• It had started like any other day. Isn't that a worn out way to start a story? Truthfully, it wasn't going to be like any other day anyway. I had just moved to Highland, Massachusetts the day before. I was the new girl. Unknowing whether I was going to make a whole lot of friends, or get shoved into a trashcan. I was like any other ordinary girl. My long red hair hung from two braids on the side of my head. My bright blue eyes shone from beneath my coke bottle glasses. OK, maybe I wasn't like the other girls. I was a dork. So back to that day, it didn't start like any other day. I shoved my hips into the skirt of my new uniform. Despite my dorkiness, I had budded, and was almost fully matured. I had tripped and fallen down the stairs, my usual clumsiness getting the better of me. I entered the school and, thankfully, went almost totally ignored for the entire day. I suppose, the real story starts after school, or before school to the night class. The school here was always running, and it was a boarding school for boys and girls, though the boys and girls dorms were on opposite sides of the building, and both of them separate from those of the
    night class. I had brought everything I needed for my dorm room, or so I thought. I had forgotten my most prized possession; my laptop. I sat on the steps of the school after classes for the day had ended, waiting for my mom and her beat up pickup truck. Then I saw them; The night class. They all seemed so beautiful in the light of the setting sun, though I suppose anyone would.
    They giggled and talked as they went down the hall, a few casting curious glances at me outside on the steps. Two in particular were almost staring at me.One was a shy looking boy. He was pale as a ghost, and his fluorescent green eyes shone out from beneath his shroud of brown hair.
    The other was a beautiful girl. The dream of every male on the east coast, her body was that of a goddess. Her black hair flowed off her head like an onyx waterfall. She had a small gardening hat covering the top of her head. Her eyes were a vibrant violet, obviously contacts, though the suited her perfectly. The boy seemed to utter something to the girl, who shook her head violently. He seemed to plead with her for a moment, before turning straight for the door behind me. I turned towards the bottom of the steps, so he wouldn't think I was staring. He walked through the doors, and stood right behind me. I turned to look up at him, looking into his emerald eyes. They were almost mesmerizing. I took me a moment to realize that he had spoken.
    "Hey, aren't you part of the day class?" He asked. His green eyes searched my face, as if looking for something. "Day class has dismissed, you know that, right?"
    "Yeah, I know. I'm waiting for my Mom. I left my laptop at home, and she's bringing it to me." I stated back.
    "Well, then, let me introduce myself. My name is Al, Al Lioncourt. It's very nice to meet you, Anna West."
    I started at the sound of my name, "How did you know my name?"
    He stopped for a moment, and stuttered, "Umm, I read the luggage tags on your suitcase."
    "Oh...." I replied. That was strange.
    The girl he had been walking with was standing impatiently in the hall. Her foot was tapping, and her nose was wrinkled in an expression of annoyance. Even irritated, her face could have made even Aphrodite jealous. She turned and walked towards the door, opening it.
    "Al, we're going to be late. Mr. Gardener will have our heads if we're tardy again." She chirped. Her voice flowed like honey, sweet and graceful. It was amazing that bees weren't attacking her.
    "In a minute, Marcy. I'd like you to meet my new acquaintance, Anna West. Anna, this is Marcy Delenore." He said, slinging his arm over her shoulder, smiling a goofy smile.
    "You know I hate it when you call me that. My name is Marcelle Delenore, and don't you forget it, you bloody idiot." She turned to me, "Nice to meet you, Anna, but we really must be going." She turned back to the door, half dragging Al with her.
    "Hey, was that supposed to be a pun, Marcy?" He guffawed as they walked back inside.
    Before she was totally gone from sight, she gave me a smile that would have made angels cry. Then she was gone. As my Mom pulled up in her beat up truck, I checked my suitcase. There were no luggage tags on it.