HEYY! I'm Vannie and this is the first story I have ever posted here on Wattpad... It's a story written by both myself and a close friend. Read, enjoy, vote...
CHAPTER 1
The computerised screech of the alarm filled the silent gap that engulfed the dark room. A hand shot up from underneath the quilt and blindly searched for the alarm on the small stand beside the bed. Finally retrieving the device, he hit the stop button to silence the screaming box. Failing, he resorted to screaming at the inanimate object.
“Damn you turn off!” he was beginning to lose what little patience he had left, not being much of a morning person. Giving up, he hurled the clock at the wall hearing the satisfying sound of it breaking at the point of collision.
He grumbled to himself as he reluctantly rolled out from under the embrace of his warm, king-sized bed. Looking around the expansive room, while his feet met with the cold tiles below, he stumbled slightly. Rubbing his eyes trying to further awaken himself and making his way past the scattered boxes he was yet to unpack, he hit the light switch, shielding his eyes from the blinding bulb above. Blinking several times to adjust to the lighting, he trudged over to his bathroom sink and positioned his arms on either side.
After attacking his face with ice cold water to pull himself out of his partially unconscious state, he glanced at the mirror. What stared back at him was not the face of a healthy seventeen year old; in fact it was one of a middle aged workaholic. He found small eye bags created by sleepless nights he had suffered for reasons he could not explain because he didn’t know what they were himself. He also managed to pick out small traces of frown lines he obtained by the intolerance and disapproval he had of everyone and everything.
After a quick ten minutes of getting ready, he made his way through the blistering cold towards his car. Neither did he feel the nerve nor excitement of attending a new school like many others often. As a matter of fact, he quite resented high school and its arrogant labels and unfair social hierarchy. However, he managed to mentally sub-side the mini epiphany and focus on what seemed to be a hell written day planned for him.
Unlocking the car door, he jumped in immediately in an attempt to escape the possibility of frostbite eating at his fingertips. Turning up the heat was the first thing he did after starting up the engine. The sweet sensation of the hot and cold atmospheres fusing together left a tingle down his back. Backing out of the driveway, his icy, white fingers reached out upon instinct and jabbed the on button of the radio. The rock music soon filled the silent car.
Arriving at Millbury High, he searched high and low, left and right for a parking spot.
I should leave for school earlier, he thought, laughing dryly at the chance of that ever happening. It was times like this that he missed his sleek black and silver motorbike (which had been removed from his possession in light of recent, unfortunate events) as it fit into tiny spaces without hassle.
By the time a parking spot close enough to the school was acquired the bell was rung, signalling his tardiness. He made his way up the never ending staircase towards the office; it was the first school he knew with the office on the highest level. He scanned he room and locked gazes with a lady in her mid-to-late twenties. Assuming she was the right person to speak to, judging from her sophisticated attire and her access the desk behind the counter, he strode to her.
She didn’t even begin to try to hide the fact she was checking him out, even if there was basically a ten year gap. She analysed him from the damp, messy hair that say at the roof of his head, all the way through to his oversized jumper, jeans and muddy boots. Sure he wasn’t dressed at his best, and yes, he was drenched in rain water, but this guy was born with features that would not betray him.
“Can I help you?” She asked in a sickly sweet voice.
“It’s my first day here, I was wondering if I could grab my schedule,” He replied in his British accent, his tone bored as he waited for her to shuffle through several papers.
“What grade?” She paused, read the timetable she retrieved and continued, “Not year eight I assume”
“No, I’m a senior,” He replied, unamused.
A miracle had occurred and the women had done something right. She handed him a rectangular blue laminated piece of paper that he would soon be forced to memorise. Before he left for the staircase so he could start his solo tour of the school the lady called out to him.
“Enjoy your first day!”
“Fat chance,” he muttered
Looking down at his schedule for the day he swore under his breathe.
First period – History
Second period – PDHPE/Gym
Third period –Mathematics extension
Fourth period – Chemistry
Fifth period – Free
Sixth period – Italian
Because he hadn’t arrived at the end of the previous year he wasn’t given first choices hence his torturous subjects. He hated everything about that program except second period; second period was sport and being a fairly good basketball player, his height being a major advantage, he didn’t mind the thing.
