Monday, hate it. I leaned against the bus window, trying to drown out the sound of the engine and endless chatter of little kids in the front with my iPod on blast. All I could do was think about the chapters and questions I ignored all weekend from To Kill a Mockingbird, which in my opinion needed to get a rethink of it being a classic.

So lost in thought, I nearly missed the pressure of a person sitting down beside me. I sneaked a peek, and rolled my eyes. Freaking staler Gaston. He had a first name, but only people that wanted to die called him Angus Gaston.

"Hey Belle." He said slyly pulling one of my ear plugs out.

It's Clarabelle to you bitch. "Hey." I said dully.

"Hey, you want to go to the Winter Fest dance with me next Saturday?"

Why is he so full of himself? Honestly, just because you're a jock that has an army of lovers doesn't mean everyone on this green Earth will go out with you. "Sorry, can't."

"Why not?" I saw his friend/groupie Loewy pop his head out from the seat in front of us.

"Because I," I made my voice sound like it was obvious I was making up an excuse "I have to read to blind deaf orphans next Saturday."

I went to put my plug back in my ear when he grabbed my wrist "Orphans can wait a week can't they?"

This is where it proves he has no brains. Our teeny tiny town is too small to have an orphanage. It's only big enough to have a McDonalds and a few gas stations.

Before I could go and tell him of his dumbness, the bus pulled into the school and I jumped up to get a good spot in line, but Gaston stopped me.

"I'll let you get off the bus if you say yes." He looked down at me like this was all I needed to say that three letter word.

I rolled my eyes and looked to see if the bus driver was looking. Quickly, I shrugged my shoulder bag higher on my shoulder and jumped over the seat in front of me, which was gracious open.

The line moved too slowly but I got off the bus and power walked to the school entrance that pronounced that this was 'Castle High, were winner are made!'

I made my way up the stairs and to my locker, stuffed my stuff into the small three inch by six inch locker that all freshmen had to suffer with. While I was "checking my hair" in the mirror that barley fit in the back of it, I saw something really weird for this school.

A guy, probably a year older than me, with red hair that looked natural, and that he stopped at the empty locker right next to mine. He must be new. I reached up to the separate space that you can put your books, and tried to peek over to him without looking too obvious.

He looked really frustrated with the lock, which nobody here would blame him.

Shutting my locker, I looked at him. "Need some help?" I asked friendly.

He grunted and motioned to it like saying 'be my guest'.

"What's the combo?" I asked.

"3, 32, 27." He said simply.

I turn to the left, right, then until it wouldn't budge. Opening it, I motioned to it "Ta da."

"Thanks." He mumbled shoving his things in.

Feeling acquired in the private silences, "Hi, my name's Clarabelle. What's your's?" I stuck my hand out.

He looked at it like I had swine flu or something. "Don't worry," I said jokingly "It won't bite, I promise."

He was hastate, but took it "Adam."

"There a last name? We have a ton of Adams here." Big fat lie, but why not start a conversation?

"Cyncad." He tried to fit his books into the locker, "You?"

"Millar. Hey, you know there's this top thing for your books? It only opens if your locker is though."

He looked up, then looked at me. He put two fingers side ways and flipped them back and forth.

"Top," I said smiling "I got bottom."

He seemed to grin "Too short?"

"No? I'm um, afraid of heights?" We both laughed at my stupid little joke.

I froze at the sound of booming laughter not far down the hall. I didn't have to turn to know it was Gaston with his clique of basketball and football players with a few cheerleaders on the side.

"I don't mean to sound rude, but I really have to go. It was nice meeting you and I hope we have some classes together, bye." I quickly ran down the hall, around the corner and into the girls' bathroom, hoping that Angus didn't see me or Adam. I don't mean to sound that I'd be embarrassed to be seen in public with him, but, a nice looking guy that isn't in with Gaston is more rare at this school then trying to find a living T-Rex in New York City.

Just then, the bell rang for first hour. I sighed in relief and walked to Honors English 9.

I sat down at my table with my best friend Olive Potts, who was desperately trying to finish the Mockingbird questions.

"Shit!" I said "Did you get that done? Please say you did."

"Want to copy?"

"Yes, yes, yes you life saver." I swiped the paper from under her and quickly copied.

"Hey," she said kicking me under the table "Who's that?"

I looked up to see who she was pointing at, "Oh, that's Adam Cyncad;" I said "He's new. Hey, he can sit by us."

"No objects here."

"Adam." I called over.

He looked around; I waved my hand, catching his eye and waved him over to sit by us.

He did, and introduced him to Olive; and of course the first thing out of her mouth was "So, I'm assuming that you're poor white trash like the rest of the school?"

"Ol!" I scolded "What the hell are you on?" But Adam just shook his at her question.

"Upper class white trash? Ow!" I stamped her foot, but again he shook his head.

"Dare I ask middle class?" I even wanted to see what he said to this, I'm in the middle of middle class and thought maybe he could be in the same boat as me.

He shook his head.

Olive and I looked at each other wide eyed, then looked at him "Rich?" Olive whispered across the table.

He nodded.

We covered each others mouths to keep from blurting out something stupid, and he laughed under his breath. "What's with the shock?" he asked lowly.

"To expand on her first question," I said lightly "most of this school is poor white trash that will probably never move far from here. The richest guy here is a dumb jock named Gaston."

"Gaston? Strange name."

"You should hear his first." Olive groaned and sighed at the say time. Like most girls, she wished for Gaston to take her. Or ask her to the dance, which ever came first.

"What's the first?"

I looked both ways, to make sure none of his tattle tail friends were listening; then motioned him closer so I could whisper.

"Angus."

He cleared his throat to cover a low laugh, "Really?"

I nodded. "Say out loud, and it's the last word you ever say."

"Well, remember that one kid that said 'fuck you' to him has he was taken away to the hospital?"

"Oh yeah, he out yet?"

"No."

"Too bad."

"Okay class," Mr. Ratu said walking to the front of the classroom "Let's listen to the next three chapters of To Kill a Mockingbird from the CD.

Everyone went silent as the drone of the southern accented woman read.

I wrote a note saying What's you're next hour? and handed it to Adam.

Honors Biology 9

I'm going to laugh if we have every hour together.

…*shrug*