"Hey, how are you today?" I walk through the hallway, listening to people's conversations.

Everyone's so happy, and carefree. How can it always be so noisy on a Wednesday morning? Half of these people don't even rely on caffeine to be so alive.

I step into my homeroom and set the folder of announcements for my class on the teacher's desk, then pull out my roll call sheet. I sit down at the podium to the side of the room and begin filling out the chore list for the week. 

"Lelia, hey, could I ask for a favor?" I look up to see Claire giving me a fake smile, so I give her one back. 

"What is it, Claire?" She looks a little irritated, but fights to keep the smile on her face. Pfft, like I'd fall for such a sad excuse of a smile. 

She props a hand on her hip. "Well, you see, my dad has to go to Chicago this week, and so I'll have to take the bus to and from school." I stare at her with a blank expression, plus a smile. I have no idea what this has to do with chores. "I was hoping you wouldn't give me any chores, since I've never had to use busses before, I'm not too sure when they run." She's just trying to get out of chores. "I don't want to miss one and have to end up staying an hour at some random bus station. I could get kidnapped." She finishes her story.

I tilt my head to the side, giving her a deeper smile. "I'll make sure I only give you lunch time chores then, since you won't have to worry about a bus then. Thank you for telling me."

Claire's smile drops, and she's about to argue when the teacher walks in. She gives me a glare, then goes to her desk. 

I return to my work, and even send a nod to our teacher. He's a young teacher, but he's not the kind that makes a girl want to have a scandal. Instead, he's the kind that sleeps with men. "Good morning." He says with a joyful smile. It's probably the fact that he's past puberty and doesn't have raging hormones that he's able to be so happy. 

"Good morning, sir." I say, looking at my papers.

He sighs. "I'm not trying to draw out information, Lelia."

I grit my teeth, because I know he's nice, and I'm just moody. "Sorry, I know you're not." I smile at him. It's small, and I can barely make it, but it's still a smile. 

He takes a seat at his desk and opens the folder I had put there, and I go back to filling out the chores list. A couple of minutes before the bell rings, I place the chore list on the cork board at the back of the room, then I find my seat. 

I listen to the lecture and take notes, but I don't really participate in class. My grades are exceptional, but my dad would accept nothing less. At the end of class, an administrator knocks on the door. 

"Yes, come in." The teacher, Mr. Hill says. 

Her blue eyes look around the classroom until they see me. "Yes, I'd like to borrow Miss Viticello."

I squint in curious distrust. What on earth could they possibly need me for? 

"Of course, Lelia." He nods, motioning for me to follow the administrator. "One of your classmates will let you copy their notes later, I'm sure."

I stand. He shouldn't even attempt it. None of them will give them to me anyways. "Yes sir." The administrator watches me walk to her, and I fight the urge to give her a nasty look. Instead, I smile at her. She has light blonde hair, and a small frame. I think her name was Ms. Zumph. 

She smiles back, unaware that I'd rather be anywhere else. "Sorry to pull you out of class."

I brush a bit of my hair behind my ear. "It's alright. Is something wrong?"

Immediately she shakes her head and waves her hands. "No, haha, sorry if it seemed that way. We actually have a new student, and since you're originally from Italy, the principal figured you would be a good student to guide him around the school."

I look up at her. "I'm sorry, but I don't even speak Italian, only my brothers do." I may have picked up on it a little bit, but in no way do I speak it fluently. 

She smiles. "That's fine, he speaks English. We just figured you two could bond over the heritage."

We continue to walk, and I think about what this kid could be like. She seems nervous. I look through the glass walls of the front office to see a person sitting on the forest green couch, with lighter green dots on it. His elbows are on his knees, and his head is sitting on one hand while the other hand is hanging between his legs. The guy has dark black hair that seems to have a bit of curl to it, but still rather straight. In no way is his hair styled, and his clothes look as if he had spent the whole night out on the town. 

We walk in, and he looks up at us. His green eyes narrow in on me, a look of contempt pouring out of them. What the heck did I do? He's making me slightly nervous, but I've been stared down by scarier people.

I suck it up and hold out my hand with a smile. "My name is Lelia. I hope we can be friends." 

He stands up slowly, and ends up coming about eight inches taller than me, enough to where I have to slightly tilt my head back to look him in the eye. "I doubt that." He says as he shakes my hand. Oh, so you want to play that way. Just wait til you see how scary I can get.

Ms. Zumph clears her throat. "Ahem, Lelia, this is Alexander. Alexander, her family is originally from Italy, and she's a very sweet girl. I'm sure you'll be able to settle in very well here with her showing you around." She looks between us, obviously aware that he's trying to intimidate me, with his stance, his look, and the way his jaw is ticking. He's a bomb waiting to explode. 

Alexander doesn't say anything, and instead leans over to pick up his bag, which was leaning against his leg before he stood up. He is tense, that's obvious. 

I look at the administrator and give her a smile. "May I talk to you privately for a moment?" I ask, no trace of the irritation I feel coming out. 

She smiles, almost like she's relieved. "Yes, of course. Give us one moment Alexander." She gestures for him to go out the glass doors. He scoffs, then walks out and leans against a post. 

I turn to her, still giving her a smile. "Is there anything I need to know about him? Like a reason as to why he's such a cold and angry person?" Not to mention broody and unfriendly.

She lets out a small, exhausted laugh. "Well, he has been kicked out of schools before. He has a history of aggression. But he should behave now! His father has promised to keep him in line, and even said that if we have any issues to call him immediately. Apparently he's the only one who can stop his son." I sigh. 

"Anything else?" I ask, hoping he won't try to snap me like a twig just for looking at him wrong. 

She shakes her head and I glance at him. He's just standing there, head tilted back and eyes closed, yet his whole body is screaming I hate it here. Same buddy. 

"Alright, I'll keep an eye on him." She lights up and thanks me several times before letting me go out the doors. I cross my arms and tilt my head. He is so stiff. "Hey, so I know you've got this whole, I hate the world persona, but you're not the only one. This will be a whole lot easier if we get along. I'm going to have to stick with you for a while, because that's what's expected of me." His head turns to look at me, and I stare right back at him. He may be intimidating, but no way am I backing down to some punk. 

Alexander walks towards me, focusing on my face. It could be called a menacing look that he's got on his face. Honestly, I just want to slap him. "Listen, I'm not willing to play the good kid, so you can take your tour and shove it up your ass. I'll be skipping all of my classes anyways."

I sigh and rub my forehead. "The hard way it is." My eyes narrowing in on him. "You think you're the only one who has a hard life? Well get in line bud. There's a million other people with a harder life than you." His eyebrows rise, not much, and barely even noticeably, but they do. "You want to skip classes fine, but do it on your own time, not mine. While you're with me under my guidance, you follow the rules. Once we're done with this whole, the model student shows the new kid the ropes, shit, then you can do whatever you want."

His lip quirks, but he sneers at me instead of smiling. "Make me." 

I've had about enough of this. "Viticello."

It's one word, but he knows what it means. "What, what do they have to do with this?"

I turn to walk away. "Nothing, that's just my last name." I don't need to see his face to see the shock on it. Just the sound of his footsteps is enough to know that my message got across to him.