It was the middle of April, the middle of the school year. You had just moved from New York to Georgia, and an into a school called Masonville High School.

As you were walking in the hallways everyone gave you looks. When going to your first class someone bumped into you. You almost fell, then you looked up. You saw a group of jocks, most likely the popular guys. The one that bumped into you was Brick Armstrong.

“My bad.” He smirked and kept walking, not looking back at you. He clearly didn’t mean it. His friends were behind him, laughing.