Chapter Three: The Letter

Listening to the teacher, she slowly drew her mother's necklace into her notebook, not bothering to write down any of the notes the teacher was writing down. Glancing up, she saw the same student, the one that made her want to run out of the school staring back at her. Dropping her pen, she stared at him who stared at her, until he finally looked away, looking up at the teacher before continuing to write the notes. Just as the teacher took a breath, the bell rang, instantly all of the students jumping out of their desks to get out of the class, wanting to talk to their friends. Gathering her stuff, she walked out of the door, heading over to her locker as she saw few students staring at her, the news of a new student suddenly disappearing, which she didn't mind. Opening her locker, she shoved in her books before looking at her schedule, seeing that she had Spanish next on her agenda and she quickly shut her locker, heading over to Spanish.
Talking with the teacher, she was pointed over to, again, the corner of the room where she sat down, waiting for the torture of Spanish to end. Once the bell rang, two people came running inside, one of them, of course, being the same person who made her skin crawl. Walking over, he sat down next to me, his friend sitting in front of him as he stared at me. Starting the lesson, she watched the teacher talk in Spanish, writing English sentences on the board, asking for students to translate them into Spanish.
"Amy," The teacher said, catching my attention as he said, "Read this sentence."
"Vas a estar escribiendo un ensayo trescientos palabra sobre la guerra española-estadounidense esta noche." Once she finished, the whole class groaned as the teacher went on, saying how our assignment who to write a three hundred word essay on the Spanish-American war and to get it in by tomorrow.
As she started to draw a dying flower in a jar on her notebook, she peered up to see him still staring at her and she looked back down, beginning to draw two arms leading down to them holding hands. Minutes passed by, finally reaching the bell to ring, making her get her books quickly, rushing out of the door as she saw him and his friend hurry to get up. Reaching around the corner, she held her breath as she saw her locker, stopping from almost running to walking as she touched it. Opening her locker, she quickly hid her face in it, watching him and his friend pass by, searching for her like she was the most wanted person on Earth. When they passed, she grabbed her math books, walking away from her locker only to have him stop her just outside the math door, his friend next to him.
"You've been staring at me all day." She claimed, staring at him as she leaned up against the wall.
"There's something about you. You're special, not like anyone around here." He said, looking into her eyes like he was searching for a lost item.
"Usually we'd start with saying hello, like introducing." Amy gripped the side of her books, watching him look into her eyes, her eyes looking back into his.
"Scott McCall. That's my friend, Stiles Stilinski." Scott introduced himself and his friend who looked a little sick or dizzy, like he was dead.
"There's a start. Look, can we do this after school or something?" She asked as she stared at the clock, seeing a minute and twenty seconds before the bell would ring.
"At your house?" Scott asked, wanting to dive in further into the conversation that he was interested in.
"My father won't be home tonight, just to warn you. The house will be all alone, just me, maybe you. Here's my address, think it over, and maybe I'll let you inside. Now, after school, okay?" Amy said as she wrote her address down on a piece of paper, handing it over to Scott before pushing pass, going into math as the bell rang.

Hearing the final bell ring, she took her books in her hands, about to leave when a girl put her hand on her shoulder, looking at her as she began to say, "You're that new girl, Amy, right?"
"Yeah." She mumbled as she watched the girl start to smile, her getting nervous as she wanted to know why she was looking for her.
"Lydia Martin," She said, holding out her hand as Amy hesitated to shake it, but she finally decided, shaking it as Lydia continued to talk. "Where'd you buy those shoes?"
"My step-sister bought them for me back in New Jersey." She said, hearing a compliment on the shoes as Lydia walked out the door with Amy following.
"I'm having a party next week and wanted to know if you'd want to come." Lydia suddenly said, inviting her to a party when she barely knew her.
"Parties don't like me." She said as she brushed back her hair, pulling it over her shoulder as she looked at Lydia who was staring at her.
"It'll be the best party you've ever went to. Trust me, there will be plenty of guys there." Lydia said, trying to persuade her into saying yes and going to the party.
"I'd rather stay home, but thanks for the offer." She said as she began to split from Lydia who whispered, "Who doesn't go to a party for boys?"

Reaching her house, she opened the door, finding a pile of mail on the floor, which she picked up before shutting the door. Going through each letter, all she found was bills and letters to her father until she reached one with her name on it. The strange part was that there was no return address, only her name followed by her address, nothing else. Holding it in her hand, she took out a bottle of orange juice, a small bottle, tossing the rest of the mail on the table in the kitchen before walking over to the stairs. After going up each floor, she managed to reach her room, tossing her bag next to the door before setting the orange juice on the table next to her bed. Beginning to open the letter, she ripped the side open, seeing a piece of blank paper inside. As she took it out, she put the envelope on the bed, undoing the paper that was folded. What she saw on the paper would be something she would never forget.