"One, two, three, four, tell me that you love me more..." I sang at a moderate voice level, running a brush through my hair.
"Hannah! Shut up!" Lucas screamed at me from his bedroom across the hall.
"My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard!" I sang even louder, trying to irritate him now.
"Hannah!" He pounded his fist on the wall. I know it is seven in the morning, but I am in the mood to be musical and get on my brother's nerves. It's literally my job as a little sister to irritate him. If only I were getting paid.
"If I was your boyfriend, I'd never let you go!"
"Hannah Marie Trimester!" Lucas growled. I know he is under the covers with his pillow over his head, trying to block out my noise. Not my fault he goes to community college and has later classes.
"You don't know you're beautiful!" I yelled.
"That's it!" He stomped out of his bed and I ran down the stairs laughing to save myself. He caught up to me as soon as I turned for the kitchen, latching his hands around my waist. He lifted me into the air and I screamed. Curse him and his manly muscles!
He threw me onto the couch and I landed hard. Leather is opposite of soft! "Why are you so mean?" I whined, looking into his familiar green eyes. That's how I will always know he is my brother, because his eyes look just like mine.
"I'm trying to sleep! Could you not be obnoxious right now? Just because mom is drunk from last night and unresponsive to your tactics doesn't mean that I am." He glared at me. Here he is again in his briefs. Jeez, he never wears actual clothes.
"I'm sorry, Lucas. Go back to sleep, I'll be quiet." I gave a very convincing smile.
He narrowed his eyes at me, staring a bit before making his way back up the stairs. Someone needs to brush their unruly brown hair.
"I-I love you like a love song baby!" I sung as soon as he made it to the top of the stairs.
"You're dead!" he yelled, running down the stairs and tackling me. I giggled like a maniac.
I'm seriously considering the fact that maybe I should put an ad in the newspaper just so I can have one friend in the world. What kind of person has no friends? Is it because I am too busy? Or maybe it is because I am a bit too sarcastic and bitchy. Or maybe even because I have issues with getting close with people because I constantly make faces at others when I don't like what they are saying.
Even though Ashley is a serious female dog, she still has Anna. No matter what anyone says, they are true friends who have been together through everything. I wish I had a friend like that. All I have that is constant these days is Winston. He is the only person I've known since third grade that I have yet to discourage. I think it is because we have been in journalism since seventh grade together and have always taken the same classes unintentionally.
He's the only person and I don't even necessarily like him. Plus, I need a girlfriend. Also, I've only ever gotten close to one guy way back freshman year, but he moved to Arkansas. Who moves from Texas to Arkansas? That's so stupid! Man, he was my idea of perfect.
Anyways, my point is, I need some friends. I mean, not only will I not have a date to prom, but I will also not have any friends to go with as well. That is my definition of sad. All the Chlamydia losers will go to prom together and I'll be all alone with my Columbia dream. I sighed. Boo, I'm such a loser!
Three lockers down from mine stands a tall girl with smooth mocha skin, and long black hair. Her eyes are a dark brown framed with long and thick lashes. She has full lips that are coated in a perfect purple matte lipstick. She is wearing a gray baby doll dress with a matching pair of boots. I took her all in, even staring as she turned around to face me.
"Do you have a staring problem?" she asked me.
I jumped. "Huh? Oh, pfft, me, staring, pffft, no!" I stumbled through my words. I clearly do have a staring problem because everyone catches me staring.
She laughed. "If you say so." She shook her head. I blushed.
"Well I kind of do...so...yeah." What is even happening right now?
She stared at me for a moment, and then smiled. "What's your name?"
"Hannah..."
"I'm Omunique."
I frowned. What the— "How do you say that again?"
"It's like saying I'm unique, but its spelled O-M-U-N-I-Q-U-E."
I gaped. Who in the hell would name their child something of that caliber? That is an odd name. I would be embarrassed if that were my name. I don't think she has any shame though.
"That's so... eccentric." I smiled.
"Bruh, you know my name is ratchet, stop frontin'. So, why haven't we met before?" She walked over to me.
Maybe because I am anti-social. "I don't know."
"We should hang out sometime, aight?"
"Are you serious?" I gasped. She wants to hang out with me? I thought black people like her had problems with crazy white people like me?
"You a cool white girl, Hannah. See ya around!" She waved and turned the corner, disappearing.
How am I cool? I didn't do anything. I shook my head. This day can't get any crazier, can it? I walked down the hall to pre-cal, passing Mrs. Hawkins on my way. She glared at me and I gave a sheepish smile. I guess it will take some time for her to forgive me for last time.
I took a seat in the back of the classroom and opened up my notebook. This was going to be a long class period.
"Today we are going to be working with two step equations. Hang in there kiddos, it's going to get bumpy," Mr. Scott joked. The whole class laughed and I just rolled my eyes. "Alright, let's begin." He wrote a problem on the board.
