We held each other's hands briefly. It was like we were giving each other strength. He put his hand on my shoulder and sighed.

"C'mon, Mars," he said in his thick Irish accent. I ran my hand through my reddish orange hair. A strand got caught in my thick tribal bracelet. I discarded it and nodded at Damo.

Damian and I had been neighbors and schoolmates for four years. When our school, St. Burroughs, burned to the ground, we both transferred to William McKinley along with another fifty students just like us.

His blue eyes met my brown ones and we walked to the front door. We reached a desk that said "New Student Transfers." We walked to it nervously. Well, I was nervous. I get nervous easily, not Damo though. He's always been good at talking to people. I mostly mumble.

"Names," the girl at the desk asked our names. She had brunette hair and a blue denim dress on with a bright red belt. Her teeth were almost too white.

"McGinty," Damo said confidently, letting the accent do all the charming. It worked. She melted right before our eyes. She giggled a little and handed him his name tag with Damian McGinty written on it with bright red letters and a sheet with directions to his homeroom.

"Von Bleiken," I whispered shyly. She quickly handed me a nametag with Marissa Von Bleiken in red and directions, all the while staring dreamily at Damian.

I rolled my eyes and pushed him along. I swear I saw her teeth sparkle when I looked back. "C'mon, Lover Boy," I said, making Damo move, "You'll see plenty of her later."

"She was absolutely beautiful," he said, looking at me and grinning sheepishly like he always did whenever he fell for a girl (which was quite often.) "Did you see her eyes, they were so blue!"

"Yep like you and eight percent of the population," I said. I've always had a thing for numbers. That paired with my super retentive memory allows me to memorize facts that no one cares about. "You know what's pretty? Green eyes! Only one to two percent of the population has green eyes! Now those are something to swoon after!"

Damo's eyebrow went up, like it often does. It's like his signature move or something. "What do you have against blue eyes?"

"Nothing!" I said quickly, knowing how fond Damo is of his eyes, "They just aren't exactly unheard of!"

"And brown eyes are?" he exclaimed, crossing his arms indignantly. I scowled and set my mouth in a frown, giving Damo a deathly glare. He knows how I hate my eyes!

I wish I had my sister's eyes. They're beautiful and Amethyst. I'm very jealous of her. She's away at college.

"Sorry," he grumbled. Damn his beautiful accent! About ten girls stopped when they heard him speak.

Damo's never had any trouble when it comes to girls. The accent allows him anything or anyone he wants. I, on the other hand, am terrible when it come to guys. I find a hot guy, work up the courage to talk to him, and then I mostly just end up speaking really fast, mumbling, or blushing and running away quickly. The only guy I've ever been able to talk to is Damian.

We made our way down the hall. I was studying my schedule intently while Damo just held his head up and smiled at everyone. My black reading glasses were almost falling off my nose.

"Whoa, Mars, look out," Damo said, but it was too late. I slammed right into someone, knocking my glasses off.

I noticed it was a guy. I started saying my apologies incoherently. I probably looked like some mental patient that escaped the psychiatric ward at Lima Hospital.

"It's fine," the guy said quietly, before walking off with his head down. I couldn't help but watch him go. He looked so upset. He had blue eyes and black dread locks.

"I liked his hair…" I said, still looking at him. He had that mysterious aura I was attracted to. Damo's eyebrow went up as he looked at me; I made a face that probably wasn't very pretty.

"C'mon," I said, rolling my eyes. I started off again, "What's your first class?" I seemed to always change the subject whenever I got uncomfortable.

"Spanish with Mr. Schuester," he said, reading his schedule, "You?"

"French with Madam DeLoure," I said. I groaned. I suck at French.

"Te veré más tarde" Damian said, waving.

"I think it's, à bientôt, Damian," I said, beginning to fumble through my French dictionary. Damian laughed at said goodbye to me in English. I smiled sheepishly and put my dictionary down, waving at him.

I walked down the hall to find my locker. 214, 214… I found it but it was covered in crime scene tape. I couldn't decide whether it was artful decorating or if I would open it to find a decapitated head. Lovely thoughts…

A boy in thick glasses and a weird, but somehow attractive, hair color walked up to the locker above me. I have the bottom locker, fantastic.

I sighed, reaching forward and turning the combination. It clicked open. No head, thank God. I stuffed my green bag into the cold metal locker.

"I'm Cameron," the glasses guy told me. He looked awkward but talked confidently.

"Hi," I said stiffly, terrible with introductions, "Marissa." He held out his hand and I took it uncomfortably. I suddenly felt the strong need for Germ-X. Damn you, germaphobia. Maybe there's some in my bag…

"Are you one of the new transfers?" he asked, "From that private school that burned down?"

"Yeah," I said shortly, my voice too high for my taste, "yeah, I, uh, am." I couldn't figure out why I was stuttering. I scratched my nose like I usually do when I'm talking to someone I don't know. I wonder why I do that…

He closed his locker and held out his hand to help me up. I took it slowly after staring at it for a second.

"So, who were you at your old school?" he asked, still holding my hand. I pulled it back quickly. I scowled at him. What kind of a question was that? "Hey, sorry," he said, putting his hands up in defense, "Just curious!"

I shrugged, "It's fine." I felt bad for him but it was a stupid question. I figured I'd answer it, though. "I just didn't understand the question." It was true!

"Oh," he said, laughing shakily, "I meant what cliques were you a part were of? Who were your friends?" Why was he asking these questions?

"Um…" I started, very awkwardly, "I, uh… Well, our school was very small, and uh, there weren't any real cliques. We all just hung out most of the time. There were only twenty-four people in my class." I was having serious trouble with speaking around this guy. He made me feel stupid with his upfront attitude.

A bell rang over the school and Cameron waved, going on his way. I rushed to the classroom using the directions the brunette at the desk had given me. I could tell this was probably going to be a long day…

AN:Ok, so I fell in love with TGP and I read some fanfic and decided to go for it. Hope you like it ;) Reviews always welcome!

Love,

ErinColleen