;is it too soon to say 'perfect'?;

I managed to survive most of my classes for the day. The thing that really sucks about being the new guy is that you look so lost and confused as you wonder to your class and everyone automatically assumes you're a Freshman. I'm a fuckin' SOPHOMORE! I don't even look like a Freshman. I tower over them for God's sake!
Though, I guess I just have to accept it, and if I want it to stop, I'll just have to figure my way around this dump. And you know, I don't remember it being so difficult to get through the halls. I mean, at my last school it wasn't nearly as hard! I guess the fact we had less students there than here makes a difference. Either way, it's a pain in the ass. It's like these people aren't aware other people are trying to get somewhere so they just stand in the middle of the hall and do absolutely nothing. I've had to shove some people out of my way, obtaining rude looks in the process. Not a great way to make friends, I suppose.

The end of the day strolled along slowly and I still had yet to spot that girl I saw in the gym. I must say, it brought my mood down a few notches. That sounds pathetic, doesn't it? I know, I'm a loser for it, but I can't help it. I wanted to just see her once more before the day ends; I don't think I can wait 'till tomorrow, but if need be, I will. So back to my last class of the day:

Creative Writing.

As if my writing wasn't creative enough. (I'm totally kidding.) I entered the class, trying to find my teacher among the crowd of stupid teenagers swarming in the room. I made my way to her, slipping the term,
"I'm the new guy," out like I have to every teacher for the last few hours. I had gotten so used to saying that, I ended up saying it to just about anyone that tried to address me in any way.

"Hey, can you hand me that pencil?"
"I'm the new guy- oh. Right. Sorry."

She just nodded at me and pointed at an empty desk. I'm assumed she was telling me to sit there, so I did. I set my bag down next to the desk and slumped down, scanning the room and all who stood in it.
My attention shifted from the large guy with dark brown hair. He had an accent- british, I might add.
Then there was the scrawny typical "nerd" who sat in his desk, grabbing a binder out of his backpack. I glanced at all the girls in the class, not one of them looking familiar at all. I actually gave up, but just as the bell was about to ring, she leaped (yes, she leaped) through the doorway. I stopped breathing momentarily.

"Close call there, Ms. Davis," the teacher, whom I had learned was to be addressed as "Mrs. White," said with an annoyed look.
"I'm still looking towards the day your lazy ass is late, Kat," the british dude smirked.

Kat.
Her named echoed through my head.
What could the be short for? Caitlyn? Katie? Catalina?

"Shut up, Corey," she snapped.
"Kathleen, please take a seat," Mrs. White muttered in annoyance.

I smiled to myself. I finally knew her name.

"New student!" someone cried out, slamming my train-of-thought to a hault. Everyone's eyes shifted to me. I felt my face burn under the eye of the room. Awkward, much?
"Yes, why don't you tell us your name?" Mrs. White asked somewhat politely.
At least she tried.

"Jeff," I muttered, straining for my voice not to catch in my throat.
"Jeff...?" she hung the question mark, waiting for me to finish her sentence.
"Henderson," I pipped, a little too quickly than i had planned.
I heard chuckles echo through the class.

"Well Mr. Henderson," Mrs. White smiled, "welcome to our class."
I smiled at her, though it wasn't necessarily a smile. More like a sarcastic, "fantastic."
(That totally rhymed.)

The only thing that brightened my mood about being in this class was the fact that Kathleen Davis sat right across from me, and now she at least knows who I am. It's a start, right?