"What's my first step?" he asked, walking around the room. He's a very handsome man actually, probably in his thirties. He has hair on his head, actual luscious brown hair. His eyes are a startling blue and he always dresses nice. A lot of girls imagine teacher/student relationships with him but he hints at a relationship that he has brewing more often than Lindsey Lohan used to get caught on a DUI.
I zoned out. I don't care about the first step to this problem, math is stupid. I want to be a journalist, not an engineer.
"Matthew?" Mr. Scott stopped in front of his desk. My head snapped up. Matthew? Like, my next victim Matthew? He is in my math class the whole time?
This anti-social thing is starting to hinder my life. Wait, what if there are like fifty Matthews at my school? Damn it! Well, thirty out of the fifty are bound to have Chlamydia anyways.
"You add ten to fourteen," Matthew answered, his brown hair cropped short on top of his head. He's a light brown color with brown eyes. He's so cute. His skinny jeans were tight, matched with a band tee and converse.
"Correct." Mr. Scott walked back to the board. "What is next...? Hannah," he called on me.
I frowned. This problem is like elementary easy. I hate how early in the school year, teachers always make us review lessons. It is seriously mind grating.
"Divide twenty four by three x," I mumbled.
"Correct again."
"What's my answer class?" He raised his hand to cup his ear.
"Eight!" everyone yelled.
"Kill me," I mumbled.
Matthew laughed in his seat at my comment and I bristled. I didn't mean to say that aloud. How do I talk to an actual boy besides Winston or Cole? I straightened my shoulders and flipped my hair, my eyes landing on his all nonchalantly.
"Are you okay?" He raised an eyebrow.
Okay, so apparently I looked like a dying organism, great. "I'm fine. So, what's up with us learning sixth grade math problems today, right?"
"It's a good change for me. In AP calculus, we get straight to the hard stuff from day one." He rolled his eyes.
I gaped. This dude is in two math classes. Who takes two math classes? "Why do you have two math classes?"
"My schedule is wrong. They have yet to replace this class with what I really wanted."
"What did you really want?"
"AP economics," he sighed.
My nostrils flared. Wow, what a smart little dude. "So you're like really good at math?"
"I'm excellent at math."
"Matthew Honegger, quit talking and pay attention!" Mr. Scott scolded him.
Matthew laughed and then pretended to pay attention. I did the same. I think I have heard of him. He's the stoner kid who always spends time afterschool selling and smoking massive pounds of weed. But, that can't be right if he is in AP classes, can it? I think I have my Matthews mixed up.
The bell finally rang and Mr. Scott passed out these easy peasy two -step equation packets for homework. I reluctantly accepted it and slipped it into my binder. I followed Matthew out.
"Hey, Matthew?"
He turned around. It is as if time slowed. He is simply beautiful. "Yes?"
"Uh, could you tutor me afterschool? I don't want to get behind in math for when it starts to get hard, and since you have already taken pre-cal, it would really help if you'd show me some tricks or something." I bit my lip.
Shrugging he said, "Alright, I'm free today if you want to start early." A big smile stretched across his face.
"Okay." I blinked. I'll do anything he wants if he smiles at me like that.
"I'll meet you right here afterschool. Bye, Hannah." He winked and then disappeared into the crowd of students.
The rest of the day meant nothing to me. I was so antsy to reunite with Matthew it was crazy. All I could think about was how gorgeous his white smile is, or how nice his low baritone voice is. Sitting in journalism— my favorite class by the way— isn't even appealing to me like it usually is.
So far, all there is to do in journalism is to edit the school newspaper and interview students in leadership. I haven't done anything yet because I don't really have to. I'm freaking Hannah Trimester, the best journalist at the school.
"Hannah, edit this if you will." Violet set down a stack of newspapers in front of me. I looked up at her.
"Excuse me, but can't you see that I'm—"
"I don't care what you are doing, you need to be working." She rolled her eyes. Violet is famous for her shoulder length pink hair and steampunk wardrobe. Honestly, I think it looks great on her.
"Do you not understand that I don't have to—"
"Stop making excuses, work!" she cut me off, again. She is also famous for that.
"Stop being a diva, Hannah." Winston scoffed from his desk. He knows how much I dislike editing. I flipped him off. He chuckled.
"All of you can suck my di—"
"Hannah!" Mrs. Hawkins yelled at me from the doorway. Oh come on! When did she appear there? "Detention!"
When the bell rang finally dismissing me from detention, and school, I ran off with the sound of freedom in my ears. I can't believe I got in trouble, again. If my mom were an involved mom, I'd be dead with all the trouble I've been in lately.
Winston walked by, laughing, stopping in front of me. "Oh God, you have to admit, it was kind of funny."
I glared at him, so not amused. "I find nothing funny at the moment. It was your fault I got in trouble anyways!"
"How? You were mean to me all on your own. Did I make you almost say di—"
"Okay, I get it." I rolled my eyes. He laughed.
Matthew walked over, headphones in his ears as he jammed out with his hands, miming a guitar. "You ready?" he mouthed. I smiled and then nodded. He motioned for me to follow with his head.