Continuing down the deserted hallway, still looking down at his timetable and a map of the school, he looked for his first period classroom. Moving around almost blindly he disposed of the map in a nearby bin and wandered the halls waiting for something interesting to ensue. Surprising he ran into no one – student or staff – during his little endeavour through the largely populated school. He found the map completely useless and decided that he was better off waiting for the next class; after all, he was busy exploring. He found his locker, shoved in his unnecessary books and wondered the halls. Poking his head into the windows of several classes as he moved by, he found some with students’ heads bent over the desks deep in thought and concentration; others where student were messing around being ‘normal’ teens. One classroom he crossed had a middle-aged teacher yelling at a mass of bored brains who couldn’t seem to care less.
He found his way to the very large lunchroom and out to the immense green field; he found the bathrooms situated around the school building as well as the gym. He eventually found himself back at the office where his little expedition began. Not rally watching his surroundings, he rounded a corner and collided with something soft and small – well smaller than him anyways.
“Sorry! I wasn’t watching where I was going. I was in a hurry to get to-“ she rambled on, apologising while bending over to pick up the wad of papers and few books that were scattered on the cream tiled floor.
“Don’t worry about it; I wasn’t looking either,” he replied in his deep voice, helping the girl, whose face he was yet to see, to collect he work.
“Thanks,” looking up, they caught sight of one another for the first time since the collision, “Do you go here?” she asked.
“First day,” he smiled. He might act like an ass majority of the time, but he would never act badly towards a girl. That was unless it was one of his crazy exes – or those clingy girls who made his skin crawl. He mentally shuddered at the thought.
He took in her small frame and shoulder length brown hair. Her hazel eyes seemed to stand out amongst her features. She had a cuteness about her that made he seem almost child-like.
“What grade are you in?” she looked up at his tall figure before her.
“I’m a senior,”
“Me too! Maybe I’ll see you in class,”
“Maybe,”
As if on cue, the bell rang for second period. Ah, gym… he thought to himself. Walking slowly down the quickly filling hallway, he made his way over to the gym that he found earlier. Hoisting his backpack a little higher over his shoulder, he pushed open the door to the huge gym. A small crowd of students stood in the far left corner, huddled around what he assumed was the coach.
“…two team now! Separate!”
He stood at the door watching them scatter around the court. The group arranged themselves into their teams as they went, awaiting the whistle that signalled the start of the game. A shrill sound filled the echoing gym and balls were sent flying in every possible direction, each person aiming to knock out someone of the opposing team while trying to dodge the shots aim towards themselves. He stood tall by the doorway unnoticed by his new classmates as they locked in an intense battle. He surveyed the room and saw the girl that he ran into that morning had been out of the game and as standing on the sidelines with two other girls. They were both equally pretty, but one stood out to him more than the other. Her waist-length, shiny dark brown hair sat in waves over her shoulder as she ran her hand through it, bringing it back up into a messy ponytail. She secured it with an elastic and went back to talking to her friends. Her grey eyes were staring out under a blanket of thick lashes.
He watched her – not in a creep-stalker way - deep in conversation and laughing when she caught eye contact with him. Her cheeks flamed a bright pink and she turned away from him. He smirked to himself at the reaction he got from her. The girl he bumped into earlier whispered something into her ear and gave a slight jerk of the head towards him. It was subtle gesture that could have been missed if not seen closely or by an observant person such as himself.
“Who are you?” a booming voice cut off his train of thoughts and caused him to break his line of sight and away from the girl..
“A new student,” many seemed intrigued by his Herdfordshire accent.
“I would have never guessed,” the coach’s voice was thick with sarcasm, “I want a name and want to know why you’re here,”
“Well, I think it’s quite obvious why I’m here,” by now the bulk of the students had stopped their game of dodge ball and were either watching the scene before them or whispering not-so-quietly amongst each other, “This is a school. Therefore I am here to learn. More specifically, I’m in this gym because that is where my schedule says I should be. Unless I somehow misread…”
“Cut the crap and lose the attitude!” the coach’s voice bounded off the four walls of the gym, “I wasn’t told about any new students. What’s your name?”
He hesitated slightly for about a microsecond, “Chase Ison,”
A collective gasp erupted from about 4/5 of the people populating the gym. Half expecting the reaction, Chase didn’t let it bother him. Rather he was wondering about how gossip travelled so fast through to a few towns over. This is going to be a good day, he thought. (Note the sarcasm).