A harsh jab to my back, and I'm stumbling forward into the seat beside the chubby brunett. My eyes are kept downcast, away from his reaction, and my music blasts horribly loud but I don't turn it down. I'm nervous, even though I shouldn't be.

Not to be a dickhead, but I don't have to most room and I'm terrified of touching him. His thigh is literal centimetres away from mine, and I hunch in on myself as much as I can.

It's quiet, and I spare a glance at the letterman wearing teenager. His eyes, big and brown with lots of corner wrinkle and bottom lash, are honed in on a figure. I meekly glance up, catching the Asian student step onto the bus and flash a friendly grin at the driver. She waves him off, but his smile doesn't falter.

I immediately find him just a little bit more attractive, and mentally curse hormones.

It's when he walks past us, almost hitting me with his bag, when the chubby boy notices I even sat beside him.

We stare at each other for a beat; he critiques my face, I critique his. He's all round red cheeks with a slight double chin. Surprisingly, his jawline is quite sharp and his Adam's Apple strangely prominent. His hair seems to be suffering from a bad haircut, curling up childishly at his ears.

Then he starts whining, and I just know I've made the wrong decision.

Why didn't I sit with the handsome blond?

"Oh my!" He whines, dragging out the 'y' like a child. I gulp, watching quietly as his cheeks redden and his eyes gloss over. This guy can't be fucking serious? If he cries, I'm moving to stand. "I wanted to sit with Kevin!"

A complete one-eighty; his whine turns to a pathetic yet venomous hiss, glaring at me with eyes that aren't supposed to glare at people. I find myself inching back as far as possible, almost toppling off the seat when the driver finally gets a chance to pull out onto the road.

"You've fucked me over." He grumbles, hands balling into fat little fists in his lap. There's faded notes on his hand, clearly written in something permanent accidentally. "You've made a powerful enemy, new kid."

For someone who is totally shorter than me by a mile, he is somewhat intimidating. His teeth clenched, sure it looks a bit stupid, jaw tight. He has my weight tripled, and could probably snap me if he wanted. With that in mind, I slouch in my seat, tearing my gaze away from him and letting it wander around the bus.

Lover boy from the bus stop has taken the seat by the redhead, who has put his phone away. They laugh and talk and bicker playfully, clearly best friends. I can't spot the pale girl, so I imagine she's sat somewhere behind me. And I'm not turning around.

Not even if someone paid me.

I cannot see the blond at the window either, but ultimately assume the Asian boy (Kevin, if I heard correctly) has taken the seat beside the blond. Perhaps I did him a favour, taking this seat. Maybe he doesn't like the brunett, and sitting next to him would be a nightmare for the blue eyed teen.

Or maybe I fucked him over, stopping him from sitting with his friend.

Who knows.

But I do know that I've made a powerful enemy and it's not even been an hour.

****

I think the idea of new kids has to go.

I've been in school for about an hour now. My bus ride consisted of glares from my powerful enemy, almost falling out of my seat because of potholes and making awkward eye contact with the driver as I thanked her.

Strangely, no one else did.

Probably because she swore at me afterwards.

Throughout this hour, I'd been shown around an ugly, yellow building and assigned a dull grey locker. None of them held decorations like my previous school's did, so it must be against the rules to do so. Wasn't a big deal, really. All my last locker had for decoration was silly space stickers and a picture of me and an ex inside.

Well, he wasn't an ex at the time. He is now, because of the shitty move. But I'm used to break ups by now, even if he was, and I quote from my parents, a 'keeper'.

But now it's time to be gawked at like some freak show. I'd been handed a timetable, and first on the agenda was an English lesson. Which meant a lot of catching up if I want to pass, and I do want to pass. But I don't want to catch up.

Problematic, I know.

The door to my classroom looms over me like some villain from a movie, whispering welcomes with a gleaming handle. I don't want to go in. Everyone is going to be seated, sat with their friends and head down working. I'm late, but fashionably so. Not late enough to be in real trouble, but late enough to face all of my class and be scrutinised for how I look.

With a deep breath and a quick prayer to whatever God is up there, I grasp the handle, turn and enter.

They don't hear me.

The room is full of life. Some are sat, some are stood, leaner against their friends' desks. Everyone is talking. In the corner, a group of guys and one girl play on their phones, talking hurriedly about strategies and game-plans. I recognise the Asian boy (Kevin, I remind myself) among them, leaning close to a boy even more gorgeous than him.

I instantly hate the gorgeous pupil.

Another corner is all girls. They swarm around a large blonde with expertly curled hair and red lips. She's loud and the centre of attention, retelling some sort of crude sex story.

Then there's the redhead, grinning dreamily at a Latino with thick, muscled arms and stubble dusting his chin. With them is Lover Boy, less interested in his best friend and more interested in his note book.

Finally, the blond from the bus. I can see his full face now, sculpted and masculine. Cheekbones sharp, hair scraped up in a small bun. His eyes, army-green and mesmerising, are lidded at he stares off once more. There's people around him, an exceptionally fashionable black boy and my powerful enemy, but he isn't listening to them speak.

I curse quietly.

Empty seats are dotted around the groups, too close to them for comfort. I know immediately that I have to sit with one of the groups.

But who?

Joining Kevin and his friends seems intelligent; they're all so engrossed in whatever they're playing I'm likely to get ignored.

Sitting beside Lover Boy doesn't seem so bad; he seems to be a nice person.

The girls? Seems stupid. But girls have been welcoming and nice to me in the past...

The blond. Or, his friends. There's a chance if I sit he won't even realise. However, my powerful enemy is over there, and sitting near him might start something. But, the fashionista with them looks like a cool guy, so maybe it won't be that bad?

————————————————————————————

I don't know about you guys, but when I'm new I always worry about where to sit before anything else. Anyway, the results of the last chapter are:

1. And a blond boy with a rather attractive side profile, gazing lazily outside and looking effortlessly great. Perhaps it's not the best choice, but what could go wrong? 1 Vote.

2. A chubby brunett with a round face and a letterman jacket. Doesn't seem too bad, right? 5 Votes.

3. A fiery looking redhead, typing into his phone, freckled face flushed as dark as his hair. Maybe he won't even notice me, since he's so engrossed in his phone? 1 Vote.

New choices:
1.
2.
3.
4.