"Hey, Rhea! Long time, no chat. You look good!" Drake says casually, sweeping his gaze over me from head to toe.

Instinctively, I begin to fix my hair, but then I realize: This is Drake Pollen. He doesn't deserve my attention.

"Drake, what are you doing here? And are you, like, checking me out??!"

"I'm just following you around the world, Rhea. And yes. I am checking you out."

I feel a blush creeping onto my cheeks. He's always been such a sweet-talker! 'Rhea, remember what he did. You hate him!' I say to myself.

Out loud, I respond, "Drake, we're over. Get that into your head. I have come to Maple Marshrup Academy to have a fresh start, and you are not going to ruin this for me. So stay away from me!"

Just as this intense conversation terminates, Principal Kramnik walks into his office. He is wearing a tuxedo with a red bowtie, with black leather shoes. He is bald with a black beard that stretches from ear to ear and a big, hairy mustache. He wears large, round glasses and he has a sort of kind yet severe expression on his face. Looking at him, I am reminded of the principal in the movie She's the Man.

"Hello kids! You must be the new students in grade 12, Drake Pollen and Rhea Isrania, am I right?" Principal Kramnik asks, in a loud, boisterous voice.

"Yes, sir!" Drake and I reply in chorus.

"Good, good. Please have a seat, Rhea," and with that, I uncomfortably sit down next to Drake, trying to ignore his annoying smirk.

Pacing the room with his hands clasped behind his back, Principal Kramnik says, "Now, Mr. Pollen, I have heard some rumors about you and what happened in Boston. Kindly refrain from that sort of thing here in Abu Dhabi, as I do not tolerate such behaviour from my students."

Next to me, I feel Drake tense up, and I almost feel sorry for him, but not quite.

Seating himself in his swivel chair, Principal Kramnik continues, "And now, on a softer note, I would just like to say that Maple Marshrup Academy has molded students into perfect toppers who excel in everything. If you work hard, that could be you. We have nearly every facility in our school, from an indoor swimming pool to a chess room. If you have any questions or you require advice or consultation, you can always come to me. My office is open to students 24/7. I trust you both have already received your school timetables?"

Again, in chorus, Drake and I respond, "Yes, sir."

"Good. You may go."

The words of Principal Kramnik's brief pep talk run through my head as I slowly get up off the couch. How I would love to be one of those perfect students he was talking about!

"Goodbye sir," I say to Principal Kramnik, and then walk toward the door, still dreaming about how wonderful it would be if I could become one of those perfect students.

Drake holds the door open for me, and once we get out of the office, snapping me out of my reverie, he says hopefully, "So Rhea. See you around?"

"In your dreams, Drake," and with that, I turn around and strut out of the administration. I am going to forget about Drake Pollen and start a new life with new friends here, just as I had planned on doing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

From the two buildings behind the administration, the one on the right turns out to be the one for the tenth, eleventh, and twelfth grades. I enter the building and with a few wrong turns, eventually manage to make my way to my first class of the day, Algebra.

The classroom is fairly large, with four columns of single desks. In front of the students' desks is a brown desk, much bigger than the rest, which I assume is the teacher's desk. At the head of the room, there is an enormous white board stretching across the front wall. On the other three walls, there are pinboards, labelled 'School Notices', 'Class Results', and 'External Exams'.

I walk to the head of the room where our algebra professor is writing a formula aggressively on the board. He looks like he is in his thirties, with glasses, black short hair, and a clean-shaven face. He is wearing a suit and tie on top of a white shirt, with black suit-pants.

"Good morning sir," I say to the professor.

"Good morning. And you are...?" he asks, pushing his spectacles back up his nose.

"My name is Rhea Isrania," I explain, "and I am a new student."

"Ah yes, you are the transfer student from Boston, is it not? I am Professor Zinc," he says, and it occurs to me that he has a slight Spanish accent.

"Yes sir. Could you please direct me to my seat?"

"Of course. Now, let's see, where shall we put you?" he mutters, sweeping his gaze over the room. Finally, it settles on a desk towards the back of the room.

"How about over there, behind Noah," he says, pointing to a boy with gorgeous black hair and kind black eyes. He has some stubble growing on his chin, and his luscious lips make me want to run over to him and kiss him. He is wearing a black turtleneck sweater with long sleeves, but the outline of his muscles can be seen through the sweater. I have been in this school for half an hour, and already I have found my next crush!

"Go on, get seated, and take out your Algebra book."

Unable to tear my eyes away from that Greek god, Noah, I make my way to the desk behind him. I sit down and rummage through my bag, looking for my algebra book, but then I remember going through it yesterday night and forgetting to put it back in my bag. 'Oh no! Now what do I do?' I groan inwardly. Not to worry, magical spelling powers to the rescue!

I look around to make sure no one is watching, and then bury my head in my bag and mutter, "A-L-G-E-B-R-A B-O-O-K," and voila, my book appears in my bag. No matter how many times I do that, it never ceases to amaze me!

Feeling relieved, I bring my head back up out of my bag, only to find Noah *squee* staring at me with an intrigued look on his face.

"Hey! I'm Noah Jameson, captain of the basketball team. You spent an awful lot of time getting your book out of your bag..." he says with uncertainty (in his gorgeous British accent).

"Oh hi. I'm Rhea Isrania, new girl," I say, trying to keep my cool, but my knees are wobbling dangerously under the table. "I just couldn't find my book, you know. These bags sure do look small from the outside, but they're huge from the inside!"

"Sure they are. Anyway, welcome to Maple Marshrup Academy. See you around!" he says and with a breath-taking smile, he goes back to his books.

If everyone here is as charming as Noah, I think I'm going to like it here.

*****************************************************************************************************

Sorry for taking so long to update. Who do you think Rhea should be with: Drake or Noah? And what do you think Drake did?

Picture up on top is of that 'gorgeous Greek god' Noah Jameson.

VOTE! COMMENT!

~Ananya