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Rated: · Other · Other · #1656817
Carla's mom is dead, so Ch1 where it says 'mom said' its supposed to be dad said.
I couldn’t help but think of him, his dark blonde hair and his mesmerising blue eyes. His uniform shirt showed off his broad shoulders and his perfectly planed out chest.

He was so different from your usual guy, that I just couldn’t forget him.

I spent the rest of the bus ride doodling little hearts and smiley faces on the foggy window and thinking about him.

The bus pulled up right outside the school’s entrance, duh. People in the back got off first, because they always rushed to the front before the bus even stops.

I was about to get up and leave when I realised Megan was still sound asleep. So I shook her awake. She opened her eyes and said, “What the hell Carla!” “The bus is at school Megan. Wake up!” I said shaking her roughly for the fun of making her really mad.

Megan always fell asleep on the bus. But this was the first time that she had never woken up when the bus stopped. She was always one of the first people off the bus. I wonder what’s wrong.

At this point we were the only ones on the bus. The bus driver was giving us dirty looks because we were slowing him down. Finally (after a lot of effort) Megan gave up, grabbed her bag and stormed off the bus.

Man, she really didn’t want to be woken up. But I’m glad it was me who had to wake her up and not the poor bus driver. I rushed after her to apologize for waking her up so rudely, but the bell rang and I had to get to class if I didn’t want a late slip.

When I got to class the teacher was introducing someone. From where I was sitting I couldn’t get a clear enough view of his face. I only saw his back but that was all I needed to see to know who the new student was.

It was him, that guy from the bus. He was the one who was nice enough to pick up my compact instead of stepping over it.

I couldn’t help but keep replaying his voice in my head. And when he winked at me... *Sigh* the whole world could have stopped, and I wouldn’t even have noticed. I snapped out of it when all of the girls in my English class let out a big sigh.

I scanned the class to see where he was going to have to sit. The only open desk was right beside Jenny Marquee! I couldn’t believe my luck. If he has to sit beside Jenny Marquee for the rest of the semester, I would never have a chance with him. Not like I cared

I mean so what if I’m school president and captain of the cheerleading squad. None of that matters once you set your eyes on Jenny.

She was the prettiest girl at Bishop. She had nice hair and nice shoes. She has like 50 different pairs of black shoes. She wears a different pair every day. It’s like she wears them and then throws them away.

Jenny Marquee was like a reincarnated angel. She was beautiful. I mean her eyes were bright blue and they popped out against her pale white complexion that was visible under her shiny black hair.

Her hair was perfect all the time. It was always perfectly curled; there was never even a hair out of place. I knew she wore make up, but it wasn’t like she needed any.

“Carla,” said my English teacher. “Present,” I said. “Skylar,” she said. And that guy from the bus said, “Present”. It sent chills down my spine just to hear his voice again. Why I was so obsessed? I don’t know.


After class, I went to my locker. I was number... 625. I couldn’t get my lock open. The sound of Skylar’s voice was so distracting. It kept creeping back into my head. I mean I couldn’t even remember my combination.

After many combinations, I finally got it unlocked. As soon as I swung my locker door open, everything fell out. And when I say everything, I mean every single thing.

I sighed and bent down to pick everything up. Not caring if I was going to be late for gym class. My locker officially hated me.

“Need help?” asked a really familiar voice. I didn’t need to look up to recognise who was talking to me.

After all these years of knowing each other, I could identify his voice anywhere. I was so happy to hear that voice that I almost (almost) started crying.

I slowly lifted my head up, only to come face to face with Bryan! I let out a high pitch squeal before throwing myself in his arms. Bryan and I had been friends since I was in grade 7. He had just been transferred here from California. He was the one who had always comforted me, while Jenny Marquee bullied me all through grade 7 and 8. The way my life is now, is all thanks to Bryan.

If we hadn’t bumped into each other that day that Jenny was being really rude to me, we would never have met each other and we wouldn’t be as close as we are now.


I ran out of the class as fast as I could. I didn’t want anyone to see me cry. “Carla! Get back in here! Now!” yelled my French teacher as I ran down the hallway. I hated when people saw me cry.

I was headed towards the bathroom, when the tears started fallings down my cheeks. I turned the corner to go down the hallway connected to the bathrooms. BAM! I full out tackled a guy I had never seen before. But whoever he was, he was gorgeous. He was perfectly tanned as if he had spent all summer lying in the sun.

He had black hair that complimented his emerald green eyes. I noticed all of this as we just sat there staring at each other, for about a minute before I realised that I was still crying my eyes out.

“I’m s-so s-sorry,” I said between gasps for air. I hated that he was seeing me cry right now. I hated that he was gorgeous.

I hated the fact that he wouldn’t stop looking at me like I was retarded. And with that I turned to run towards the bathrooms again. I didn’t get far before I was caught by a strong grip that was pulling me farther into the halls.

So I held in the tears, trying to look like nothing was wrong before I turned around to come face to face with those big green eyes once again.

“What’s wrong?” he asked so softly. The way he looked at me, with such sadness in his green eyes. What was with this guy? He didn’t even know me and he already felt bad for me. What is wrong with the world these days?! I simply said, “None of your beeswax,” like a 5 year old would do. I stuck out my tongue for only him to see, before trying to turn and run again.

That same hard grip grabbed my wrist again and pulled me right into his hard chest.

Then I thought, if I don’t look at him, I won’t want to tell him anything. Right after that thought had registered in my head, he lifted my head up with the tips of his fingers to meet his emerald greens eyes for the third time that day.

It was as if he knew that every girl who looked into them would be hypnotised. So I sucked in a deep breath before spilling my guts about what happened with Jenny.

I don’t even know how we got from standing to sitting on the ground leaning against the lockers with me crying into the crook of his neck with both of his arms around me.

Then the bell rang. I stood up as quickly as I could and wiped my tears away. “Thanks,” is all I managed to say. I had just told him everything.

I was beginning to wonder why he hadn’t laughed at all during my “moment” things like that don’t just happen and especially if you don’t even know the person.

Maybe we were supposed to know each other. Maybe it was just fate. “Anytime,” he replied. He started to walk away, as I stood there in the sea of people, but he turned around and said, “My name is Bryan. I just moved here from California.”

That would explain the tan, I thought. “I’m Carla.” I said, just so that he wouldn’t feel embarrassed for sticking around to talk to me a little before going to lunch. Wait.

He said that he just moved here and this morning I saw a mover’s truck parked outside the house next door. The people who used to live there were getting old and crabby. Their family stuck them in an old age home and sold the house.

Where do you live now, is what I wanted to ask, but it was as if he knew I was going to ask. Right before I opened my mouth to speak he said, “I live somewhere on Lockwood now.”

Lockwood! That’s my street. “I think its 211? Or maybe it was 213? I can’t remember.” I inhaled quickly and it sounded like I was about to have a heart attack. Then I just walked away. I felt really dumb for doing it, but I didn’t think that I could have handled anything else.

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