This chapter is dedicated to ItsJustMe4155. HI HAHAHA

recap of ch. two: j+a go in the haunted house, alexandria accidentally hugs julian's arm.

c h . t h r e e :

s c h o o l

"THIS IS THE WORST THING THAT HAS HAPPENED to me, ever."

Ynna whines in the corner of my pale blue room, waiting for me to finish getting ready by pointing my failures in life, plus all the worst possible outcomes of today.

"Sorry, you know how slow I do things," I apologize, laying out my black cat hoodie in the center of my bed.

"And this is why you should never go to a fair before the first day of school!" she lectures.

"But. . . you wouldn't believe how slow I was too a while ago. Took the dog to wake me up," she chuckles, reminiscing her own story, but it looks more like laughing for her own sanity to relieve stress.

"So. . . we're even?" I ask.

"Of course not. Hurry up, slow poke. I'm starting the car, and your sorry ass better be there in five minutes if you want a free ride."

"But I'm your best friend!" I plead, watching as Ynna widens her eyes at me.

"That's. The. Point." she finishes, stepping outside.

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Eventually, the two of us reach the familliar orange bricks and cobblestones of Rutherford High. The hollow, dry air flies through my brown locks.

School is back -- the distant scent of cafeteria food and brand new school supplies, plus the shiny red lockers aligning with the white marble tiles is proof enough.

And we are late.

Ynna faces me with pale cheeks as she squeezes my wrist, coursing chilly splintered bits through her touch. She's definitely nervous. Ynna Heart's vast capability of being drowned by over thinking is truly intruiging.

"Okay. Since we're late because of you, I'll be heading to my first class. Good luck," she says, voice barely a whisper. I catch her rushing to the other side from the corner of my eye.

Sighing, I turn around and make my way to history. The quiet atmosphere is a dead giveaway that Mr. E is already starting the class, so I shiver as my knuckles softly knock on the door.

When it opens, the room is filled to the brim with everyone shooting merciless bullets through their stares.

"Ah, Ms. Connor. Lovely to see you, what --"

"I'm really, really sorry, Mr. E. But you see, our car kind of, had a problem and it was really unfortunate that it just had to happen today. I'll accept detention sir, and even help you out if --"

"Xandria --"

"I know I've been late too last year, and --"

"Xandria --"

"It's senior year and I should definitely be more disciplined --"

"Xandria -- " I gulp.

"Yes?"

"I shall forget about that, child. There will be no need for punishment whatsoever." he says with a smile. I nod my head in thanks, avoiding any more eye contact. At least being every teacher's pet had its benefits, but there were still moments that the uncertainity made me anxious.

Waddling guiltily to the single empty spot in the classroom, I happen to find a seat in the front left side. I shrug off the event, start listening, and take notes. That is, until Mr. E shows us an old black and white documentary of world war two.

My eyes slowly fall, and I feel my head dip to the right. Darkness blotches my vision, until I feel my upper side land on something soft and warm. The last thing I hear is Mr. E blabbering about how the United States conquered a country in Asia.

Until one minute later, where I am awoken by a vocally annoyed grunt.

"Julian?!" I say, rubbing my eyes to see if I'm dreaming. When he doesn't respond and locks his eyes on the television, I know that this is real. And I immediately wish I had gotten enough rest yesterday.

I've slept on his shoulder -- and might I say, even enjoyed it.

"You study here?" I ask, poking him on the cheek with my black pen -- each tap resulting in a low growl.

"No, I'm a ghost from the haunted house!" he says sarcastically. The deep lazy voice of his brings back memories from yesterday, memories I should barely care about, but touch me by the slightest nonetheless.

"Yeah right. So, I'm guessing you're new here?"

"No. I've been studying here since seventh grade."

"What? How come I've never seen you?" I chirp. He eyes me weirdly.

"I was in your English and Math class during eighth grade." He says, rubbing his temples.

"Oh. Well, I have a very limited knowledge of people who study here, so --"

"Could you please be quiet? I'm trying to listen." he leans his cheek next to his fists and drapes the hoodie over his hair.

"Come on, don't you think it's time for peace?" I offer, poking him again, but he only ignores me.

"Mr. Foster!" the teacher's voice sends us all spiraling awake, especially Julian, who almost drops his pen and violet notebook.

"Yes sir?"

"Please stop disturbing the class, and refrain from flirting with Ms. Connor." he scolds. Julian rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, which I notice is some habbit of his.

"As if I'd flirt with someone like her. . . " he mumbles quietly. I pretend not to hear and shut my eyes tightly, as if that will magically obliterate my bottled up embarrassment.

"Sorry for that! I promise I won't be such a bother to you anymore." 

"You could do that by shutting up." he says crossly.

I open my mouth to respond, but process what he says and dejectedly go back to focusing on the film.

I could already tell that twelfth grade would be a drastically long year.

a u t h o r ' s  n o t e

Progress, guys! I can't believe I'm still able to balance this with Utterly Impossible. And gosh, this chapter is looong. I hope you guys liked the story so far, and please do vote and comment! It means the world to me and I'd really appreciate it if you did ♡

- s t e l l a r d r e a m s