I was absolutely positive of two things walking into school the first day of my senior year; I was in desperate need of freshly brewed coffee from Java Jen's and this sure as hell was not going to be my year.

In a school of over three thousand students, I couldn't exactly blame the faculty for losing my transcripts. I wasn't exactly a stand out student; I wasn't a star athlete and had no place in any of the student councils or clubs. I was just a student that floated on by with one thing on my agenda. Graduation. Unfortunately, losing my transcripts only proved to be at the top of an extraordinarily long list of things that went wrong throughout the rest of the day.

Once my paperwork was recovered, it was shoved into my hands without much of an apology. I cringed internally at the sight of the classes I'd been thrown into, not one of them an elective I chose. It was safe to say I'd be making a reappearance before I left for the day to try and bargain with my counselor.

"You look like shit." a quiet voice broke my concentration on my journey down the hall to first period.

"They couldn't find my transcripts." I slowed to a stop at my locker. "And I literally don't have one class I wanna be in."

Lifting my head, I shot my best friend a weary look. I had no doubt in my mind Bryan had drunk a full pot of coffee before coming in. His brown eyes were slightly dilated, gold flecks dancing around in them as he shifted back and forth on his feet anxiously. It had only been a couple days since I'd seen him last, but he had buzzed off the Afro he'd been trying to grow out for the last six months sometime during the last forty-two hours.

"Poor you." he feigned sympathy. "What is poor Reese gonna do without me?"

I crossed my arms. "I seem to remember I'm your ride home, idiot."

He cracked a smile.

"Okay, okay. Honestly, that sucks." he squeezed my shoulder. "But try and suck it up, Re, it'll all smooth out in a couple days, I'm sure."

I mocked him under my breath, earning a dirty look out of him. Smiling sheepishly, I started to back into my English classroom.

"I'll see you at lunch!" I called, startling a few girls gossiping in front of my locker before ducking in and hurrying to the back of the classroom.

I was stopped midway.

"Miss Taylor!" I winced at the sound of Mr. Herring's voice echoing through the room. "Please take your assigned seat."

"Assigned seat?" I responded confusedly, turning around to face the elderly man. My English teacher narrowed his eyes for a moment, then held his hand out in a gesture toward the table right in the middle of the classroom.

I'd been a student aide for this class last year as an elective, and we'd had a decent enough rapport. But seeing his look of irritation now, I understood that I'd gone from a helping hand he didn't have too much say over to one of his pupils. 

His white brows furrowed. "For this semester, you will be partnered for a project. Please take a seat."

My lack of coffee irritation almost got the best of me, my lips starting to form an angry comeback. Realizing what I was about to say, I made my way to the table and slung my backpack over the chair, watching the door as the rest of the class started to pile in.

Everyone wandered around aimlessly until they understood the  order of things and finally took a seat. A small bubble of hope spread through my chest when the bell rang and nobody had taken a seat beside me.

I'd be on my own for the semester.

"Alright, I know many of you are-"

The door was thrown open dramatically, revealing our star Quarterback, Liam Scott hunched over in the door way. "I'm here."

Mr. Herring rested a hand on Liam's back, smiling sympathetically.

"It's nice to see you again, Mr. Scott. Please find your seat."

Mr. Herring had to be the only teacher in this school that had an unnatural bias toward the football team. He gave them far more leeway than they deserved, and under no circumstances would give them a bad grade. He would always find a work around so they wouldn't be kicked off the team. Bryan was sure it had something to do with the teacher himself being a player in high school.

"Hey." Liam dropped into the seat beside me with a flirtatious smirk. I crossed my arms and turned my back to him, focusing on what our teacher was saying.

Not today, Scott.

"For the rest of the semester, you will be working on a project in pairs. For this project, you will be researching four authors from novels you've read over the last three years that you feel you both identify with. You will create a presentation and give an oral report on it for a full grade. Any questions?"

I leaned back in my chair with a sigh, throwing Liam a quick look.

He was busy on his cell phone to hear a word that left our teacher's mouth, lips curving into a smirk. It wasn't until Mr. Herring stapled a couple pieces of paper that Liam jumped a few inches in his chair and set his phone face down, glancing around us to ensure nobody else had seen what happened.

"So how about we work something out here?" he suggested.

I laughed coldly. "I'm not doing the project for you, Liam."

The football player clearly wasn't used to not getting his way, because he crossed his arms on the cold table top with a grimace. 

"Why? We both know you'll get us an A and we won't have to waste our time working on the shit project together." he answered.

I couldn't deny that he was partially right. Even if we worked out a schedule that worked for us both and met up, I'd be doing most of the work anyway. He'd be too busy at practice and working out to make time for the project.

"Look, Liam, go talk to Mr. Herring if you can't handle the project. I've made this mistake once and am not doing it again." I muttered.

He rolled his eyes and stretched his arms out in front of him. "Come on, Taylor. We both know there's gotta be some way you can do most of this project."

"So you can go out and mess around with your friends? Steal another car?" I snapped.

Liam Scott wasn't exactly a "bad boy" but had the tendencies of one. He kept his grades up by forcing work on to other people or having someone do the work for him in general. He rode motorcycles and drove a Ferrari, had a new girl hanging off his arm every day. He was everything I hated and I just had to be forced to work with him for four and a half months.

"Taylor, come on." he tried again.

I tried to avert my eyes, but ended up falling into his. Light was refracting off the piercing gray-blue, a clear amusement over the situation circling in them. After a moment, they started to dull and he sighed.

He really couldn't do this project.

"Okay, maybe I can take most of the weight of the project." I stated.

His head whipped up. "But?"

"But you'll have to agree to a few of the terms and conditions I have first."

"Like?" he quirked an eyebrow.

I pried my notebook from my backpack and dropped it on to the table with a smile playing on my lips, the eraser of my pencil tapping against the tablet.

"I don't know." maybe this wouldn't be so bad. "I guess we'll just have to wait and see, won't we?"

***AN****

*Unedited*

Hey guys! I hope you enjoyed! 

The rest of the book will be fun, I promise! The first chapter will be posted tonight!

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