Saintwood

st

ke to refer to as my nightmare. My alarm clock screamed that it was time to get up for school. I laid there with my

get used to the last place I like to refer to as hell. It’s not that I hate school

etes or jocks who play every sport imaginable. The nerds or the unpopular kids are into every smart club there is. The party crowd who likes to party

s good grades only because of my photographic memory. If it weren’t for that, I would fail. It doesn’t help that my IQ is 210 only bec

my dead body,” after I flipped them off while walking away. Yes, I know for someone shy, that’s out of character sinc

if I didn’t get up and moving, Mom woul

n I heard knocking. Yep, my

things. I waved her off so I could finish in peace. I love my mom, but I hated when so

door. Dad dropped me off the first day, so I could get a feel for things.

ing loomed over me, ugh. Okay, I need to breathe; it’s th

made my way to the front doors. In case you were wondering, ye

halls with kids. As I suspected, I saw ev

o when I arrived. As I entered, I’m greeted by people talking, yelling, and anything

ith a friendly smile. She must be a secretary. I handed my paperwork to her, say

. I know you say little, and that’s okay. After some time,

people, lady, but thanks for the e

now she’s trying to be helpful, but I can’t help it. Letting out a small sigh, I turned to head to

ed the same look, studying him. He stood six feet with jet black hair and ice-blue eyes. His frame is well-bui

y shoulder and danced around him. Before he said anything,

year wou