School Me

Dainy

Reagan parks his car in his spot just as Barton hollow starts to play from the speakers. He switches the car off, cutting the music and the vocals to one of my a.t.f (All-time favorites). The small space now silenced as he faces me, no doubt wanting to hear what I got to say. Unfortunately seconds later Lucan is opening the passenger door so I can get out, no chance of talking now. My eyes widen at the sight of Reagan's best friend. His black hair is cut short resembling a military haircut which is a huge surprise considering for the past nine years he has kept it long. The light sandy colored eyes that he inherited from his mother dance in mischief when he sees my ogling and dumbstruck expression. Unfortunately, his sense of sick humor hasn't changed. The white tee stretched across his chest hasn't changed either, nor is it a surprise that Reagan is wearing an identical white tee just like Lucan. Only difference is that Lucan is wearing his signature style of cargo shorts, whereas Reagan has on a pair of well fitted Levi’s that shape his sexy butt. I turn to stare at Reagan's blue gaze that is sending retribution glares over my head to his friend for interrupting us. We didn't talk after my brother left and we didn't talk on our way to school, the silence wasn't uncomfortable. However, we need to discuss things and now that we are at school with Lucan in tow, I don't see that happening until much later and neither does Reagan by his snarly expression. The three of us completely ignore the people by the tree that are openly gawking at us and the large crowd gathering around Reagan's car. This is who we are, what we stand for, this is popularity. Just one of many moments that make us Liston Hill's most influential teens. If Reagan and I are going to make it official, the crowd would need to see us and knowing Lucan and his extravagant ways, I'm not surprised when he pulls me out of the car, encasing me in a hug. Lucan says into my ear, “Hey Dainy, long time.” “Saw you Yesterday,” I mumble into his chest as I hug him back. A strong arm from behind encases me around my waist, Reagan. At this stage I could make a scene, or I could go with it. My actions right now would be his answer. Ignoring his cologne scented shirt and strong arms, I wiggle out of his arm-cage. I don't waste time when I start hearing the hush voices all around me. Instead, I drop my head, so I don't have to look at Reagan as I go to grab my bag from the car. When I sling my pack over my shoulder, I glide up to him and beam. His hair looks lighter in the outdoors, standing in the hot sun. It's easy to see those dark streaks of gold on the sides. I’ve never known that his hair color was anything but black. Feeling chuffed with myself for noticing something new about Reagan I take his hand in mine. He pulls me close to his chest at the same time slipping my bag off my shoulder and throwing it at someone behind me. And just like that, Reagan and I are officially a couple. "You had me worried for a minute there Dainy." I laugh, "Can't let you have all the fun Orniel." He groans, "What happened to calling me Reagan." We cross the parking lot toward the white building that was once a castle many years ago but now is known as Liston High Private School. I enjoy the subtle change in the air as we get closer to the rows of trees serving as a barrier between school and the parking lot. The crowds scatter as we walk through the well-manicured path-way that leads to the entrance of our prestigious school. The square hedges fencing the way to the double red doors has been reshaped since last year. It's the shape that has many people stopping and girls giggling. I presume the hedges were supposed to look like small hills but it looks more like small hills of dump. I smile at that because last year forty-four-year-old Principal Haynes was asking Ms Nalen, my physics teacher whether she was available in the holidays to oversee the schools remodeling. She said no, but he kept asking. A few weeks later when I heard she finally agreed I was stunned. Now however, It makes sense, my smile widens at the thought of what the inside is going to look like. Reagan notices my chirpy mood, "Not that I'm complaining, but what are you so happy about? You hardly one to find amusement in someone else's pranks. Misshaped trees isn't that funny.” I snort, shrug and slip my hand into his back pocket, "Wait and see."