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Excuse the mistakes

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Teagan was a heavy sleeper.

As I stood next to my sleeping roommate, who was quietly snoring and drooling on herself, I mused how she could probably sleep through a nuclear explosion or a train blasting through our room. However, I didn’t have much time to imagine because the morning meeting in the Great Hall started in fifteen minutes.

I was dressed in a pair of dark denim jeans and a Green Day t-shirt, and I had also spent a little time in the communal bathroom to fix my hair and makeup. I didn’t have time to get breakfast, but I figured I could just go to the snack bar in the student center when I had a break between classes.

After another minute of staring at Teagan, I decided to just wake her up. Now, you have to understand that I have about zero patience, so when I wake people up, I’m not the most gentle person on the planet.

“Teagan!” I said not very quietly, and I jostled her shoulder, “Teagan, it’s time to get up!”

“Go away bitch,” Teagan moaned, and she rolled over onto her stomach.

“Teagan, the morning meeting is starting in, like, twelve minutes,” I replied, but Teagan didn’t respond. She just burrowed deeper underneath her covers and mumbled something about cheese and Adam West. I sighed and debated trying again, but it was clear that Teagan wasn’t budging anytime soon.

I grabbed my backpack, which only contained two notebooks and a folder, and my keys. I took one last look at Teagan, and called her name a couple more times with no result. Then, I walked out of our room and hurried down the hall and stairs. I had less than ten minutes to get to the Great Hall, which I’d only seen when Teagan had pointed it out to me on our walk back after dinner.

Apparently, everyone was already at the Great Hall because the foot paths wrapping through the Trinity Prep campus were completely vacant. Now worried that I was missing the morning meeting, I started to run towards the Great Hall, which was across the campus.

When I finally reached the Great Hall, I was panting hard, and I could feel the flush in my cheeks. I let out a deep breath, ran a hand through my hair, and after straightening my t-shirt, I pulled open the door of the Great Hall and hurried inside.

Every single person turned to face me. I’d been right in assuming that the morning meeting had started, and it had been absolutely silent when I’d stumbled into the Great Hall.

I could feel my cheeks turning tomato red, and I decided then and there that I wasn’t going to be the scared little new girl who was shy and embarrassed all the time. No, I was going to act like myself, which was in no way close to a nervous new kid.

I waved at Dean Hayes, who was standing at a podium on the raised platform at the other side of the Great Hall, and then I hurried down the center aisle between the benches full of staring students. I caught sight of Kyla and Maddie, both of whom were cracking up at my entrance, and I quickly sat down on the area of the bench next to them that was vacant.

“Nice,” Kyla whispered, and I winked at her.

Dean Hayes pursed his lips, and I could tell that he was annoyed with me. He didn’t strike me the same as the man who I’d met with yesterday, which made me think that Kyla and Maddie had been right in that he was fake at first.

I didn’t really listen much during the morning meeting, since I was too busy picking at my nail polish and scoping out the other students. Suddenly, Kyla grabbed my shoulder and pointed at a girl sitting in the front bench of students.

“That’s Chelsea Stern,” she hissed, nodding at me, “She’s the brilliant bitch standing between you and any type of relationship with Jack Hayes, whether it be just friends or fuck buddies.”

“Thanks,” I replied with a chuckle, and for the rest of the morning meeting, which I was beginning to wish I’d skipped, I studied Chelsea. Her blonde hair, which looked surprisingly natural, had been yanked back into a tight ponytail, and I could see enough of her clothes to tell that she was on the preppy side.

I frowned and searched the crowd for Jack, and I found him sitting on a bench a few rows behind me. I caught his eye and waved, to which he smiled and pointed back towards the front of the Great Hall, at his dad. I rolled my eyes playfully but turned around.

A few seconds later, Dean Hayes brought the morning meeting to a close, and all of the students stood up at one. “So,” Kyla asked as we walked down the aisle, “What do you have first period?”

“Trigonometry,” I replied, and I ran a hand through my hair. I’d memorized my schedule last night, and then made sure that I could find the buildings with all my classes without getting too lost.

“Oh, you have fun with that,” Maddie said with a laugh, and then she and Kyla both saw something behind me, and they shared a grin.

“What are you guys—”

“That was quite an entrance, Bridget.”

I turned around to find Jack standing there, his hands in his pockets and a genuine grin on his face.

“Oh, yes it was,” Kyla interjected, and then she winked at me before grabbing Maddie’s arm and whisking her away to leave Jack and I alone. Personally, I found it hilarious since I’d only met Jack once for about half an hour, and in no way had a small inkling of a crush. At least, not yet.

“I didn’t mean to be late,” I said, throwing up my hands, “But, I was, and there was nothing I could have done but play it off.”

Jack chuckled and we walked out of the Great Hall together. “My dad didn’t exactly look pleased with you, especially after you waved.”

“I was trying to polite,” I replied, and Jack snorted.

“Yeah, I’m sure he took it as being polite,” he said sarcastically, and I grinned.

“So what do you have first?” Jack asked, pretty much asking the same thing as Kyla had thirty seconds ago.

“Trigonometry,” I stated, clapping my hands together.

“Oh, I took that last year. It wasn’t bad at all,” Jack replied, nodding his head, and I frowned.

“Last year?” I asked, tipping my head to the side, “Are you a senior?”

“Yeah,” Jack said, and his mouth curved up into a proud grin, “I’ve already started to apply to colleges.”

