Tech class is my last before lunch. At least I'm going to be good at it. I've always loved technology and engineering, so this should be an easy A. The classroom was separated from the main school complex, annexed off on its own. I've been waiting for two years to enter this building and take this course, so I found the classroom with ease. I walked inside and gazed upon my new favorite classroom. Saws and drills and workbenches and tools scattered the room the size of a garage. After taking it all in, I looked at the seating chart being projected in front to find my assigned seat, and to see if any of my friends had the class with me. Instead of normal desks and chairs, we had workbenches and stools: four people to each bench, and I'm sitting next to strangers. Two of them were already there: Jackson and Andrew. I took my seat and looked at the chart again, taking note that none of my friends were in this class. Great. The last person to arrive at our table is a girl named Ashley Wilson. Of course it's an Ashley. I've always disliked Ashleys. They've always been stuck-up and selfish. She'll probably partner up with me all the time and make me do her work for her because she doesn't want to break a nail using a drill press. The bell rang, breaking my train of thought. And of course, Ashley Wilson is making a great first impression by being late on day one—if she even decides to show up.

The teacher took attendance to learn all our names and make sure we were in the right seats. Just as he was about to start handing out the syllabus, the whole class turned their attention to the sound of the door opening. A small girl with red hair under a beanie tried her hardest to come in undetected, but she knew her plan was foiled when she turned around to see all of our eyes on her. Her face began to flush as she scampered from the door. "I'm sorry I'm late," she sounded a bit flustered, "I like just moved here and I'm new and I couldn't find the tech building—"

"It's okay," the teacher interjected, "What's your name?"

"It's Ashley. Ashley Wilson."

As she talked with the teacher, she stepped closer to all of us in the center, and I couldn't stop staring. Her red hair glistened under the fluorescent lights (which was impressive in itself); her eyes were big and a mesmerizing shade of green; she was wearing a grey shirt with Captain America's shield on it that seemed to be sliding off of her petite frame, juxtaposed by denim shorts that elongated her legs and accentuated her tiny waist. She was so small and adorable.

"Miss Wilson, your seat is next to," the teacher paused to look for her on the seating chart, "Mister Johnson. Christopher."

Still staring at her, my mouth probably agape, I slowly raised my hand to let her associate a face to the name. She lit up with a smile and scampered toward me, only to put her backpack down behind her stool, and sit facing the projector so her back was toward me. The teacher handed out copies of the syllabus, but I didn't bother to pay attention. I only began to focus again when he said, "So today we're going to have a little fun. You're going to partner up with the person sitting next to you to design a stable structure made of plastic straws."

When he said we'd be partnering up, Ashley turned around and smiled at me, and I did my best to look like she wasn't the subject of my gaze all class, but nervously smiled back. Once the boxes of materials (straws, scissors, hot glue guns) were handed out, Ashley turned to face me, and wanted confirmation of my name, "Chris…topher, yea?"

"Just, uh, Chris is fine, if you don't mind," I stuttered

"Okay, Just Chris," She giggled, "Any ideas for what we should make? I already know how to make a damn good bridge out of straws, so that'd be easy, but I'm kind of feeling like challenging myself today."

I'm gonna admit it: that caught me by surprise. She's shattering all of my preconceptions in a matter of minutes. Her excitement to work on this project was contagious, and her joyful disposition made me feel comfortable with her already. Her ten-foot smile made me grin right back as I asked, "Do you think there's a height limit?"

Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped; she loved the idea. "Let's find out."

We made a great team. We planned together, and she took initiative by saying she'd handle the glue gun while I measured and cut the straws. While cutting and gluing, we talked superheroes and comics versus movies, and it felt like we had been friends for a while. About halfway through, Ashley stood on her stool to glue the straws to the top of the tower, and unplugged the glue gun in the process. The plug whacked her leg and she let out a whimpering "ow!" which immediately had me go to her aide. "Ash, you okay?" I asked as I helped her sit back in her stool.

"I'll be alright. The dang plug nipped me," She said, rubbing her wound. Then she let out a slight laugh and said, "Maybe we should switch jobs now."

I laughed with her and agreed, and by the end of class, we made a four-foot tower out of straws and hot glue. The teacher and the whole class were impressed with our creation, and how stable it was. Ashley took a photo of it on her phone, and I decided it'd be fun to photo bomb her. I leaned in next to our tower, stuck out my tongue, and did the 'rock on' symbol with my hands. She was laughing as she said, "Oh my god, hold the pose, these keep coming out blurry since I'm laughing so much! Let me add you on Instagram so I can tag you in this."

When the bell rang signifying the end of class, I asked her where she was going next, and she said she was going to lunch. "Do you want someone to sit with?" I asked.

"Well, I don't want to like barge in on your usual friend-group or anything, Chris—"

My heart skips a beat whenever I hear her say my name. "Don't worry about it, Ash. I'm sure they'll like you."

"You think so?"

I looked into her mystifying eyes, and had to fight being tongue-tied. "I know so."

As we walked to the cafeteria, we swapped phones to follow each other on Instagram, but before we could swap back, Ashley took a bit longer than I expected, so I glanced over to what she was doing. "Uh, Ash? My phone?"

"Hold on a second," She turned away from me, hiding the screen.

All of a sudden, her phone vibrated in my hand, and I looked to see my phone number on her screen, and the message was just the smiley with sunglasses emoji. We swapped phones back and I texted back "cute". After hitting "send", I got a notification from Instagram saying that Ashley tagged me in a photo. I opened the app to see what it was, and it was the silly photo of me and the tower with a black and white filter. I smiled as I double tapped it, and a red heart faded on and off the screen. I scrolled down to read the caption:

Look, ma, I made a friend! #firstdayhighlights #thecooliest