Avery

   I was considering it a God given blessing that I managed to get away from the guys without too much trouble. With my luck, the only person that had spoken up was, of course, Marshall. What a wonderful way to start out the day. Hopefully, I wouldn’t have any classes with the guys until later on in the day when I finally had my thoughts straightened out. 

 But that was wishful thinking, because that probably wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

    I stood in line with the other jumble of seniors waiting to grab our schedules from a frazzled office receptionist who looked like she was seconds away from bursting into tears. When I finally managed to grab the little scrap of paper, I breathed a sigh of relief when I glanced over my classes.

  I had the typical core classes, like usual, but I nearly gave a leap of joy when I saw that I had finally gotten Astronomy after two years of trying to get into the class.

 Thinking about the unknown and the universe and all of the possibilities that could be out there was my weakness. I liked to think about everything that was impossible for us to know, and keep hoping that someday, things were going to turn out all right. Not just for myself, but for everyone else in the world, too.

   I could have gladly stayed in the middle of the hallway, pondering the unknown, but then I would’ve gotten trampled and that would have gotten us nowhere.  My first hour class was AP Calculus, and I felt some bit of relief knowing that Marshall or Jack wouldn’t be joining me there. Not that they weren’t smart or anything – they just didn’t apply themselves in class.

  Biting back a sigh, I trudged my way down the packed hallways towards the math corridor. Thankfully I wasn’t recognized by anyone yet, so that at least meant I would get to class on time.

 The second I stepped into the classroom, dreading the ever familiar smell of cleaning supplies and sharpened pencils, I was greeted with a loud shout of, “AVERY!”

  I fought back a small smile when I saw Alana Fuentes lounging in a seat towards the middle of the classroom, looking at perfectly at ease and dressed fashionably as always. Granted, the girl had once been a crony of the ever friendly Maggie Petrolas, but things had changed over the last year.

  If I had a “girl best friend”, it would probably be Alana Fuentes. The girl and I shared too many secrets and crushes over boys since the sixth grade for us to not be friends.

  “Hey, chica,” I greeted her with a smile as I took a seat beside her.

  Alana grinned in response, flashing her straight white teeth. It definitely paid to have a father who was a dentist. “You look pretty cheery. That good of a morning, eh?”

  I rolled my eyes as I pulled a notebook and pen out of my bag. “It was simply fabulous.”

Alana snickered as she flipped her shiny brown hair over her shoulder. “I’m going to take a wild guess and say that one of the boys pissed you off again?”

 I pursed my lips, pulling a sour face. “You could say that, I suppose.”

  We started chattering about how boring we thought school was going to be this year or how we hoped that the cafeteria lunches were going to be at least somewhat edible this year. Nothing passed the time more than chattering about inane things. 

 It was when there was an outburst of unintentional giggles from a group of girls towards the front of the classroom did I realize it was going to be impossible to have a class sometime this year where there’s peace and quiet.

 Sure enough, when I glanced over my shoulder, I saw Nick Petrolas sauntering into the room like he owned the place, a smirk curling at the corners of his lips.

  I slunk forward in my seat and flipped my hair over my shoulder, trying to remain inconspicuous, but of course it didn’t work.

  “Hey, Avery,” one of the girls up front teased, playing with her hair. “Isn’t that your boyfriend over there?”

  I muttered a curse under my breath, tossing a glare in the annoying girl’s direction. She just smiled back sweetly.  

 “Are you avoiding me, Aves?” Nick asked in a teasingly serious voice, dropping into the empty seat behind me.

  I scowled, staring straight ahead, gritting my teeth. “What would have ever given you that idea, Nicholas?”

  “You ran off like a bat out of hell earlier in the parking lot. That, and the look on your face that says you’re itching to smack people.”

“I wonder why.”

 “Excuse me, class!” Ms. Michaels, the timid, nervous looking new teacher said oudly, calling us all to attention. “It’s time to get started on today’s work!”

 At the very least, more than complicated math problems would be enough to distract me from my annoying best friend behind me that kept aiming kicks at the back of my chair. It was all I could do not to grab a pencil and chuck it at his head.

 There was even a point when Ms. Michaels was going over derivatives where I wanted to scream, but that wouldn’t have been the smartest idea. This had happened before and the outcome hadn’t been too particularly pleasant.

  I breathed out a sigh of relief when the nasally school bell rang, signaling the end of class, and immediately started packing up my things, the better to get out of the class faster.

  “Maybe I’ll see you later in the day, eh, Avery?” Alana said teasingly as she stood, tossing her bag over her shoulder.

 “Definitely,” I agreed with a grin.

Alana tossed me a knowing smirk before she sauntered out of the room, humming underneath her breath.

  “So,” Nick said from behind me as I started to leave class. “Where to next?”

I glanced over at him with pursed lips. “Who says we have the next class together?”

