas. 

"It's fine," she replied. She appeared to be middle-aged with blonde hair cut in a bob that suited her face perfectly. She adjusted her glasses and asked, "Since you're already standing up, why don't you tell us about yourself?" I've been through this many times before, so I know the drill.

 I greeted the class and said, "Hello. My name is Bianca, and I'm a senior." 

"Any hobbies?" The teacher asked. "Are you thinking about joining any clubs at our school?"

"I have a few hobbies that I enjoy. I love binge-watching shows about supernatural things and boys that do not exist in real life," I paused, and most girls nodded in agreement. "I also like soccer," I said, "I might join the team this year, but I'm not sure yet," I added, shrugging my shoulders.

"What college or university are you considering enrolling in next year, and what major are you planning to pursue?" she asked. I stared at her, wondering if these were the usual questions they asked their students. I didn't know how to answer her question.

"I honestly have no idea," I replied. "I'm quite sure none of us do. By the time we're in our late twenties, we usually start thinking about changing our careers anyway," I explained, adding a few facts to support my statement. It's a well-known fact that people typically change jobs every five years or so and often change careers before turning thirty. This trend is widespread among middle-aged men. So, I hated the fact that everyone was pressuring me to pick a school and a major. 

"Okay," she said awkwardly, "wait, where are you from?" She asked.

"I move a lot because of my mom's job, so I guess you could say I'm from everywhere," I explained. Everyone seemed puzzled at my answer, with a few sad faces.

"I'm so sorry; it must be hard having to move so much," she said. I never understood why everyone apologized to me when I explained my experience. I enjoyed moving every year. I didn't like staying in one place for too long; I loved change.

"Oh, it's fine," I assured her. "I think I've lived in fifteen places and been to many states and countries! I've gotten to see so much." 

"Impressive, a girl who travels," she smiled and gestured for me to sit. I looked around and noticed that there were only two seats available. Everyone else was sitting in pairs. One of the seats was in the back near a boy who was now signaling me to sit next to him. "I like you already, Bianca," Ms. Brun said warmly.

"You never said that to me," said the boy, who motioned for me to sit beside him.

"Maybe because I don't," she snapped. I also liked her. I love teachers who can make remarks about their students. "Bianca, this is Justin; you'll be hearing a lot from him, so you might as well know his name," she rolled her eyes. The other seat was in front of the classroom, next to the boy who lives across from me in the pink house. With his hoodie on, I couldn't see his face as he looked down. However, I recognized him by his outfit earlier when he left his house this morning.

I wondered what his deal was. His mother seemed nice, but he certainly wasn't. Should I sit beside Justin, the boy who talks a lot, or beside this unknown person who wears a hoodie and looks like a serial killer? I sighed and decided to take a seat next to the unknown person. Everyone was looking at me, their eyes asking if I was serious. A few of them started whispering, but I didn't mind.

I sat, "take out your textbooks from under the desk," Ms. Brun said, getting up. As the students took out their books, Ms. Brun started pacing the room. I took mine out, too. I reached out my hand in a friendly gesture towards my new seat partner. "Hi," I said, hoping to introduce myself. He finally looked up at me, and his beautiful green eyes struck me. He wore glasses that seemed to hide the beauty of his eyes. "I'm Bianca," I continued. "I think we might be neighbors." However, I pulled back my hand when he didn't shake it.

"Whatever," he said before turning his face away.