“What do you think the assembly’s about this time?” I asked my best friend Angie. She had sleek black hair straight as a pin that was ten times better than my ugly brown hair that could never decide whether or not it wanted to curl. She had emerald green eyes that dazzled everyone she looked at; I had eyes that couldn't seem to decide between green and blue, and ended up a hideous mix of the two.
“Probably be something lame, like all the others,” she responded.
“I hear they got Dean Iver to come and talk to the school,” piped up Jean, one of my other friends and the biggest gossip in the school. Jean was the picture of perfection, as in, model material. She had beautiful golden curls and bright, piercing blue eyes. She had the perfect complexion and was always tanned. I couldn't help but compare my pale, freckled self to her. Especially when she spread a nasty rumor about me. You see, I'm liked not for my looks so much as my personality. I am a very bubbly excitable person, and now, thanks to Jean, I have the looks too.
“I wish the school would get him to come here,” I said wistfully. “That would be a dream come true.”
“Could all students please report to the auditorium for our special assembly,” the secretary ‘asked’ over the loud speaker.
“I guess that means we can go find out,” Angie stated. The three of us strutted down the hall that was covered in stupid inspirational posters. I rolled my eyes as we passed one that was bright pink with the bright blue words 'A lot of problems would disappear if we just talked to each other instead of about each other' written on it. I mean, you should consider it an honor that we talk about you at all. The majority of the kids at this high school tried to stay invisible so they wouldn't butt heads with us. 889Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡflQMbUQbEW
As we walked, other kids were staring at us whether it was with envy, fear, respect, or just checking us out. The whole school knew who I was, not that I could say the same about them. I only knew the select people I either hung out with or dated.
After passing the glares of my numerous ex-boyfriends we reached the girls bathroom, just a pit stop on the way to the assembly. Taking our sweet time we fixed our make-up, gossiped, and just hung out until about five minutes after the assembly had started.
I stopped in front of the cafeteria, putting my arms out to stop the other two from going in.889Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkssug982qk
"We went over this!" I hissed at them. "We wait until he starts talking to make our entrance to prove to him that he can't boss us around. We will show up to things when we want to." I looked up at the colorful sign over the auditorium door reading 'live love act' in block letters of all different colors. God I hate all these stupid posters and signs. They make our school look like a rainbow of sunshine and happiness. Finally, I heard Principal Woods start talking. I waited a moment before whispering, "Now," and throwing open the back doors to the auditorium, strutting in like I owned the place.889Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMef0tepHPv
All eyes were immediately on me, the seniors were staring at me with annoyance, the juniors with respect, the sophomores with defiance, and the freshmen with pure fear. I smirked. It had taken me four years to get this reaction out of people, and I was more than proud of it. I took a quick look around the space to determine where to sit and saw an unrecognizable figure standing onstage next to the principal. It was probably whatever lame person he brought to talk to us about some lame subject.
Resuming my search for the perfect seat I saw the school jocks sitting in the back with some freshman. I stalked over and glared at them. “You’re in my seat,” I said to the one who looked the most like the leader of the group.
“But-“ she began to protest.
“I said, you’re in my seat,” I repeated with gritted teeth. Knowing she couldn’t win against me, the girl stood up and headed to another section of the auditorium with her little group in tow. “Hey babe,” I whispered, sitting down next to my boyfriend, the star quarterback of the football team, and pecking him on the cheek. This turned into a full blown make-out session with the entire school watching.
An person sitting in the front row, one of the nerds, cleared their throat. I turned back to the stage, rolling my eyes and slouching into my seat.
“Nice of you ladies to join us,” Principal Woods said, clearly annoyed by my antics. I smirked to myself, knowing I had accomplished my mission. “I was just about to introduce our special guest.” It was then that I saw him. He was here. In my cafeteria. In my school. In my town. The same guy I never thought I’d have to see again. I sat up straight, suddenly giving my full attention to the figure on the stage. I shook my head disbelievingly. I couldn’t be him. I must be imagining things. I mentally face palmed myself, but never relaxed my stiff posture.
“Elena,” Angie asked with concern, breaking me out of my trance, “are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost.”
I slowly shook my head then snapped, “I’m fine!” After taking a deep breath I added on, “I’m just…thinking about the summer. You know how I get when I’m thinking.” At least that part was true.
“Now I would like to present our guest speaker,” Principal Woods continued, “Mr. Aaron Cage!”
I shot out of my chair, speechless. All the memories from the summer came rushing back. His smile, his warmth, his lips . . . the heartbreak. After what he did to me, I could barely come back to school. And of course he is the talk of the decade, so it took everything in me not to cry at the mention of his name. Now he was here. I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself and not burst into tears. No one in this school had seen me cry before, and that wasn't about to start change. I would not start crying over some guy standing on a stupid stage.
“Elena?!” he said, seeming as surprised by my presence as I was by his. Over 300 bodies turned to stare questioningly at me. The room was silent. Of all the hundreds of schools in the country he could have visited, he had to choose mine. And I had told him a million times where I lived and what school I went to. Before the heartbreak. And of course he just had to come here. Probably just to spite me. That was the breaking point. Some people would think it was fate, telling us we were meant to be together, but I think it was just plain bad luck. A single tear rolled down my cheek as I ducked my head and tried to escape the stares of everybody who thought they knew me. “Elena, wait! I can explain!” he yelled, breaking the silence of this audience. As one, everyone stood and started talking, which I was actually grateful for. He had been trying to pursue me, and now there were hundreds of teenagers between us.
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