"Well what's wrong with it?" I ask Sister Louise, desperately seeking feedback on my essay on a poem which I failed.

"It just was not your best work, dear," she says, walking down the hall as Ashley and I try keep up behind her.

"But which part wasn't good?" I ask as she stops outside her door.

"Wren Sanchez, fourteen out of twenty is not a very bad mark. You did not fail, you just passed in fact. I just thought that your ideas were rather superficial. Instead of telling me about the poem, show it, expand on your arguments in your paragraphs, instead of just giving me an opinion, you need to back it up."

"Sister, I'm afraid you're telling me things I already know, to put it simply."

"Yes, Wren, to put it simply indeed," she says, unlocking her door, walking inside, "I don't imagine I may need another persuasive argument into changing your grade - which may I applaud your efforts on - I just want you to learn firsthand."

"But..." I stare back down at my lousy fourteen out of twenty. "But, I'm Wren."

The bell rings.

Home at last. The only place where I can flatter my efforts and have no one doubt how well I did on my essay, aka Sister Louise. Only it's not so "at last," when the one teacher you favour out of the whole school calls your essay ideas 'superficial.' Doesn't matter, I am determined to raise my grade whether it's from her or not. It was a darn good essay.

"Don't you think you're pushing it a little?" Ashley asks, as we try to stick together walking out of the jam packed afternoon hallway, "I got a thirteen."

"But that's just it, Ash. I can't get used to the feeling of only receiving a few higher marks than most people that attend our school, I mean, could you imagine? I study harder than 90% of these girls, and get the same passing? Ugh."

"I still wish I was you," she says. "On a happier note, we going to Pizza Palace today?"

I shield my eyes from the sun as I walk out the building, and I begin thinking of an excuse, "I can't," I cut off my sentence when I see a black Porsche on the opposite side of the road.

"Wren?"

Ashley's voice drowns out as my eyes fixate on a smiling, casually dressed Anthony across the street. He's wearing a white shirt, shorts, and a snapback...and he's holding a bouquet of roses.

"Dear God," I said, not taking my eyes off him.

"What?" Ash asks, trying to see what I see. "Whatever you do, make sure Sister doesn't hear that."

"I'll call you tonight," I said.

"Alright but please do, because I don't think I can get through this crap load of work without wanting to barf."

"Bye," we said in unison.

I walk fast across the street, my maroon red skirt breezing in the wind, causing goosebumps to appear on my skin. Thank goodness I wore my black knee high socks.

"Good afternoon malady." He bows playfully. "Looking good, catholic schoolgirl..." And he's staring at me again, smirking.

I'm smiling like an idiot, folding my arms. "How did you even know my school?"

"I have my ways."

"Well I didn't say yes." I motioned to the vehicle.

"Well you didn't say no either." He holds out the roses.

"You are not taking me out on a date."

"And why not?"

"Hello? Have you forgotten? I'm still sixteen, living in a fascist conservative jailhouse. Good luck getting through to my parents."

"At least let me take you home. Please, I came all this way."

He holds out the roses again. I take them from him and smell; they are beautiful.

"You're too kind. Just..." I turn around. "Please hurry before anyone sees."

"Sees me with you? Yeah you're right," his tone sarcastic, "I would hate for you to lose your reputation as an innocent schoolgirl by hanging out with me, a rock n roller. I guess we better get going before Sister has a fit about one of her students freely hanging out with another human being, after school time, I might add. We better get out of here."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make it sound like that," I said.

He smiles. "It's no big deal, I actually don't want to get recognized anyway."

He slowly grabs my face with his big hand, and starts stroking my cheek, placing his lips on mine without warning. Our lips move in sync as his other hand strokes the back of my thigh, grazing up my skirt, then giving my butt a small squeeze.

I'm taken back and break the kiss.

"What do you think you're doing?" I ask, shoving him away.

"Kissing you," he says without shame.

"And touching me. It...it was totally uncalled for. And inappropriate in an area like this."

