I sat on the wooden chair, my leg bouncing up and down furiously, as I stared at the white tiles of the floor. I was currently in the principal's office, waiting for him, and my nerves were in overdrive. I was starting to wonder if the girls from class were right, had I done something wrong? All kinds of scenarios start running through my head; did I forget to return a pencil I borrowed, did I accidentally forget to cite a quote in one of my essays, maybe I'm being accused of cheating because I didn't cover my answer sheets the way the teacher always says to do and someone copied my answers and now I'm an accomplice. Breath, I tell myself as I take in a deep breath.

I turn my attention to my lap and straighten out my pleated black skirt that fell halfway to my thigh. Having re-folded all the ruffles, I decide to look around the office. It was a standard office; teaching certificates and diplomas littered the wall in front of me, a window on the wall to my left, and a bookshelf filled with educational books. There was a wooden desk in the center of the room, filled with files and loose papers, several picture frames, and a computer. There were a total of three plush chairs, one behind the desk, and two in front of it.

I hear the door creek open and turn my attention to see Mr Webner, the principal, walk in with a bright smile. He was wearing a black and white suit with a blue tie. He was a tall, handsome African American who was in his mid 40s but looked to be in his 30s. Mr Webner was a cool principle, always made sure no one was feeling left out or was being bullied. He was always cheering for the different clubs held in this school, even attended some when he could. He was in simple terms, one of the best principles in the world, taking his job seriously. You could tell he was meant to be an educator from the beginning. Just one look at his face, and you could tell he loved his job more than anything in the world.

"Good morning miss Lockheart," he spoke in his deep voice, "I'm glad you could come see me."

"Of course Mr. Webner," I tell him with a small smile.

"You aren't nervous, are you?" he tells me teasingly.

"No, of course not." Why would I be, I think. He gives me a pointed stare and I realize that my leg has been bouncing up and down again.

"I was just wondering why I was called. I haven't done anything to get into trouble, have I?"

Mr. Webner lets out a chuckle and points at me as he makes his way toward the back of his desk, "you? I'm not sure if that's even possible." He sits down on his plush chair and gives me a serious look, "do you even know how to get in trouble?"

I gave him a humorless chuckle, his words didn't do much to calm my nerves. "I guess you're right," I tell him.

He gives me a small smile, trying to reassure me that I had in fact, not done anything wrong. "I called you into my office because I was wondering if you would like to be vice president?"

I give him a surprised look mixed with confusion as I speak, "I thought Lyndsy was vice president?"

He nods his head, "she was but her family decided to relocate near her sick grandmother so she transferred over today and I thought of you as the perfect replacement." I give him a blank look. Although I had joined some clubs like debate or the math decathlon, volunteered on the weekends, helped with the decoration committee, tutored; they were things that went unnoticed by a lot of people. It was easy to get overlooked, especially if you didn't make an effort to be seen. My goal was to get into my dream college so I made sure to take the classes and do things that would guarantee me a spot while remaining away from drama or the spotlight. He seems to know what I'm thinking as he says, "I can guarantee you that having, vice-president on your application will look good to many colleges."

And just like that, he had me convinced because I know he wasn't wrong. I was just worried about the blonde hair guy I would have to talk to more often. I push that aside and extend my hand, "I'll do it."

"Great," he gives me a smile and accepts my hand, "let me call Abacus here so he can formally welcome you." I can see as the principle reaches for the microphone and before I can yell out NO someone stumbles into the office without warning. My eyebrows scrunch up in confusion, as I take in the drop dead gorgeous guy looming over me. He was really tall, jet black hair that swept to the side, and had the grayest eyes I had ever seen. He was wearing a plain black t-shirt that was tight against his lean but muscular body, a black leather jacket swung across his right shoulder, black jeans, and a gold watch on his wrist. The only thing more prominent than his muscles was the bloody lip, bruised knuckles, and blue tint in his eye that were forming.

He notices me staring at him and narrows his eyes at me. "See something you like?" he asks in his deep almost heavenly voice, raised eyebrow expectantly. I couldn't deny, this boy had a way of attracting attention all around him, wanted or unwanted.

"Yeah, that watch. Are you going to give it to me?" I say boldly, making my eyes widen immediately. What the heck did I just say?

He chuckles at me and responds, "another time perhaps."

