Our Love Isn't Perfect, But It's True

"So where were you last night?" Smokey asked as we sat in class, working on homework. I looked up at her and shrugged one shoulder, finishing the complicated math problem and starting on the next one.

"Stayed the night at Tyler's," I said as nonchalantly as possible, hoping Smokey would decide not to make a big deal out of it. When I heard her pencil hit the table, I knew Smokey was about to talk up a storm.

"No way! Were his parents there? Did you meet them? Did you stay in the same bed? Did anything else happen?" Smokey said in a rambling fast pace voice that I didn't struggle to keep up with. I've known Smokey for a long time, so her fast speech is something I have learned to understand.

I simply answered, "Yes, yes, yes, no," to her questions, counting each one off on a finger. Smokey rolled her eyes at me and raised her hand for a high-five. Right before I hit it, she pulled hers away, wiggling her fingers weirdly and shouting, "Jellyfish!" I sighed and turned my attention back to my math work. I was just finishing it when I heard Smokey's phone begin to ring very softly. I looked up and saw her texting and I furrowed my brow.

"What are you doing?" I asked, tilting my head as I noticed the teacher slowly meandering around the room. Smokey didn't even glanced up at me when she replied.

"Texting."

"Texting who?" I said slowly, hoping she would add more detail. She didn't.

"Alex, Nicole and Jo."

"About what?" I asked, getting a little frustrated with her incredibly short and not-descriptive-at-all answers. Smokey finally looked up at me and smirked, a glint of mischievousness sparkling in her eyes.

"About you and Tyler's fun night," Smokey replied happily. I was about to respond when I felt a hand slap down on our table and a shadow lean over us. I looked up and met the angry eyes of our teacher.

"What do you two think you are doing?" she practically spat, staring directly at Smokey's phone. I rolled my eyes and remembered this stupid teacher's rules about phones in class. They were a big no-no. Smokey and I shot her our best 'I'm-so-innocent' eyes. But they don't work on Mrs. Gertrude, a horrible bitch who has seen them too many times from us. What can we say? If we don't like the teacher, we usually act out in class. "Smokey, I want you to take that cell phone directly to the principal!" Mrs. G shrieked, gaining the attention of the whole class.

Smokey rolled her eyes, stood and headed towards the door, leaving me under the sharpness of the teacher's glare. Smoke glanced over her shoulder and winked at me. She then laughed loudly as the door swung shut behind her.

Damn you, Smokey, damn you.

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Smokey's POV

I laughed as soon as I exited the class, taking a step out of the view of the window in the door and doubling over. When I finally calmed myself down enough, I peered through the corner of the window in the door and saw the teacher barking who knows what at Mick. McCartney, in turn, was staring up at the teacher with a defiant glare on her face. I had a feeling she would be in the principal's office soon enough too.

So I began down the hall towards my locker, which was on the way to the principal's office. I spun the lock and grabbed my iPod. I figured I would get a little exercise down on the track in before my next class instead of going to the office. I ran track for the school in the spring, so running is something I did often.

I heard thudding footsteps of some guy walking down the adjacent hallway around the corner from my locker, and heels clicking against the tile floor following behind whoever it was. Then there was a muffled groan and the sound of something gently falling against the metal lockers. I shrugged. It was probably some couple skipping class.

I closed my locker and headed down the hall towards the hallway where the couple was. I was going to ignore them, but I couldn't help and steal a glance at them. My steps faltered as I came to a stop and stared at them.

"No way," I muttered. Well I thought I muttered, but apparently I had said it loud. The two people who had just been avidly making out pulled away from each other to look at me. The girl, a blonde I recognized as a junior named Bailey, had the guy pinned against the wall. And you can only guess who that happened to be.

"Ethan, tell that girl to go away," the girl whined with a flirtatious twang that I immediately hated. Ethan stared at me, wide-eyed and guilty with his mouth agape. I shook my head to clear it and met the girl's hate-filled gaze.

"Don't worry, I leaving you," I said pointedly, turning my gaze back to Ethan when I said the last word. He mumbled something to the girl and tried to push her off, but Bailey didn't want to budge. I didn't wait to watch, and I turned and raced down the hall.

"Smokey! Wait!" Ethan called, and I heard his running footsteps chasing after me. He may be in football, but running is what I do best. Plus, I'm smaller, skinnier and can overall run faster. So I was out the doors and across the parking lot before he even reached the door.

I kept running until I reached the far end of the football field that was down the hill and a hundred yards from the school. I stopped and leaned against the field goal poll, more out-of-breath over what just happened then the actual running.

Had that really just happened? Why would Ethan do that to me? Maybe everyone was right when they said Ethan would return to his old playboy ways... I mean I had just caught him red-handed with-- But I didn't get to finish the thought. Something heavy, hard and metal struck me painfully over the back of the head with a loud metallic sound.

And I was out like a light.