Secret
Chapter 1
-Chapter 1-
The streetlight streamed in through the blinds causing me to wake up prematurely. I yawned and stretched. It was only 5:37 am and I didn’t have to get up until six but I knew I wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep. Today was the first day of school and I was going to be a junior. Even though I hated my school I was excited to see my friends. I sat up and turned on my TV. MTV was playing idiotic music videos as usual. I sighed. What was I going to do to pass the time?
I decided to get up early and start getting ready. I had just learned how to put on makeup so that would take me thirty minutes alone. I washed my face, brushed my teeth, did my hair, and applied my eyeliner, mascara, and eye shadow. Then I put on some Napoleon Dynamite chap stick that I found at Claire’s. That stuff definitely rocks my socks. I put on a black t-shirt, my blue, written-on and ripped jeans, some Converses, and my MCR hoodie. No need to dress up on the first day of school when there is no one to dress up for.
Lately, I’ve been into the rocker look and rocker guys. My mom didn’t understand it and at first she tried to reason with me to change my style but now she’s gotten into it. She understands that my styles are always changing with how I feel and what I like.
By the time I finished it was 6:30. Crap! I needed to make my bed and get my stuff together or my mom wouldn’t even take me to school. Time seemed to be creeping by so slowly. Finally, my mom was ready to take me to school. When I arrived it was 7:30 and I had five minutes to get to class. The principal was saying over the intercom, “Welcome back to school, kids. Homeroom first today and probably for the rest of the week,” over and over. She was about to make my ears bleed. My God, I hated her voice.
I spotted my friend Chris and went over to talk to him. “What’s up man?”
“Hey! Where have you been?”
“Dude… I called you over the summer and you never called back.”
“When?”
“I left a message with your brother like two weeks ago.”
“Oh, that’s why. He never gives me messages.”
“Well, that’s nice to know.”
“Anyways… Let me see your schedule.” There was a silence as he checked over both of them, matching up our classes. “Cool. We have orchestra, of course, and health.”
“Excited to see Mr. J?” He was our orchestra teacher.
He scoffed. “Are you joking?” We both laughed as we headed to our homerooms. Since we were both in the same grade they were down the hall from one another. We parted and I entered my homeroom class. Cool. My old history teacher from last year was my homeroom teacher. She was a good and fun teacher.
“Hey, Mrs. Poe.” We made small talk for awhile before I took my seat as the bell rang.
Everyone expected to be in homeroom for at least an hour while our unorganized guidance office got structured, so soon the class was loud with small chat. The first days of school you are usually allowed to be a few minutes late to class. About five minutes after class started the door opened. In walked a guy that instantly caught my eye. He was wearing a red The Used shirt, black ripped girl jeans, black and red MCR wristbands, and a Taking Back Sunday hoodie. He was into all of the bands I loved. His skin was olive. I figured he may be Spanish or Italian. His hair was shoulder-length and black (probably dyed) with red streaks. It covered his forehead and partly his eyes. I couldn’t quite catch the color. He also had his eyebrow pierced. The polish on his nails was black and chipped. He wore Vans. The classic skater shoes.
I heard Mrs. Poe welcoming him to our school. Oh, so he was new. I began to wonder what his major was. It was probably guitar. All of the guitar majors look similar to him. But he was the hottest one I’d seen so far.
“Jess,” Mrs. Poe called, waking me out of my trance. “Could you come here, please?” I got up and walked to her. “Jess, I’d like you to meet Ryan.”
“Hi,” I stuck out my hand and he shook it. His hand was cold but soft. He smiled and replied with the same word. His voice was warm and rich. Not too deep but he definitely sounded like a mature boy pass puberty.
“This is Jess,” Mrs. Poe continued. “She’s was one of my students last year. I’m confident she’ll show you around with pleasure. She’s is a very nice girl.”
We turned to take our seats. He sat next to me. Note to self… Tell Mrs. Poe you love her. “Can I see your schedule?” I asked, surprised that I wasn’t stuttering. I normally stumble over my words when talking to new people, especially guys.
“Sure.” He handed it to me.
“Guitar major, huh? That’s pretty cool.”