  Nick shrugged nonchalantly as we walked, his face set in an expression that had nearly every girl watching us as we walked down the hallway side by side. I rolled my eyes in response.

  God annoying boy.

“I feel like we haven’t spent enough time together,” Nick started blabbing. “I want you to know that I still value our friendship and that I don’t want to lose you to whatever female-ish thing is going on in your head at the moment. I love you, Avery Emmanuelle Rodriguez, so please, whatever you do, don’t leave me, because I don’t think I could – “

  “Oh, for the love of God!” I barked out, spinning on my heel to clamp a hand over Nick’s mouth.

His random babblings fell short as he stared down at me, a mischievous glint in his honey colored eyes.

 “Thanks for your concern, Nicholas,” I snapped, rolling my eyes. “But I’m just fine. I’ve got to get to AP Lit. I’ll see you later.”

 I spun on my heel and stalked off down the hallway before Nick could say anything else.

 Nick, though, always had to have the last say.

 "DO YOU NEED SOME MIDOL?"

 I gritted my teeth to keep from shouting obscenities back at him and merely flipped him the middle finger over my shoulder as I kept walking.

  There must have been black storm clouds hovering over my head, because people immediately veered out of my way as I stomped down the hallway, some people casting me suspicious looks over their shoulders.

 I was getting tired of this. This wasn't the first time I'd ever been so worked up about a guy before. I mean, I'm in high school. It's practically a given that I be forced to deal with ridiculous guy drama all the time. 

  But when said guy was your best friend? That just made things ten times more complicated.

  I'd always been happy with my place in the group before, but there was something different about senior year. Something that I couldn't put my finger on just yet. Now I was suddenly becoming discontent with the way things were - especially between Marshall and I. 

 Maybe he didn't find me attractive or something. Maybe he only thought of me as his best friend - you know, that girl a guy always went to to cry their heart out on their shoulders about some other random chick when said girl was really head over heels in love with the guy. Or something like that. I wasn't sure.

 I was confused.

 Yeah, well, if Marshall doesn't find you the least bit pretty, then there wasn't any need for him to blush like a maniac when you sat next to him in the truck this morning.

  Huh. My conscious did have a point there.

 Glancing around in embarrassment, I realized I'd spent perhaps a bit too much time simmering at my locker in annoyance. The hallway was nearly empty of people and the warning bell had just rung, which meant that I had sixty seconds to haul ass down about three different hallways. 

  Just great.

Slamming my locker shut, I took off sprinting down the hallway, intent on making a right turn as soon as possible, but I came to a screeching halt at something that caught my attention out of the corner of my eye. 

  Taking a few steps backwards, I peeked cautiously around the corner into the large art studio, searching over the faces seated around the different metal tables. The place smelt like cement glue and a whole plethora of different paints and glazes and a whole bunch of other things and it was making my nose itch. How anybody could stand to be in this room for longer than just a few minutes was beyond me.

 Which was why I didn't really understand why the guy sitting at a table off to the side had such an intense look of concentration on his face as the pencil he held loosely in his grasp danced across the paper in front of him. The look on his face was one that you probably wouldn't find anywhere else except from some old, experienced art master. 

  It was Marshall Addison.

I stood there in the doorway, my mouth hanging open in shock as I watched Marshall draw, which probably wasn't the smartest thing to do. Even from at the distance I was at, it looked like he really loved what he was doing.

 I'd known Marshall since we were both eight years old. And I had absolutely no idea that he drew, let alone took art classes. 

  I almost jumped a foot in the air when the bell rang loudly, signaling the start of second period. Swearing under my breath, I took off sprinting back down the hallway, taking odd twists and turns until I was banging my way into the AP Lit classroom taught by Mr. Blackthorne.

  All eyes were on me the second the classroom door swung shut behind me. I stood in the doorway, eyes wide, why Mr. Blackthorne - the tall, imposing man with dark gray hair and a fierce scowl - gave me a curious look.

  "Miss Rodriguez," he said in a casual tone. "I'll cut you some slack as today is the first day of school, and I do understand the thrilling concept of catching up with your little friends after summer. But please do not be late again tomorrow."

 "¡Sí, señor," I muttered embarrassingly before ducking my head and sprinting to the nearest open seat towards the black of the class.

  I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw that I just so happened to have taken a seat beside Justin Richards of all people.

  He gave me a questioning look, frowning. "Where were you?" he mouthed, looking the slightest bit concerned.

 "Nowhere," I muttered, sliding down in my seat.

If only that were the case. Justin didn't look convinced, and neither did I. 

  I could only hope to wonder what was going to happen the rest of this day.

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  Chapter 3 is up!!! What do you guys think? (: Imagine my surprise when I logged onto Wattpad one day and saw that I had six new comments and a lot of votes on "One Of The Boys". It seriously like shocked me to no end. hahaha (:

   Soooo, I hope you enjoyed! Any reads, comments or votes or anything is really appreciated! (: