I wake up with my head upon a pile of books. I lift my head up too quickly and wince. My neck is sore from the uncomfortable position I fell asleep in. I press my hand against the pain and stretch it out.

"Caleb! Get up! You're gonna be late!" my dad shouts from downstairs.

"Got it..." I say to myself and sigh. Checking the clock, I confirm just how late I will be. Quickly, my hands wrap around the pile of books and I shove them under my bed. I grab my camera and strap it around my neck.

I stop in my tracks after seeing my reflection in the mirror. My brown, smooth hair is spiked in random directions, flying away from my head. My normally colored hazel eyes look darker today. I don't exactly need a mirror to tell me that I look tired. It looks like I just rolled off my floor, which I did. I run a comb through my hair once or twice, flattening it until it's smooth again. There's not much to do about my eyes. Girls are lucky, if they think that they look ugly, they can wear makeup and feel more confident in themselves. I'm stuck looking this ugly. Shrugging, I rush to the kitchen.

"Caleb, you're 16 years old. I shouldn't be telling you to eat something and leave!" My dad says, strapping his watch on his wrist. He goes to work at the hospital that is barely five minutes away; yet, he still leaves a half hour too early.

I move around him to grab a donut off the counter and open the fridge for a water bottle.

"I swear, you are the unhealthiest kid on earth," he grumbles and fishes around the papers on the dinner table.

"Could be worse," I say, taking a bite. My stomach churns once I realize what came out of my mouth. I don't even have to look behind me to know the look I'm getting. I should've kept my trap shut. Out of sheer luck, he simply pulls his jacket on and walks out into the garage.

I hop into the passenger seat of my dad's Mustang and watch the yellow lines of the road pass us by. My camera lies in my lap. I ache to take motion shots as we drive, but ignore the impulse. My hands shake with more intensity as we get closer to the school.

Last year, I convinced my dad that I should be in a public school. He used to teach me through a home school program, but it wasn't the best experience. My dad knows a lot of science. He studies the human brain and nerve system. I could easily get an A+ in science. Math is something I could find myself failing at miserably. My dad taught me things he didn't even understand. I'm going to need a tutor and a lot of help to get back on track with the rest of my class.

There are kids sitting on cemented steps that lead into the school. They are laughing, talking, even kissing. I smile at my new school; it looks pretty friendly on the outside. Now, I just need to hope and pray it's the same on the inside.

"Need a ride home after school?" My dad asks as I shut the door.

I remember my promise to Anna, "Uh, no thanks. I can walk home today."

"You sure?" he tries again. Suddenly, I realize how nice he's being. Too nice. I wonder if he's still mad about me for missing dinner last night. Or maybe he's angry about what I said at breakfast this morning. Did I do something else wrong? My fingers twitch around the curves of my camera.

I swallow and steady myself, "Yeah. It's only five minutes away."

"Okay, see you for dinner," he smiles and dives off. If I miss another meal, I fear for my life. He will skin me and eat me instead.

I sigh in relief as soon as his car is out of sight. My eyes trace the edges of the school: the bricks, the shingles of the roof, the large glass windows, everything in sight. Without thinking, I raise the camera from my chest and hold it to my eye.

After hearing the satisfying click, I squint down to see the picture. It wasn't of the school, as I had expected it to be. A girl fills the entire frame. I look up to find the same girl laughing at me.

Long light brown hair cascades almost to her hips. Even from the picture, I can see her distinct blue-purple eyes. Her smile sent a ripple of happiness through my veins. It was contagious.

"Is this a habit of yours? Photo bombing my pictures?" I ask with a smirk.

"Is it a habit of yours to take pictures of random girls? I don't know, you tell me?" she winks.

I put the camera back to my eye, taking another picture of her, "I think that's a yes."

She laughs again, "I don't think I've ever met you."

I stretch my hand out. She meets me in the middle and gives it a good shake.

"First day," I chuckle.

"Oh, you're the new kid!" she nods, "Caleb."

I wonder if that's how people are going to remember me. 'The New Kid' is my least favorite stereotype. Although, I can't tell her that now. I'm actually doing well at being social so far and I don't want to screw it up.

"Hi Caleb, I'm Meliah. Are you a photographer or something?" she questions and looks down to the camera hanging at my chest.

"Oh," I feel my face and ears flood with warmth, "No, not really. I just do it for fun."

"You'd like the photography club here, then. I admire them, running out into the world and making the world seem so much prettier than it seems. I'm actually jealous of you guys. I can't take a good picture for my life," Meliah giggles and tells me as we walk up the steps to the glass doors.

I smile, "You know, I can teach you if you wanted to learn."

Her cheeks become rosy red and her eyes trail to the ground. We stop in front of the door. I realize how much shorter she is compared to me. I'm about a head taller than she is.

"I don't know how good I would be," she brushes her hair behind her ear.

"Aw, I bet you'd be amazing," I tell her honestly. She looks up to me, finally catching my eyes. We stand there for a while.

I shook myself out of it, "Well, I should probably find out where I'm supposed to be going if I want to get to class on time."

"Well, hey, that's what I'm here for. Do you have a schedule?" she snaps into attention and pulls a helpful smile onto her lips.

"No," I admit, "I might need one of those. Do you know where I could get one?"

She replies with another cute giggle, "Of course, follow me."

So began the crazy year I had ahead of me.