He smiled. “Yeah, it’s my passion. What’s your major?”
“Orchestra.”
“That’s cool. What do you play?”
“Viola.”
“What’s that?”
I chuckled. “I didn’t expect you to know. No one ever does. It’s kinda the lost instrument of the orchestra. Just think of it as a slightly bigger violin, with different strings, and not so high-pitched and annoying.” I glanced over his schedule some more. “Well, you have guitar the same period I have orchestra. That means we’ll see each other because we share the same storage room.”
“Awesome.” We were silent for awhile. He broke it when he said, “Do you know the guitar teacher?”
“Yeah. Mr. London is totally cool. Sometimes he loses his temper ‘cause the guitar kids are known to be a bit crazy but he never really does anything.”
“What do you mean by crazy?”
“From time to time they lock each other in the big storage lockers, tape each other up with duct tape, blast rock music in the big speakers when he leaves for short periods of time, torture preppy chorus girls, disobey subs. The list could go on forever.”
By the time I was done he was laughing uncontrollably. “That’s… so… funny…” he said in between breaths. “I used to do that kind of stuff at my old school,” he stated after he was done laughing.
“Well you’ll fit right in,” I smiled.
We looked deep into each other’s eyes. That’s when I noticed that his eyes were a profound and intense green with flakes of light brown. He also wore black eyeliner. So cool. Crap! Another awkward silence. I broke it by studying his schedule again giving it back. I told him that we had two more classes together. “We have AP English Literature and Zoology.”
“Whoa! You like animals?”
“Yep. That’s my passion.”
“Then why do you go to this performing arts school?”
“Long story. But don’t get me wrong. I love music. It’s one of my true loves but I love animals more and I’ve loved them longer. You know… They love back.”
He sighed. “Music can love back.” I shrugged, not to sure how to respond. I zipped up my hoodie because I was getting a little cold. “Oh my God! You like My Chem?!” he yelled noticing the MCR emblem.
“Yeah, dude. They rock my socks.”
“We have so much in common.”
“I know. Where have you been all my life?” We both laughed and made small talk for awhile until the bell rang.
The streetlight streamed in through the blinds causing me to wake up prematurely. I yawned and stretched. It was only 5:37 am and I didn’t have to get up until six but I knew I wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep. Today was the first day of school and I was going to be a junior. Even though I hated my school I was excited to see my friends. I sat up and turned on my TV. MTV was playing idiotic music videos as usual. I sighed. What was I going to do to pass the time?
I decided to get up early and start getting ready. I had just learned how to put on makeup so that would take me thirty minutes alone. I washed my face, brushed my teeth, did my hair, and applied my eyeliner, mascara, and eye shadow. Then I put on some Napoleon Dynamite chap stick that I found at Claire’s. That stuff definitely rocks my socks. I put on a black t-shirt, my blue, written-on and ripped jeans, some Converses, and my MCR hoodie. No need to dress up on the first day of school when there is no one to dress up for.
Lately, I’ve been into the rocker look and rocker guys. My mom didn’t understand it and at first she tried to reason with me to change my style but now she’s gotten into it. She understands that my styles are always changing with how I feel and what I like.
By the time I finished it was 6:30. Crap! I needed to make my bed and get my stuff together or my mom wouldn’t even take me to school. Time seemed to be creeping by so slowly. Finally, my mom was ready to take me to school. When I arrived it was 7:30 and I had five minutes to get to class. The principal was saying over the intercom, “Welcome back to school, kids. Homeroom first today and probably for the rest of the week,” over and over. She was about to make my ears bleed. My God, I hated her voice.
I spotted my friend Chris and went over to talk to him. “What’s up man?”
“Hey! Where have you been?”
“Dude… I called you over the summer and you never called back.”
“When?”
“I left a message with your brother like two weeks ago.”
“Oh, that’s why. He never gives me messages.”
“Well, that’s nice to know.”
“Anyways… Let me see your schedule.” There was a silence as he checked over both of them, matching up our classes. “Cool. We have orchestra, of course, and health.”
“Excited to see Mr. J?” He was our orchestra teacher.