"You hang out with Matthew now?" Winston frowned.
I blushed. "It's just because he slept with Ashley, drr. After this, I'll never see him again." I patted Winston's arm.
Winston looked away from me and then back to me, his face pained. "He's not a good guy, Hannah."
"You're acting like I'm trying to date him, and stop trying to act like you—"
"Like I care?" he cut me off. "I've known you since third grade. I think I'm allowed to worry over the fact that you are minutes away from getting Chlamydia, Hannah."
"Getting Chlamydia? Oh, so now I'm just some whore to you that sleeps around with anyone I can find?" I rested my hands on my hips. How dare him!
"He's a womanizer, Hannah. He'll say all the right things. You have hardly any boy experience. He aims at girls like you."
I laughed in disbelief. "It's just one insult after another, isn't it? Now I'm inexperienced, that's fabulous."
"I am too; it's nothing to be ashamed of."
"Except the only difference is that I'm a prude if I'm inexperienced and you're a loser because you can't get any vagina!" I snapped at him.
"Why are you so defensive? I was just trying to—"
"Well don't, Winston. I don't need your help. Go bang Anna or something. You'll gain your manhood."
Winston's jaw went hard and he let out a big breath. "Sometimes, Hannah, I wish you could know how much your words truly hurt. Bye," he whispered. Next thing I knew, he was gone amongst the other students.
Something in the pit of my stomach churned and it felt like... guilt... pain... and more pain. What did I do? I shook it off and ran to catch up with Matthew. His car is a beautiful shiny Audi Coupe. This dude has some serious money. I had to open the door for myself and slide in. Okay, so he isn't a gentleman, whatever.
He threw his headphones off and blasted the stereo. The rock music's bass rumbled all through me, ringing in my ears. How did Ashley find him intriguing? Maybe he was really good in bed. He is extremely hot though.
Matthew parked the car in his garage. His house is huge, two stories, gray brick, with a three car garage. He opened the door and led me inside. Inside is even more impressive. All the floors are a soft wood, the walls a warm and honey yellow, several ceiling to floor windows shed gorgeous sunlight upon the room, and all of the furniture is modern. All in all, nice home.
He walked into the kitchen, opening the fridge for a bottle of water. He tossed me one and I caught it. He's so quiet. I don't really know what to make of him. His house is really quiet too. I think no one is home.
"Did you really need help with math, or was that your excuse?" He headed for his pantry.
"My excuse...?" I raised an eyebrow.
"To hang out with me or something, I don't know. You don't look like the type of girl to belittle herself into asking for help."
Wow, he is smarter than he looks. I don't usually ask for help. There is this thing called Google, and it usually tells me everything I need to know when I am lost. "You're observant."
"I tend to be. So, what do you really want?" He stepped into my face.
"Well..."
He placed one hand in my hair and tugged, bringing my face closer to his. His other hand curved onto my hip. I grew warm, quickly. I can't breathe.
"Well?"
"I-I wanted to, um—"
"Shh," he whispered, covering his lips with mine. I gasped, my body curving into his. He lifted me into his arms, placing me on top of the counter. His kisses trailed down my throat while his free hand reached to lift up my top.
I clamped a hand down onto his. "What are you doing?" I breathed.
"Giving you what you wanted." He kissed me again, reminding me of how captivating he is.
I shook my head. "Stop, this isn't why I came by." I pushed him away. He stumbled back, frowning. I sat up and smoothed my hair down.
"I'm seriously confused. If we are going to do this, we have like an hour and a half until my mom gets back. If not, then what else could you have wanted?"
"Did you really think I came by to sleep with you? For an observant person, you sure are stupid. No, you're nothing but a guy." My eyes stung with betrayal tears. Winston was kind of right.
He scratched his head. "Look, I have needs you know."
"That's what they all say. This is why you have Chlamydia!"
He flinched. "Either Ashley or Omunique gave me that shit. I was probably high when sleeping with Ashley though. She's... unflattering."
I gaped. "Omunique slept with you?"
"We were dating for a really long time. She broke up with me to find herself, whatever the hell that meant. So Ashley came by, and then... well, then she probably gave it to me."
"How long were you two dating?"
"For like five years."
"Five years?" I gasped.
He shrugged. "It's all gone now. Anyways, I'm sorry for attacking you or whatever, okay? I just thought you were here to smash."
I blushed. This whole day has been nothing but one coincidence after another. First I meet Omunique, his supposed lover. Next I meet Matthew in my math class. Then Winston tells me to watch out for Matthew, and then he tries to sleep with me. Lastly, it turns out that he slept with Omunique so I will be hanging out with her after all. What an eventful day.
"Interesting... I don't mind the kissing though. You're pretty good at it."
He laughed. "You'd probably be good at it too if you actually kissed back."
I grew hot all over again. "Be my judge?" I winked. Oh God, when did I become a flirt?
He raised an eyebrow and then cupped my face in his hands. That's how I learned how to kiss like a pro. That's right, misunderstandings lead to frenching.