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Olivia POV

Tom's eyes went wide when he spotted me and he froze in his movements like a deer caught in headlights. He took one second to shove everything back in his locker before sprinting upstairs towards what were clearly labeled as art rooms. That was funny, for the five years I'd known Tom, I was pretty sure he'd been awful at art.

His locker door creakily swung open from where he had neglected to lock it.

"What the fuck?" Jenny exclaimed loudly.

I cringed as she turned on me.

"Who are you? What the fuck was that?" She fired questions at me. "That was the weirdest thing I've seen like... in my life!" She exclaimed. "And I've seen some pretty weird things," she reassured me.

I rolled my eyes at her nattering. Honestly it wasn't that big a deal and I actually wasn't surprised by his reaction. Tommy had always been a big baby when it came to me.

"So spill!" Jenny demanded, waiting impatiently as I started to pile things into my locker.

"Well there's not really much to tell..." Apart from the fact that Tom had been ignoring me for seven years and apparently was still doing so.

"Oh come on!" Jenny was totally unimpressed with my reservations. "I don't care how much there is to tell, just tell me already!"

I sighed as I closed my locker and locked it. I gestured vaguely towards the stairs, signalling that Tom could probably hear our conversation and started tugging her out of the corridor.

We made our way towards the dining hall for break. "So him and his mum used to lodge in my house."

She looked at me in surprise. I was sure that was the last thing she expected to hear. She motioned for me to continue.

"We lived together for five years from when we were five to when we were ten and then my family and I moved to America." I paused, thinking back to ten year old Tom's expression when my mum had told him we were moving. His eyes had flicked straight to me as if begging me to tell him it wasn't true.

"He never returned any of my letters, e-mails or calls," I continued, my voice slightly hoarse. "I sent him an e-mail a day for six months, not to mention all the letters I sent on top of that."

I realised that we had stopped in a little alcove in the corridor and Jenny was looking at me with sympathy. "He never replied," I finalised. "So I stopped writing."

The day went past pretty quickly after that. School was fun; the great teaching was another upside of going to a private school. Although I tried not to talk to too many people, I still found myself becoming acquainted with various people in my year.

I had never completely lost my English accent, even for all the years I had spent in the US. I found that the familiar accent came back to me much faster than I would have expected. I guessed that I had spent the first ten years of my life in London and that did account for something.

The school day finished and I grudgingly made my way to the thing I'd been dreading all day. Detention. My house mistress had told me what time and room the detention was to be in, having just had an e-mail from the head that morning. Apparently this wasn't just a one off detention, no. This detention was to be daily for a whole flipping week and then weekly for a month after that! I was becoming increasingly annoyed with the blonde head that had pushed me up onto that table. What a jerk.

I arrived at the library, hanging up my bag on a peg before heading into the reception area or foyer as I'd heard students call it. For a bunch of delinquents, everyone here was rather posh.

There were three students waiting already, chatting easily and joking with a middle-aged woman who I assumed to be the teacher supervising us. I stood awkwardly on the side, not really wanting to befriend people who would only get me into further trouble. I hadn't forgotten my new year's resolution to be good.

Five minutes later all of us were here save Tom.

"Where's Walker?" The teacher asked us all, looking around as if he might be hiding in the corner somewhere.

"I don't know Miss," a dark haired boy in the year above answered. "To be honest I wouldn't be surprised if he doesn't turn up, it's not like it'd be the first-" He was cut off by the opening of the foyer doors.

Enter Tom Walker who had obviously gone to his House before coming here so he could change. He had changed into jeans and a hoodie and he had a hat on his head with his hood pulled up over it.

"You're late Tom," The teacher stated the obvious. "And take that hat off when you are inside." From her tone I got the impression that she didn't like Tom very much. She was being very sharp with him.

Tom took his hat off in a mock bow, "Only for you Miss." It was impossible to miss his sarcasm and I had to fight to conceal my laughter.

The teacher ignored the dig, proceeding to give us each tasks in sorting out books in different bays of the library. In each bay there were two walls of books, a round table for people to work on and a window overlooking the main school field. It was all quite cozy.

The teacher then quickly paired us up according to who we were standing closest to. And because my life was amazing and Tom had just entered the room so was standing closest to me, we ended up being paired together. Fate was just...wonderful.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Tom's fists clench. See! Neither of us wanted this.

The rest of the pairs started to disperse, making their way to their assigned bays in the colossal library. I turned to Tom only to see him continuing to avoid my gaze. Honestly, I wasn't that bad was I? I was starting to get offended by the intensity of his dislike. He could even look at my goddamn face! What had I done to make him hate me this much?

Well, I wasn't going to throw a hissy fit over it. If he hated me and didn't want to talk to me then that was his problem because he was the one who would be going to great extents to avoid me.

I turned on my heel with a huff and made my way into the library, scanning the bay numbers briefly before I figured out a pattern. I stormed down the centre aisle, making my way to the back where bay sixty three was. I could hear Tom's footsteps following behind me but I refused to turn around and look at him.

Before long I was mentally sorting through the books on the shelf and figuring out the most efficient way of doing it. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Tom leaning against the book shelf watching me, his dark brown hair falling into his eyes.

At least that was the same. I clearly remembered constantly pushing Tom's hair out of his eyes because he wouldn't get a haircut. There had even been one amusing occasion where I had tried to cut his hair in his sleep.

However he'd had the most adorable chubby cheeks then which was certainly not the case now. In fact, Tom's cheeks could not be further from chubby, what with how they hollowed slightly under his cheekbones.

His hazel eyes smirked at me and it was then I realised that as I'd thought about his appearance my gaze had wandered to openly check him out. I huffed, refusing to be embarrassed. So what if I was noting the difference between him today and him the last time I had seen him when we were ten.

"So how are you doing?" I asked, unable to deal with the awkward silence any longer. If he wasn't going to start a conversation then I would just have to.

"I'm alright," he said, still watching me.

I started moving books. "Are you going to help?" I put my hands on my hips as I looked at him. He was just standing there watching me do all the hard work.

"Nope," he popped the 'p'.

My mouth fell open as I stared at him for several seconds. When it became clear that he wasn't going to move to help I turned back to my work.

"You always were a lazy ass," I muttered, knowing full well he would hear me.

He moved to sit in the chair behind the bay's round table. He stretched his mud caked feet out on the table.

"The American accent doesn't look good on you Livy," he commented reclining in his chair.

The use of my old nickname made me snap. "Livy my ass!" I exclaimed, earning a few shushes from working students. "We are not on a nickname basis. I don't know you Tommy," I spat his old nickname. "We haven't spoken for seven fucking years, you don't have the right to call me that!"

Tom was very silent and he wouldn't meet my gaze again. I wasn't sure if that was good or bad.

"You're right," He finally said in a quiet voice. "We don't know each other."

I huffed, glad that he agreed with me.

"But I want to get to know you again...Olivia." 

--- A/N ---

Woo!! So what do you think of Tom? First impressions everyone? I'm definitely excited, what do you think is going to happen? (I'm asking 'cause I need inspo. XD) Thanks so much for reading everyone, I hope you enjoyed! - Z x