Untitled Chapter 2 (He's Fallen)

    When I get to first period Algebra 2, I take my normal seat in the middle of the left half of the class. The classroom is divided in two so that my teacher--who is always covered in chalk--can use both the chalkboards at the front and back of the room without making us have to turn completely in our seats.
    “Hi, Lia.” Gabby says from her seat behind me.
    Gabby transferred here sometime during Freshmen year along with Erin who sits next to her. They’re supposedly sisters even though they’re complete opposites. Everything about Gabby is  girly, peppy and sweet with curly dirty-blonde hair and green eyes. She’s teacher’s pet and could easily be the most popular girl in school if she’d actually talk to anyone besides her sister. Erin is more like a kick-a*s, goth, bad girl with straight, long, jet black hair and blue eyes. Two years of having her in all my classes has taught me that she’s cynical and cranky and sometimes, she seems slightly, dangerously insane.
    Gabby has tried to befriend me over the last few years, but there’s just something strange and intimidating about her and her sister that keeps me away.
    “Hey.” I say back politely and take my seat.
    Briana Hainsworth, a popular, slightly dimwitted Senior who I’ve known from my French class waves when she sees me on the way to her seat.
    The bell rings and Mr. Hoffman--a.k.a. Half Man--starts class, instructing us to take out notebooks and pass up our homework, stopping only when someone walks into class a few minutes late.
    It’s the guy I’d seen in the courtyard this morning.
    He walks up to the front of the room and hands the neon green late slip and a piece of white paper to Mr. Hoffman who introduces him.
    “Class, this is Michael.” He says. “I trust you’ll do your part in making him feel welcome. Michael, you can take the seat right there next to Lia and share a book with her until we can get you one tomorrow.”
    I almost cringe at the way he says that because I thought I’d been doing bad in school before with so much homework and possibly having A.D.D seeing as it’s so difficult to concentrate in class. How will I do because now I have an incredibly gorgeous guy sitting next to me?
    Out of the corner of my eye, I see Erin and Gabby gaping, though not in the “whoa-he’s-hot” way. More like they can’t believe their eyes.
    Mr. Hoffman begins the lesson and I can feel the new guy, Michael, staring at me.
    When I turn to look at him, his expression is unreadable, never the less, my heart jumps. He looks for a moment more before turning to the front of the room, but throughout the class he doesn’t take any notes and doesn’t write a single example. He stares. The entire lesson.
    He must be thinking something. No one--not even me--could zone out for an entire double period.
    Once again, I resented Mr. Hoffman’s class. He gives notes for practically the entire class. People had told me Junior year would be the worst, but I didn’t expect this. And taking notes for a third of a period that’s an hour and a half kind of sucks. To make matters worse, when we begin our classwork and I’m forced to scoot my chair closer to Michael’s so that he can use my book, it’s like a have a new kid radar. I’m acutely aware of him.
    Even though he hadn’t touched his notebook and it seemed he hadn’t paid attention the whole lesson, he does his classwork with ease. As if he’d known everything we learned today already. He finishes before I do.
    The class seems to drag on forever until finally, the bell rings.
    “Thank you.” Michael says and I stop for a moment, his voice stunning me. It’s velvety and low and he has a slight British accent.
    What also surprises me is the way he looks at me, straight in the eyes. As if normal teenagers did that. But suddenly, he doesn’t seem like a normal teenager. Something about him makes me think he’s much older, much more mature than he appears.
    But that would be ridiculous.
    “Y-your welcome.” I stutter and then shove my binder into my over-sized purse, pick up my book, and leave the class.
    I walk closely behind Gabby and Erin in the packed halls on the way to Biology. They’re talking with their heads close together, just loudly enough that I can catch parts of their conversations.
    “Why is he here?” Erin asks in an agitated whisper. “We’ve done nothing wrong.”
    “I don’t we’ve done anything wrong, Erin.” Gabby says in her thick Southern accent, sounding worried. “I think he has. He must have disobeyed. He’s fallen.”
    What the hell does that mean?
    I don’t ponder over it for long, because when I step into class right behind Erin and Gabby, Michael is there at the lab table at the back of the room that I usually have to myself.
    I’m trying to figure out if that’s good or bad fortune as I take my seat and prepare for another agonizingly long period.