Tomorrow

Chapter One: Meeting the Wall

"We don't meet people by accident. They are meant to cross our paths for a reason," -Roy T. Bennett.

The school bell rings and echoes through the hall. On cue, buttloads of students begin to squish into different classes. My eyes scramble to find the room number I need to go to. I feel like a lost duck. I don't know where to go or who to go to.

My head snaps from side to side. Students bump into my shoulder, almost pushing me down. Dirty looks cross my face as I scowl at the brainless people around me. Cursing under my breath, I reach into my pocket. My fingers brush against a slim piece of paper that's folded into a square. I grab it and pull it out.

I unravel it and search for my homeroom number. An AHAH, moment goes through my head when I find: Mr. Banks Room B3. A small smile finds its way to my lips. But it quickly disappears when a wall runs into me.

Wait... since when do walls move?

I stumble backward until my butt touches the tile floor. Since I'm wearing shorts, I can feel the stone-cold tile prickle goosebumps up and down my legs. Shivers roll down my spine. A stinging pain finds its way to my arse, making me wince.

The people I fell on curse at me. Glowers and glares reach me, burning holes into my body. I scoff to myself. But my eyes avert their attention towards whatever is in front of me.

It turns out that the 'wall' that 'ran' into me isn't a wall at all! In fact, it's a really tall human with a brick-like stomach. Our eyes collide. His eyes are the color of summer green leaves. But they're toxic and bitter. His tan skin is sunkissed and clear from any acne. His broad shoulders fuel to the effect of how tall he is. He has to be 6'2. Maybe 6'3?

The wall-- thee stranger's ink-black hair looks fluffy and full of volume. It's messily styled, letting the locks fall naturally. It frames his face perfectly, making me somewhat envious. His lips are full and pursed into a frown. One of his flawless eyebrows is arched upwards. That model jawline of his is sharp, ready to slice my head off.

Now looking at him, I realize that he can be the perfect murderer. He has the body for it, the looks to get away with, and, based on the clothes he's wearing, he has the money for it too. And, by the way he's looking at me, it seems like I'm the one he's gonna slash with his axe.

Not if you kill him first, the devil-me says in my head.

Really? With that body, I'd be squashed in two seconds flat! I protest.

The other voice goes quiet. My lips purse together, trying not to smile at the quiet defeat.

Soon, reality snaps back to me. The brick wall-- the dude in front of me clears his throat. His eyes bore into mine, expecting something from me. My brows furrow in confusion as I reach his gaze.

So I return his gaze with the same look he's enforcing upon me. I mean, he's the one who ran into me. I deserve a 'sorry'! Just a word would be okay, too!

"Is there something you want?" He asks. His voice is deep and laced with venom.

Okay, I take it back. I'd rather have a 'sorry'.

I'm taken back by his words. What does he mean by that?! He's the one who ran into me! I'm the innocent one! I wasn't the one moving! I was just standing in the middle of the hallway, minding my own business! I re-think what I just said in my head.

Crap. I'm at fault, too.

But still! The audacity this guy has! How can someone just run into another person and ask, 'Is there something you want'? Who does that? An arrogant idiot, that's who!

"You're the one who ran into me, bud." I deadpan.

A few 'oos' and 'oof' come from around me. It's now that I see that I have an audience. Shocked expressions lay on their faces. My brows knit together. Questions spill into my head.

Why do people look so concerned? What's going on? When did I last eat?

My mind halts to a stop when the guy in front of me looks at me with a deadly stare. His jaw clenches, his knuckles turn white, and his eyes ignite in fury. The stranger nods his head slowly, eyes never leaving me. And, being honest, I look around to make sure that I'm the one he's planning to murder.

Sadly, there's no one else it can be. It's just me, myself, and him.

"Excuse me?"

"Excuse you."

Bursts of nervous laughter spread around me. I look up at them all. Everyone looks so... intimidating since I'm still on the ground. My arms have outstretched behind me, with my palms lying flat on the floor. Plus, it makes the person in front of me even scarier.

A lump clogs the back of my throat. I'm starting to regret standing up for myself.

Wearily, I look back up at him. He looks like he's about to blow. His lips open, ready to spit out harsh words. But, thankfully, before anything comes out, a girl with purple hair jumps in front of me.

"Adrian," the girl says, her voice dripping in a warning tone. "She's new."

My brows pinch together. Is it really that obvious?

The Wall-boy, who turns out to be Adrian, glares between the two of us. His green eyes flicker between me and the purple-haired lady. I squirm under everyone's stare. I've always hated attention. There's never just 'good' attention. No one has the same opinion. There's always at least someone who looks at it differently.

Adrian grunts, rolling his eyes. I now see that there are two other guys by him. One is on each side. They both watch him and me, like the rest of the people around us.

The one on the left has oak-brown hair. His blue eyes are as blue as the Pacific Ocean. His skin is a light tan. He's slightly smaller than Adrian but not as much. He watches me with what almost looks like sympathy clouding his eyes.

The one on the right has caramel-blonde hair and chestnut-brown eyes. His cheeks are a rosy color, flushed with a peach tone. He even looks familiar. I must have seen him earlier today. Yeah, I think I did. He was flirting with some cheerleader.

Oh, I say in my head. They're the stereotypical bad boys of the school. Great! Just great!

Adrian mutters something to the guys around him. They both nod their heads. They don't look back at me. The only one who has their eyes reach mine is Wall-boy.

I can't even read his expression anymore. All I know is that he's pissed off. Why? I have no idea! He's the idiot who bumped into me!

They walk forwards, heading my and purple-haired girl's way. I tense, unsure of what they're doing. Based on the purple-haired girl's movements, she watches them walk by. I slowly stand up, scared that they might step on me. From down here, they look like giants!

By the time I'm fully up, the purple-haired girl is looking my way. Her skin is fair, with dotted freckles on her face. Her curtain bangs frame her face. Thick violet strands of hair cascade down to her shoulders like a waterfall. Mauve highlights slip through her hair, making it look like there are different shades of purple instead of just two. Her silver-grey eyes are dimmed with weariness. She looks bold. A red plaid skirt cloaks over her waist and down above her knees. A white top and leather jacket covers her arms and chest. A black belt circles her waist, and a red choker clasps around her neck. She's wearing black boots with two fishnet socks. One reaches up to her calve, and the other almost reaches her knee.

My attention averts elsewhere when someone grabs my wrist. Their grip is tight enough that it almost breaks my bones. A yelp escapes my lips. My head snaps upwards to see the side of someone's face. And when I say someone, I mean Wall-boy's.

Even from the side of his face, he looks good.

His lips brush against my ear as he threatens, "Watch your back, New Girl."

After that, his shoulder jerks into mine, causing me to stumble backward again. Except, this time, I catch myself before I fall. I spin on my heel, glaring at him as he walks back down the hall.

He leaves me with a burning temper.

How dare he say that to me! I did nothing but read my schedule! What was he doing? Just walking without looking at what's in front of him? Well, he's gonna go so far in life! If he can walk, that is!

I ball my fists, unsure of what to do with myself. I want to go up to the guy and confront him with the fact that he's the one who bumped into me! If I didn't make that clear enough, already!

Slowly, the anger blows away. My racing heart calms down, and my fists uncoil. I take in a deep breath and then exhale. I turn back around, trying to forget about the dumb boy. My eyes meet the purple-haired girl.

I smile weakly.

"Thank you," I say. My voice comes out quieter than I have hoped.

Her face brightens. She smiles widely, revealing her pearl white teeth. Her eyes squeeze closed as she says, "Anytime!"

And that's when I made my first friend in California.