"Mr. Archer, I'm so glad you could make time to see me this morning," Mr Webner says with a hint of anger.

The guy gives him a cheeky smile and speaks in a deep smooth voice, "anything for you Henrix." A small gasp escapes my lips as my eyes widen at the fact that he had just used our principles first name instead of his last. I could see the guy smirked at my reaction, which only annoyed me. It wasn't like I was used to people just defying rules, especially disrespecting an educator like Mr. Webner. The guy turns his attention toward me and this time takes his time as he looks me up and down, the smirk never leaving his face, making me feel weird that this cute guy was bluntly scrutinizing me under his gaze. He leans in closer to me, the strong smell of cologne and a hint of fabric softener? hits my nose, and whispers, "is there something wrong Strawberry?"

Besides the erratic heartbeat going on in my chest at how panic stricken I felt, this takes me off guard, Strawberry, what?

"Mr. Archer," Mr. Webner speaks in a warning tone. "Please take a seat." The mood inside the office had shifted, and I started feeling uneasy. Thankfully, he turned his attention towards me and gave me a curt nod as he curtly says, "I hope you have a nice rest of the day Miss Lockheart. I'll let Mr. Kennedy know that you are the new vice president."

"Of course sir," I say with a nod and stand up. As I walked to the door, I could feel the intense gaze of the guy on me. I ignore it as I grab my backpack and start heading out. As soon as I close the door I release the breath I was holding. People had a way of making me feel anxious and this guy only managed to intensify it with his stare.

The stern but edgy voice of Mr. Webner makes its way through the door as he says, "Do you want to explain what happened this morning? Why do you have a bloody mouth?"

I can hear a snicker as he replies, "you should see the other guy. Now that's not pretty."

"Grayson-" he says in a warning tone, "I hear about the other student in the infirmary right now because of you."

"He was in my parking space," the reply is laid back, I can only imagine him with crossed arms and giving Mr. Webner a shrug.

"We don't have assigned parking spaces here."

There is silence. "No- we don't" there is an emphasis on the 'we', "I have an assigned parking," emphasis on the 'I'. "I told him that and he didn't listen, so I did what any rational person would do in my position."

I hear a sigh of disappointment, "rational? Grayson you hit another person for a parking space. That's far from rational."

A shrug, "He could have been sent to the hospital but I was nice. Besides he hit me first, I call it self defense." His finger points at his head, "rational."

Mr. Webner takes a disappointed sigh as he continues, "Grayson. We can't keep having these conversations. When your mom called she promised you would behave but on top of getting into fights, you're not attending your classes regularly." Another sigh, "Look- you're honestly a very bright kid. One of the brightest here at SilverRiver but you keep letting yourself fall into a bad pattern. I'm not sure what's happening- but I can help if you just let me."

All of a sudden there is an abrupt screeching, I could only assume it was a chair being pushed away.

"Ahem," I hear someone from behind me clear their throat. I had been so drawn to what was happening behind the closed doors that I hadn't even taken the time to take in my surroundings. Behind me stood the secretary, Mrs Avery, giving me a pointed look with her clear blue eyes and a raised eyebrow. She was a slightly chubby woman in her late 20s with fiery red hair. She was currently rocking a light pink dress and a blue jean jacket, while her hair was puffy and her makeup was a little too much to me.

"I need a signed permission slip for being tardy to my class," I tell her with a faint smile.

"I don't need nor want your help," the guy's voice penetrates through the door.

"Grayson-"

"Leave me alone," Grayson says in a tone clearly meant as a warning, clearly ending the conversation.

"The bell hasn't even been rung for 1st period," Mrs. Avery tells me, eyeing me up and down, clearly not believing my white lie.

"You make a valid point. Better leave now before it rings," I tell her and quickly collect my stuff before I am caught red handed listening to a private conversation.

As soon as I exit the office, I hear a door slam. I peek a little inside, and see that he is fuming mad. I mentally slap myself for thinking that the anger only made him look extra hot. How was that even possible? I see him turn around and lock eyes with me, my eyes go wide as he smirks. I hear the sound of the bell ring and I run to my second period class. As I turn the corner, my eyes widen as I see the smirking guy leaning against the office windows, arms crossed, an unlit cigarette between his sensuous lips, staring at ME.