'Another year of school begins' I think with a heavy sigh. It wasn't like I hated it, because I actually loved learning and the subjects we were taught. It was just the people that were around us: the popular girls, the popular boys, the sports team, the cliquey groups that sit at the back of class throwing things -- the bullies. It made high school almost unbearable.

The only thing that made it bearable was Sherlock. I know it sounds cheesy, but it's true. He was my only friend and luckily enough he knew exactly how I felt about high school. He felt the same way, too.

I stood in the middle of the corridor as students around me continued bustling through to find their first class. Friends were greeting each other with hugs whilst the year elevens stood tall and proud, confidence born of experience. New comers look frightened, unsure on what to say or do. I stand on my tip-toes, trying to find a familiar lock of dark curls but instead I was disturbed by someone tapping on my shoulder. I jumped with surprise, and turned around to see who it was.

"Sherlock!" I grinned, wrapping him in massive hug. He's a little surprised by my greeting and hugs me back awkwardly, giving me a friendly tap on the back.

"Hello."

"I feel like I haven't seen you in ages!"

"Eleanor, you saw me last week." He stated as I pulled away.

"Can't I be happy to see my best friend?" I questioned. When I mentioned this the edges of his lips pulled up into a small smile. Flattery really does aid his ego.

"Of course." He responded, finally smiling. "Ready for science? We have a catch up quiz." He then said eagerly, his eyes lighting up at the thought of proving his intelligence. I mentally rolled my eyes at him, knowing deep down I was the same. Even though I wasn't no where near as clever as Sherlock, he liked to rub it in my face that he was.

We made our way to class, the crowds of individuals slowly dying down as we did so. We entered our new science room as it stated on our new timetable, I wasn't at least a little bit excited to see my usual class mates. I wouldn't even class them as mates, they were the ones who ruined my day with their annoying presences. I had already had two years with these morons, and Sherlock has endured three. How he had coped for so long, I have no idea.

Our teacher hadn't even arrived yet, and everyone seemed to just sit wherever they pleased. Everyone was screaming instead of talking, chucking paper planes and pens, playing pranks on each other -- I had to grab Sherlock's arm to make sure he didn't just give up and leave.

We sat down somewhere on the right hand side in the center of the room, due to them being the only available seats left for us. Our new teacher walks in and everyone soon shuts up. She's small, blonde hair, carrying a bunch of books in her one hand and a bottle of water in another. Her lips are dry and cracked, and her eyes a slightly blood-shot accompanied by the bags that had formed under them. It's obvious she's hungover. Great, our favourite lesson is ruined because our class sucks and our new teacher is a mess who isn't going to be able to tame them.

"Perfect." I hear Sherlock mutter next to me, just as frustrated as I was.

"Uh, now then class. I'm Miss Green. Um, skip to page twenty-five." She directs, and we all look around, a little confused. She looks back at us, equally confused at our expressions. Then she realises and lets out an awkward giggle. "Oh right! Sorry, I haven't given out the books. Uh, you. What's your name?" She points to the first pupil she lays eyes on.

"Will."

"Phil, okay -- come hand these out to your class will you?" She asks, completely obvious to the fact she got his name wrong. Everyone despite me and Sherlock let's out a chuckle, finding the situation funny. Will just smirks and corrects her, before getting up and collecting the books from her desk and giving them out to everyone.

Suddenly, there's a knock on the door. Miss Green calls them to come in, and the door slowly swings open to reveal a tall yet nicely built boy, with short blonde and a straight and narrow nose -- the kind of nose that makes you appreciate noses, and eyes that were like two chocolate suns, bright, big and framed by many, many, golden-tipped lashes. He's attractive, I'll give him that.

"Late I see." The teacher scolds.

"Actually, I'm new." He informs, his voice deep yet somewhat sweet.

"Oh, right. Okay. What's your name?"

His eyes searched around the room, until they finally landed on mine. It took me a moment or two to realise I was staring. I snapped my eyes away quickly, and glanced down at the text book that was given to me just moments ago.

The boy smirked, "Edward Murray."

Miss Green rummaged through the bits off different papers on her desk before finally finding the register. "Ah, okay. You've been added on here. That's nice. I should actually begin the class by making sure everyone is here. Uh," She cleared her throat before speaking up. "If I call out your name, then tell me if you're here. You know how it works. And... oh yeah, you can find a seat and sit down now." She told Edward, giving him a polite smile.

"Great, another one added to our class." Sherlock mumbled, not impressed by having our class extending even more. "He look's like he's going to be a nightmare."

"Mhm, yeah." I mumbled back, not too sure on my impression of him yet. He seemed like a hard person to figure out, not an open book like everyone else here. He definitely comes across as confident to me though and he's only just walked into the room. And he is extremely good looking, so balance of probability; he's most likely a fuck boy.

Then again, Sherlock is also attractive and somewhat confident. But he's so socially awkward, and sometimes I don't know if he's even human -- so he doesn't count.

Edward's eyes wonder around the room, searching for an available seat. There were a couple that were free, but he sends another smirk my way again.

And he decides to take the available seat next to me.