Wicked End Academy

Marissa takes me through all my classes, nicknaming the days at the same time. Math Mondays (Algebra and Geometry), Terrific Tuesdays (Music and Creative Writing), World Wednesdays (English Lit. and Italian), Throw-up Thursdays (Chemistry and Biology), and Physical Fridays (P.E. and Swimming). Today is "terrific".

We stop outside my Creative Writing class. I guess we're friends now, because she hugs me before going to her own class. I walk in and see the muscle guy with his four friends in a group. I look closer at him, as in "look-look".

He's actually really cute. The tattoos that cover his arms are beautiful, and his lip ring makes him look intimidating. The bell rings, signifying the start of class. The teacher shuts the door and sees me. I look at her.

"Class, attention," she says, clapping her hands together. She sees the group of five guys and sighs. "Mr. Seward, back to your seat." One of the guys, one with brown spikes with blonde tips, laughs and walks across the room to take a seat. She glances back at me. "This is Charlotte Merriweather, please make her feel welcome. Charlotte, you may take a seat next to Johnny." She gestures to the boy that moved. I walk to the back of the room and sit next to him as the teacher starts writing on the board.

"Your name is Charlotte," Johnny asks quietly. I nod.

"Yeah," I reply. "And you're Johnny?"

"Yep," he says with a grin. He looks down at my shoes. "Nice Chucks. Custom with Sharpie?" I smile as I take a look at my battered Converse with Sharpied lyrics written all over them.

"Yeah, I guess." I look back up at him. "I get bored easily." He chuckles. The teacher doesn't notice us talking.

"So from the hair and shoes, I'm gonna guess you're more of a rocker than a prep." It's a statement.

"Mhmm," I say, glancing at all the scribble on the front board.

"What bands?" I return my gaze on him.

"Green Day, My Chemical Romance, Three Days Grace... Stuff like that." He nods.

"Any screamo?"

"Sure," I shrug. "AFI, The Devil Wears Prada, Bullet For My Valentine."

"All the good stuff." I smile a little more. He looks over my shoulder and shows a questioning expression. I look in the same direction. I see the tattoo guy staring from me to Johnny.

"Sorry about him," he says, getting my attention back. "He saw you in the lobby and he was, like, freaking out." I tilt my head.

"Why?"

"He wants to know you and talk to you. He thinks you're really pretty." I blush a little.

"Yeah, right," I say, looking down.

"No, I'm serious," he says in a somber tone. I look back up at him. "All these other girls in this school... they're all stuck-up bitches. He really wants a girl just like you."

"He doesn't even know me, though," I say.

"He has a really good feeling about you. He really hopes you have a good feeling about him." I smile.

"What's his name?"

"Matt. His stage name is M. Shadows, though."

"Stage name? So he's in a band?"

"Yeah," Johnny grins again. "A band with me and all the other guys over there." We talk about Matt and the band for the last forty five minutes of class until the bell rings. Johnny stands up and looks down at me.

"Do you wanna meet him," he asks. "He doesn't bite... that I know of." I laugh softly and I walk with Johnny over to the other guys that are waiting for Johnny.

"Oh, hello," one of the other guys say. "Who is this?"

"This is Charlotte," Johnny introduces me. He points to each of the guys. "Matt, Jimmy, Brian, and Zacky." Matt smiles a little, showing dimples. Cute ones, too.

"Hi," he says. I smile back.

"Hey," I reply. First day and I already have a crush... Cool. Marissa walks into the room and stands next to me.

"Come on, Charlotte," she says. I look at the guys and wave.

"Bye." Marissa hurriedly pulls me out of the room. On the way out, I see Rodney standing in the hallway. He watches me as she pulls me in front of a random locker.

"Don't talk to them," she warns me. I turn confused.

"Why not," I ask. "Matt actually likes me." Her eyes widen. I hear a commotion down the hallway. I turn around and see Matt pushing a kid against a locker, punching him and possibly breaking his nose.

"That's why."