"You had it figured out,
Since you were in school,
Everybody loves pretty,
Everybody loves cool."
-Taylor Swift, The Lucky One.

***One***

Look, I have had zero tolerance for drama since high school started. I cornered myself from gossips as well.

Now that I'm in junior year, I don't think more than a handful people in the school know my name. I reckon it's a good thing for me. Though I do get odd looks from girls. I've concluded it's because of my appearance.

In the past two years, I've never bothered to get dressed up for school. In all honesty, sometimes I don't even look in the mirror or comb my hair when I get ready. Sometimes, I come straight from bed. Eh, I'm not sorry for it at all. I shrug it off like a pro.

Today starts the junior year. I'm wearing a grey hoodie and red track pants to school. Yes, I woke up late again and didn't have time to put anything fancy on.

Though somehow my hair are surprisingly good today. The brunette waves lock perfectly on the edges with a smooth touch.

I join the flow of students walking down the hallway with a mind wandering into oblivion. I've to go to the head mistress' office to talk about switching my math class to anything else but math. I'm not so good at it.

The warning bell rings and the students start running in the hallway to make it to their respective classes. Shit, I'm going to be late for my class. I decide on meeting the principal later. Just as I turn around, I embarrassingly collide with something hard, dropping all of my stuff on the floor, my books scattered on the floor as my bag pops open.

"Are you fucking blind? Didn't you see me here?" The voice growls as I rub my temple as I close my eyes.

Coming back to my senses, I look back up again to see the most infuriated gorgeous green eyes I've ever seen in the world. They are breath taking. As if in a trance, I forget everything, and continue to look into those enchanting green eyes. I take a step back and see a face that can be compared to a perfect Armani model. The second realization hits me, my eyes widen and I look back on the floor, seeing his grey work binder scattered open on the floor next to my books.

Look, let me just admit it. A non hot guy, growling at you and looking at you, infuriated with something that was not completely your fault, you're sure to shout back. But a hot guy with those green eyes..... I decide to spare him this time on account of his looks that had made me drool a good long second.

"I'm sorry." I apologize to him as I bent over to retrieve my belongings from the floor and he doing the same. Unfortunately for me, our head collides again and my brain fluids literally splatter all over the place as I see the universe in front of my eyes, almost blacking out.

"Oh fuck, seriously, dear devil, is your brain incapable of coordinating? Fucking watch where you put your step or eh, your head." He snaps, anger fumes out of him as his face turns red. He stands up with his binder. "Move." He says practically shoving me aside.

For the first time in three years, I'm suddenly conscious of my presence.

Enough of the fucks are used to anger me.

Now I'm not someone who generally picks up a fight but I'm not someone who let's people offend me.

My muscles tense and before I know it I go up to where he is standing and speak. "First off, it's not entirely my fault, I turned back around instinctively, yes, but you could have not walked so close as to bump into me. Second, I'm not your servant and this ain't the eighteenth century so please, think again before shoving me off or cursing at me. Third, as much as I'd love to exchange some curses with you right now, I've a class to attend." I fake a smile.

He grins evilly at me "Would you mind fucking off ? " he taunts me.

I'm taken aback. This guy, still has the nerve to be so offensive yet so incredibly sexy at the same time! That's beside the point right now.

"No." I smile ever so calmly, looking him in the eye. Suddenly, enclosing the remaining space between us so much that I could practically feel his breath against my lips. "Do you have a map to go there?"

I turn around to go before I mutter "ass" under my breath. Suddenly someone grabs my elbow and turns me around.

Oh it's him again.

He smiles widely at me and I somehow knew I was going to be late for the class.

"Trust me love." He looks into my eyes as if he could see right through me. "I've been there." He whispers into my ears so that no one hears. " Torturing souls has been my kind of thing." His eyes gleam as if he can recall some experience of his life.A chill runs down my spine.

He takes a step back and studies the goosebumps on my arms.

He smirks at me and walks away.

I stand there staring at his now faded into the crowd figure.

That was no doubt my lamest comeback and I was actually scared for good two seconds there. His eyes were like those psychotic characters from movies.

As a guy pushes past me I realise I have a class to attend.

I make it to the classroom just in time to grab a seat in the farthest corner of the room

Miss Aniston enters the class just as I take my seat and starts talking about calculus. Great! First class of the subject I despise the most.

I play with my pen for most of the time during the class. I see that Miss Aniston is clearly getting disturbed by the Evans and Thatchers who are talking and laughing continuously. Miss Aniston doesn't seem to have the courage to speak to them, them being the members of A-List, you don't really mess with them, even if you are a teacher.

A-List are like the royal blood of the school. Scratch that. They are(their parents) the aristocracy of the country. Brickdale Academy, our school, is founded by one of the members of A List.

The A List includes Stephanie Thatcher and her brother Casper Thatcher, the children of Michael Thatcher, the owner of RC Enterprise, it's like one of the biggest shipping companies in the world. Then we have Tristan Evans and Joseph Evans, the sons of Emily Evans and Thomas Evans, the owners of Eve Interprise and Holdings, the most famous law firm in the US. Last, but definitely the richest among them, Rebbecca Brickdale, daughter of Justin Brickdale and the only heir to Brickdale Publications and Brickdale Media.

Together, they are sort of considered to be invincible, having influence over almost everything. The media has dubbed them as The A List because of their high status above everyone else. Though, they never talk to the fellow students of the school. They try to keep a low profile but fail when they are under the noses of paparazzi 24X7.

Countless articles have featured them. People in school try their hardest to be friends with them but they shove it off like a pro. Girls will lick their ass just to be included in the group or just to sleep with any of the Evans brothers.

It's really unnecessary.

My reverie is broken as someone knocks on the door in the middle of the lecture.

I look at the door to see the same person with those erotic eyes I bumped into half an hour ago.

Miss Aniston lets him in which is very unlikely of her. She has never let anyone in but the ones of The A List... As if in answer to my thoughts, the guy sits next to Casper Thatcher and they do a 'bro fist' thing.

The class resumes as if it had never been disturbed and I look back down at my notebook and start sketching. I'm awful at it, but it keeps me occupied nevertheless. I'm just drawing random ugly things, until I feel a pair of eyes on me. I glance around to see its owner only to lock mine with the enchanting green eyes that now I'm so familiar with.

As if on cue, the guy smiles at me and points me out to Casper, suddenly embarrassing me in front of the whole class as everybody had been noticing his actions and are now staring at me.

Saved by the bell ring. I quickly grab my stuff and walk out of the classroom without meeting anybody's eyes any further.

***

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