Kissing You That Friday Night

I'm sitting in Freshman Literature, one of the classes I tend to pay more attention in because of all the intense conversations about the novels we go through once every month. Today I'm not paying attention. My mind is racing at thoughts of the art show, my parent, and that letter.
I'm staring at Ricky. I notice he isn't consumed in a conversation with the girls next to him, instead he is holding the book A Seperate Peace in his left hand and taking notes with his right hand on a blank sheet of paper. This is what made me like Ricky. You look at him once and think he has more body and muscle mass than he has brain. Though he is a good student. To be on the football team he isn't allowed to get lower than a D in any class. Plus I had seen his report card last semester (by accident, may I say) and there was nothing lower than one C on it. I wish he'd notice me. I'm still watching him as the girl in the row next to his and the girl behind her are giggling and pointing at Ricky. He's completely oblivious to this and continues to take notes. I want to laugh and smile at the way they look at him, because it's disgusting, but I hold back and raise my hand to answer Mr. Warner's question reguarding chapter three.

"Laila would you put that statue over on the mantle in the corner?" Ms. Campbell asks me as she hauls a cart full of unplaced artwork around the corner. It's four o' clock, only an hour left until the artshow and I told Ms. Campbell I would come early right after school to help set up for the show in the gymnasium, hoping to get extra credit out of it. I'm the only one in ther besides the janitor, Steve, and some random guy I've never seen before, though I saw him talking to Ms. Campbell earlier.
I pick up the heavy 3 foot statue and waddle with it over to the corner of the gym where the mantle stood and hauled it up onto the wooden piece. I rubbed my hands together and looked at the statue on the mantle a few feet back examining its postition and moving it this way and that until it looked perfect. I suddenly heard a chuckle from behind me and turned around to see who it was.
"What's so funny?" I ask the guy arranging pots on a table only a few yards away from me. It was the same guy talking to Ms. Campbell.
"You're a perfectionist, it makes me laugh." The guy answers back as if he has done nothing.
I wince at him and turn away to face the statue again, "I take art very seriously, thank you very much."
"It's not like anyone is going to come anyway." He answers back.
I'm annoyed at this point. I don't like this kid. I don't like him at all. I don't even know who he is but he sucks ass at first impressions, that's no secret. I don't say anything but I make it obvious I'm not pulling out the welcome wagon for him.
It's five o' clock and people are beginnign to file into the gym. First ten people, then fifteen, then thirty, then fifty. Ha, mr. bad-at-first-impressions. People did come. Ha, ha, ha. I want to shove the fact in his face but he's being two-faced at the moment, greeting people at the door like he's nice or something. I huff and roll my eyes. I put on a fake smile as people walk by me and my artwork. I hear whispers and see smiles as people look at my two works of art. This makes me smile and forget all about mr. bad-at-first-impressions. I scan the room to see who is there. From left to right: Mr. O'Miller, Ms. Campbell, Suzy from Geometry, Ingrid, Tara...My expression fades when I see mr. bad-at-first-impressions. He looks back at me and waves obnoxiously. Ew. We make eye contact and I want to puke. There's something about him that makes it difficult to stop looking at him. I don't know why, but i think it's just disgust. Like when you watch TV and there is a gross image of a half naked man and you can't help but stare.
I make it through the rest of the artshow counting up twentythree and a half good compliments from passing people. This pleases me. I decide to stay after with Ingrid to help clean up after the art show. Unfortunatly enough, mr. bad-at-first-impressions is there too.
"Hey can you be a big help and take the pots on this cart and wheel them into Ms. Campbells kiln room and put them on the empty shelf?" Ingrid says as she removes painting off the walls.
"Sure." I say and wheel the cart out of the gym and into the kiln room at the end of the hallway. I place the pots on the empty shelf Ingrid told me was going to be there. When I turn back to pick up the last pot and put it on the shelf I notice a figure out of the corner of my eye. I brush the hair away from my face and see who it is. As if my day just can't stop surprsing me, there's mr. ba- well you know, standing in the flesh, leaning against the closed kiln, which means its on, I don't tell him. I hope he gets burnt.
He's staring at me with his arms crossed over his chest. I notice then he's wearing a band t-shirt with a name I can't makeout. "What do you want?" I ask and place the last pot on the shelf.
"Who says I wanted anything?" He returns my questions with another. I hate when people do this....
I take a deep breath and put my hands on my hips. I'm within close enough distance to really get a good look at him, and as disgusted as I am, I'm weirdly turned on. He has dark, longish hair, and dark brooding eyes that give him the appearence of night, he's wearing dark jeans with a few splatters of paint and dry wall compound, and his facial features are very angular and flawless. In the moment I'm too pissed off to admit he's adorable. I still say nothing in response, and walk away. I bite my lip and pray he doesn't say anything to me to make me turn around, but surprisingly, he doesn't. I exit the room.

It's eight in the morning and I'm sitting in the middle of a huge row of desks. I am one of few kids in the room, as the bell rings, people are just filing into the classroom. I see Tara who smiles and plants herself in the desk next to mine.
"The art show was packed yesterdsay, I heard so many people complimenting your art too, Lai." She smiles at me.
I open my mouth to respond but right as I'm about to talk Mr. Turner quiets the class down and turns to the board and writes the word FUNGUS in capital letters at the top of the board. I almost gag. Tara obviously notices this and silently giggles.
"All fungi are Eukaryotic cells, formed by a web of hyphae called mycelium-" Mr. Turner begins when suddenly the door opens.
Everyone is quiet and watches the tall figure step into the room, and give a slip of white paper to Mr. Turner. Speaking of fungus I think to myself and then drop my head down onto my desk. It's mr. bad-at-first-impressions. He walks toward me. There's an empty seat on the opposite side of me, shit. He sits down next to me and gives me a half-assed smile. I don't give him an anything back. I just turn away.
"Everyone, this is Aiden Landon. He's a transfer student from..." Mr. Turner flips the whiote paper over and over again, obviously looking for the information on where mr-bad-a- I mean, Aiden, is from.
"-Denver," Aiden finishes for Mr.Turner, "Denver, Colorado." Aiden clears his throat as he notices all eyes are fixed on him. Except mine. I'm trying hard not to look at him. I still don't know this Mr. Landon, but we got off on the wrong foot.
Tara taps me on the shoulder and I see her mouth the words he's cute but I'm praying she said um ew.
"Welcome, Mr. Landon!" Mr. Turner says and then turns to the board. I glance over at Aiden who is slipping his sling over bag over his head and onto the floor. He reaches into the bag and takes out a pencil with one too many bite marks and a black emprty notebook. He begins to copy down what is on the board.
I focus my attention to the front and start taking notes as well.
At the end of class I walk out with Tara and we go our seperate ways once I reach my locker only a few yards away from the Biology classroom. "Hey." I hear a voice and look around suddenly but see no one. I turn my attention back to my locker and shrug. "Um, behind here..." The voice says again. It's coming from behind my open locker door. I grab a few books and close my locker and notice it's Aiden. I take a deep breath.
"What do you want?" I say to him and put my free hand on my hip.
"Excuse me? I didn't think you'd still be holding a grudge against me." Aiden says.
I roll my eyes and don't respond.
"Can we just put this all behind us?" Aiden says.
I almost consider it until he says- "I'm sorry for treating you like a freak. I just thought you were a little weird, that's all."
I give him a stern look and turn away from him, without a word to my next class.