He frowns a little and adds, "Hm, well then maybe we should go someplace private..." He wiggles his eyebrows.

I punch his arm trying not to smile, whilst opening the car door and letting myself in the passenger side, mainly just to hide myself from the scene without daring to look back. I now don't want to walk home. My cheeks are as red as the roses.

"Free your mind," he says as if he can read my mind, getting into the driver's seat and putting the key into ignition. "I hope I'm not that bad for you to be seen by people with."

I tuck a strand of lose hair behind my ear, my hair in a small ponytail today. "Sorry for snapping. It was just unexpected."

"Didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable, I'm the one who's sorry actually."

I avoid his gaze out of sheer embarrassment by looking out the window as the car moves forward. My first kiss, wow. Then it occurred to me that I'm doing the one thing that in kindergarten they always taught us not to do - getting in the car with strangers. I don't have much time to think about it as he snaps me out of my thoughts with conversation.

"So, tell me about yourself," he begins.

"What's there to know?"

"Come on, you told me you liked writing poetry. I admire a woman like that."

"Like what?"

"Creativity. It's enticing to me. Especially when I hear her talk about something that she's proud of and passionate about; It's like music to my ears. Of course I've known you for not even a day, but you just seem to be that type...I can't even put my finger on it, there's just something about you that I'm, might I say already fascinated, with."

I laugh. "Which is it? My sarcasm, or inability to accept defeat by putting up debates just so I'd get my way?"

"My point exactly, Wren. You just seem so much older to me. Wise beyond your years."

"Well," I turn around, facing him, even though he's eyes are concentrated on the road, "what have you got to say about yourself?"

"As a start, I write songs, I love nature, animals, and love making love," he says without pausing.

"Interesting..." I shift in my seat.

He smirks. "You know I don't mean making love as in just getting naked and under the covers, I can make love just by holding my partner's hand. For the most part it's the simple pleasures of the relationship I'd get my kick out of."

I nod. "Do you also get your kick out of kissing random girls?"

"If only it were that simple," he says with a half smile, "you are not random, cutie. Especially not after meeting you."

He slows down, unbuckling his seat belt.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"You know Wren, It's funny you mentioned - I got my kick out of kissing a pretty girl just then; you."

"Oh give me a break, I'm barley decent."

"That's bullshit, you're gorgeous. Plus that skirt...it's tempting. I can't control myself." I feel his eyes on the first undone button on my uniform shirt.

"I'm fat," I laugh.

"You're beautiful."

"Fat."

He leans in, placing another kiss on my delicate lips. I push his chest away lightly.

"Anthony," I say, a little irritated, "I thought you didn't want to make me uncomfortable."

"I don't. I was just..." He runs a hand through his hair. "I don't know. I'm sorry."

I can't help but wonder; is he used to getting whatever girl he wants, is that why he looks so taken back? It's not like I'm going to hand myself over to him that easily. I don't sell myself short, to anybody.

"Just please take me home."

He sighs for a moment, then starts the car back up again.

"Um, just down that street, on the right," I give him direction back to my house. "But actually, could you just drop me off here?"

I didn't want to tell him that my parents just might be concerned if I got into the car with a guy I barley knew, or even a friend of a guy who is friend's with my dad who barley or doesn't know him that well...I feel my mind twist.

"Are you sure?"

"I like the walk."

He begins slowing down the car near the sidewalk.

"Hey, call me if you change your mind."

I unbuckle my seat belt. "Well, thanks for the ride, and these," I hold up the roses, "you're sweet. But I gotta get home and stress out over six marks lost on my essay. Chow."

"Wait."

I internally sigh. "Yes?"

"Can I get one more kiss?"

I lean over and kiss his cheek for point two seconds, then get out before God knows where he'll touch me next, grabbing my bag and the roses, slamming the door shut.

I wonder how I'll walk through the door explaining this.

-

how are you all liking the story so far? Love you all.