"Oh, well, thanks. But me and Mason? Ew, like never. I don't want anything to do with him and his jerk-face friends, especially that Aiden asshole."

She looks at me and her blue eyes light up with recognition. "Oh my God! You're the girl who told off Aiden a couple of weeks ago! I knew there was a reason I liked you when I first saw you, other than your cute shoes."

"You saw?"

"I didn't have too! Everyone was talking about it. What happened? Rumors were going around that you dropped out of school and moved to Antarctica out of fear he'd retaliate."

"Please, I'm not scared of that asshole. Annoyed? Yes. Aggravated? Definitely. But scared? Never," I reply.

"I think we'll be great friends." She smiles at me. "I'm Charlotte, by the way, and no, you may not call me Charlie. Char? Yes. But I am not a man and therefore do not call me Charlie."

"Amelia." I laugh.

"Let me see your schedule. Maybe we'll have some other classes together!" She squeals. "We have chemistry together third period and then we can go to lunch!"

"Sounds good." Genuinely smiling for the first time in a long time, I push down the echo of my mom's voice reminding me that I'm not supposed to be making friends.

A man in his early forties walks in and sets his briefcase down on the teacher's desk, and we can't chat anymore as class begins. After first period and promising a very energetic Charlotte that I'd sit with her in chemistry, I find myself sitting near the front of my second-period class: calculus.

I'm so excited! I'm going to have so much fun in this class!

Sarcasm. That was sarcasm.

Just as the bell rings the asshole himself waltzes in, talking to a boy with dark-brown-almost-black hair—the fourth walking-tree BFF.

Neither Aiden nor his friend see me, and they take seats near the back on the opposite side of the class. Sliding farther down in my seat, I pray that I get through my allotted torture without him noticing me.

Class goes by without any problems, answering all my prayers. Wanting to get out of here, like, ten minutes ago, I quickly shove everything back into my bag, but I'm in such a rush that my notebook falls to the floor.

"Shit," I say under my breath.

Just as I'm about to grab it, a large hand gets to it first. I stand up and come face to chest with the breathtakingly handsome Aiden, who is holding my notebook in his hands. This moment is so cliché I'm tempted to roll my eyes.

His gray eyes are indecipherable, and I take my notebook from him without breaking eye contact and without resistance on his part. I stand there, looking into his eyes with my own questioning ones, and then turn around and walk out the door and toward third-period chemistry.

That was weird. And what's he doing in calculus anyway? Isn't it, like, illegal to be gorgeous, physically fit, and smart if you have a horrible personality? Wow, I want to speak to whoever decides who gets what genes—this is seriously unfair.

I get to chemistry early and see Charlotte sitting at a desk made for two people near the middle of the classroom. She enthusiastically waves me over, so I take a seat next to her.

"How was calculus?" she asks, as if she already knows how much I adore the subject.

"Oh, you know calculus, it's always fun! But Aiden and his friend are in my class." I try not to sound bitter.

Her eyes widen. "Did he say something? Do something? And wait, which friend?"

"Well, it wasn't Mason or Noah, because I know them. This one was tall, muscular, and pretty handsome, I have to admit." What I don't tell her is that he's not as cute as Aiden. What? I've got eyes! I can't help what they're attracted to! "He's kind of pale, dark-brown hair, almost black," I continue.

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by Jessica Cunsolo
@AvaViolet
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