Before I could comment or anything, someone shoved their way between Jack and I. My head snapped to look at the rude person, and I instantly recognized the blonde ponytail. I was about to meet Chelsea Stern, and just wasn’t in the mood.

“Oh, hey Chels,” Jack said, smiling at the rude girl, “This is Bridget.” Jack pointed at me, and then I got my first face to face encounter with Chelsea.

“Oh, you’re the girl everyone’s been talking about!” Chelsea cried, and although she was smiling and shaking my hand like a nice human being, I could see the venom in her eyes. “It’s so nice to meet you, Bridget.”

“Nice to meet you, too, Chels,” I replied, emphasizing Jack’s nickname for her to show Chelsea that she wasn’t about to intimidate me. Apparently, Kyla was right; Chelsea was literally forcing her way between Jack and I. It was actually really amusing.

Jack stopped and nodded down another path that ours forked off to. “I’ve got English, so I have to head this way.”

“I’ll see you later, then,” I replied, and I waved goodbye as he turned and walked down the path.

I didn’t bother saying anything to Chelsea as I resumed walked towards the building with my math class. I made it about five steps before I felt someone’s hand wrap around my arm, and suddenly I was turned around against my will. I came face to face with Chelsea, who’d shed her nice-girl exterior.

“Can I help you?” I asked, taking a step back and crossing my arms over my chest.

“Yeah, actually, you can,” Chelsea replied, setting her hands on her khaki-covered hips, “Stay away from Jack.”

“Excuse me?” I said, raising an eyebrow. Kyla told me this was going to happen, but part of me just didn’t believe a person could be that ridiculous. Apparently, I was wrong.

“You heard me,” Chelsea stated, “Stay away from Jack. He’s out of you league, so save yourself some embarrassment and don’t even try.”

“Okay, two things, Babe,” I said, mimicking Chelsea’s body language by putting my hands on my hips, “One: I can hang out with Jack if I want to because it is not up to you, and two: I can’t take you seriously when your outfit reminds me of a female golfer whose gender’s been challenged.”

Instead of backing off like people usually did, Chelsea just smirked. “You might’ve been some tough girl at your old school, but you don’t scare me,” She stated, “You have no idea who you’re dealing it.”

“Then I can’t wait for you to enlighten me,” I replied, my eyes narrowing. Then, I turned on my heel and walked away from Chelsea without looking back.

I’m not going to lie; it was very surprising to me that Chelsea hadn’t immediately backed down when I’d show that she couldn’t intimidate me. Most girls would have, especially preppy girls like her. Chelsea had just assumed that I was going to after Jack as a boyfriend, but I barely knew the guy.

However, that wasn’t going to stop me from playing with Chelsea. If she wanted a fight, she could have one because I wasn’t one to back down.

*

“See you tomorrow, class!”

I grabbed my new trigonometry textbook and quickly slung my backpack over my shoulder. I was more ready to get out of this classroom than an eight-year-old boy was to get out of Victoria’s Secret. It wasn’t because I hated the teacher, who was named Mr. Hiller. No, it was for another, slightly embarrassing reason.

I’m really bad at math.

At first, I was fine. I can add, subtract, multiply and divide like any other person, but once the concepts got more complicated, and letters got added into the mix, I got lost. Algebra was bad, but trigonometry was awful because the concepts behind sine, cosine, tangent and all of that crap made almost no sense to me. Plus, some ancient dude decided it would be brilliant to throw some algebra in with the weird concepts of trig, which just screwed me up even more.

I filed down the aisle behind a group of younger students, but before I could leave the classroom, I heard someone call my name. “Miss West, please hang back a second.”

I turned around reluctantly to see Mr. Hiller looking at me expectantly. I resisted the urge to moan loudly and dramatically, and I walked over to where Mr. Hiller was standing next to his desk.

“Yes, Mr. Hiller?” I asked politely, although mentally, I was acting like an impatient brat.

“I had a chance to look at you past math records,” Mr. Hiller replied, and he grabbed a piece of paper from his desk. I noticed my name on the top of the paper and paled instantly.

“You should know,” I said quickly as I pointed at the piece of paper, “my math teacher before you kinda hated me, so…” my voice trailed off as Mr. Hiller chuckled and just shook his head.

“Bridget, I’m not about to yell at you or judge you based on your past grades,” Mr. Hiller stated, his eyes light with amusement, “I was just going to offer you a math tutor, since I want you to do well in my class, and here at Trinity in general.”

“Oh,” I drawled, caught somewhat off guard. I’d never had a tutor before, or even been offered or considered one, so that was a new idea.

“I know you’ve only had one class here,” Mr. Hiller continued, “But I think if we get in there and meet and problems head on, you’ll be better off in the future.”

“Okay,” I said slowly, but I was a little hesitant. I have this thing where I don’t like people to see me struggle, and watching me try and do math was like trying to watch an out-of-shape asthmatic try and climb Mt. Everest. That is not an exaggeration.

However, a tutor could also be really good. If I had a tutor who was actually good at helping me understand the foreign math concepts, then I wouldn’t struggle as much. Then it wouldn’t be an out-of-shape asthmatic, but an in-shape one.

“Okay,” I repeated, more firmly and definite this time, “A tutor would be great.”

“Awesome,” Mr. Hiller replied happily, “I have someone in mind that I have to talk to, and then I’ll get to you about it, alright?”

“Cool,” I said, and then I smiled at Mr. Hiller before turning and walking out of the classroom to navigate and find my next class.

One class down, and too many to go.

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