Sterling's Daughter

The bus slowed to a stop at the end of Laya's driveway at 3:15. Grabbing up her school bag and books, she said bye to Kirsty and followed her sister off the bus. As she walked past the front seat, her foot caught on a bag sprawled carelessly on the ground. She nearly swore as she lurched foward and collided with Zena, who whipped around to glare at her in annoyance for almost sending her crashing down the steps.
"Hey!" Zena hissed. "Watch where you're going!"
Laya made a face at her sister and turned to glare at the person who owned the bag. As she did, she gave the bag a kick, since its owner hadn't moved it.
"Well, someone should watch where they put their belongings," she grumbled, before she realised who her words were directed at. "Oh, its you."
Hamilton just stared back at her with a shrug.
"Hey, ya getting off or not?" the driver called, not pleased with the holdup.
"Absolutely," Laya scowled at both him and the boy and stomped off the bus. Zena raised an eyebrow at her as they stared down the drive.
"Whose that guy?" she asked, curiously. Laya just shrugged.
"No one that concerns me or you," she said. Then a thought struck her. "I've got Juno this afternoon, so you can pick another horse."
"I don't care about the crappy animals," Zena snorted. "Ride whoever you want, Little Miss Sterling."
She loved calling Laya that, simply because Laya was the only girl in the family that helped their horse addicted mother with the horses that she trained. Their home went by the name of Sterling Stables, after their last name.
"Fine," Laya couldn't care less. Her sister was 99.9% of the time a complete pain, and riding horses allowed her to forget about all the annoying people and problems in life.
***
"His name's Will," Kirsty nodded towards the boy who was lounging around on his phone on the school's front steps. "You have to admit he's kinda cute."
"I'm sorry?" Laya stared. "He's a loser!"
"Loser's right," a bitter voice said from behind them. The girls turned quickly. A girl a couple of years younger than them looked back at them from behind thick rimmed black glasses. "But a jerk's more correct. He knocked me flying between classes yesterday. Sent my books everywhere, and there was no apology or help to pick up my papers. I don't know where he came from," she added, clearly disgusted.
"I'm right," Laya said to Kirsty. "He's a loser."
"I'm right, too," Kirsty said defensively. "He's cute."
"Is not," Laya lied.
"Is too," Kirsty retorted.
"Oh, shut up," Laya belted her over the head with a pile of papers. "We're way too cool for him, anyway."
"Sure you are," Kirsty nodded wisely.
"Of course I am," Laya grinned. "Come on, we've got way better things to do than to discuss him."
Deep in the heart of the school building, a loud bell rang.
"And...that's our cue," she moaned. She began to jog up the front steps with Kirsty behind her.
Then suddenly, her feet weren't beneath her anymore.