He scoffed. “Are you joking?” We both laughed as we headed to our homerooms. Since we were both in the same grade they were down the hall from one another. We parted and I entered my homeroom class. Cool. My old history teacher from last year was my homeroom teacher. She was a good and fun teacher.
“Hey, Mrs. Poe.” We made small talk for awhile before I took my seat as the bell rang.
Everyone expected to be in homeroom for at least an hour while our unorganized guidance office got structured, so soon the class was loud with small chat. The first days of school you are usually allowed to be a few minutes late to class. About five minutes after class started the door opened. In walked a guy that instantly caught my eye. He was wearing a red The Used shirt, black ripped girl jeans, black and red MCR wristbands, and a Taking Back Sunday hoodie. He was into all of the bands I loved. His skin was olive. I figured he may be Spanish or Italian. His hair was shoulder-length and black (probably dyed) with red streaks. It covered his forehead and partly his eyes. I couldn’t quite catch the color. He also had his eyebrow pierced. The polish on his nails was black and chipped. He wore Vans. The classic skater shoes.
I heard Mrs. Poe welcoming him to our school. Oh, so he was new. I began to wonder what his major was. It was probably guitar. All of the guitar majors look similar to him. But he was the hottest one I’d seen so far.
“Jess,” Mrs. Poe called, waking me out of my trance. “Could you come here, please?” I got up and walked to her. “Jess, I’d like you to meet Ryan.”
“Hi,” I stuck out my hand and he shook it. His hand was cold but soft. He smiled and replied with the same word. His voice was warm and rich. Not too deep but he definitely sounded like a mature boy pass puberty.
“This is Jess,” Mrs. Poe continued. “She’s was one of my students last year. I’m confident she’ll show you around with pleasure. She’s is a very nice girl.”
We turned to take our seats. He sat next to me. Note to self… Tell Mrs. Poe you love her. “Can I see your schedule?” I asked, surprised that I wasn’t stuttering. I normally stumble over my words when talking to new people, especially guys.
“Sure.” He handed it to me.
“Guitar major, huh? That’s pretty cool.”
He smiled. “Yeah, it’s my passion. What’s your major?”
“Orchestra.”
“That’s cool. What do you play?”
“Viola.”
“What’s that?”
I chuckled. “I didn’t expect you to know. No one ever does. It’s kinda the lost instrument of the orchestra. Just think of it as a slightly bigger violin, with different strings, and not so high-pitched and annoying.” I glanced over his schedule some more. “Well, you have guitar the same period I have orchestra. That means we’ll see each other because we share the same storage room.”
“Awesome.” We were silent for awhile. He broke it when he said, “Do you know the guitar teacher?”
“Yeah. Mr. London is totally cool. Sometimes he loses his temper ‘cause the guitar kids are known to be a bit crazy but he never really does anything.”
“What do you mean by crazy?”
“From time to time they lock each other in the big storage lockers, tape each other up with duct tape, blast rock music in the big speakers when he leaves for short periods of time, torture preppy chorus girls, disobey subs. The list could go on forever.”
By the time I was done he was laughing uncontrollably. “That’s… so… funny…” he said in between breaths. “I used to do that kind of stuff at my old school,” he stated after he was done laughing.
“Well you’ll fit right in,” I smiled.
We looked deep into each other’s eyes. That’s when I noticed that his eyes were a profound and intense green with flakes of light brown. He also wore black eyeliner. So cool. Crap! Another awkward silence. I broke it by studying his schedule again giving it back. I told him that we had two more classes together. “We have AP English Literature and Zoology.”
“Whoa! You like animals?”
“Yep. That’s my passion.”
“Then why do you go to this performing arts school?”
“Long story. But don’t get me wrong. I love music. It’s one of my true loves but I love animals more and I’ve loved them longer. You know… They love back.”
He sighed. “Music can love back.” I shrugged, not to sure how to respond. I zipped up my hoodie because I was getting a little cold. “Oh my God! You like My Chem?!” he yelled noticing the MCR emblem.
“Yeah, dude. They rock my socks.”
“We have so much in common.”
“I know. Where have you been all my life?” We both laughed and made small talk for awhile until the bell rang.