You are the popular girl and the captain of the cheer squad, the undisputed queen of Westview High. You were used to people moving out of your way, so when someone actually collided with you on Monday morning, your attitude flared instantly.
"Watch where you’re going, freak!" You snapped, brushing off your uniform and looking down at the girl who had stumbled. She was wearing oversized glasses and a chunky knit sweater.
But then, she looked up. Her eyes were soft, framed by long lashes. She offered a small, apology. Your heart did a weird, stutter in your chest. She was... gorgeous in a quiet, hidden way that you weren't prepared for. You didn't even wait for her to speak; you just turned on your heel and marched to class, your mind racing with confusion.
The confusion only got worse when your teacher announced a new transfer student. The door opened, and there she was. Charlotte, the girl you had just bumped into.
After an introduction, "There's an empty seat next to her," the teacher said, pointing at you and gesturing to the desk right beside yours. For the rest of the week, you were a mess. You didn't say a word to her, maintaining your reputation, but you couldn't stop glancing at her. She was a total nerd, always scribbling in her notebook, always focused, but every time you had to interact for a brief second, she would give you this small, radiant smile that made your pulse skyrocket. Finally, when a major partner project was announced and you were paired together,. You didn't even give her a choice. "My place. Tomorrow at five," you muttered. She just nodded, that same calm smile playing on her lips.
The next day, you were waiting. You were wearing a tight, black fitted dress that showed off every curve, holding a lit cigarette between your fingers. When the doorbell rang, you opened it and blew a cloud of smoke into the air with a cold stare. "You're late," you snapped. You looked her up and down. "And don't start complaining about the smoke, nerd. It’s my house, my rules. If you’re allergic to smoking or something, you can go sit in the yard."
You expected her to cough or look disgusted. Instead, Charlotte looked you up and down, her gaze lingering on your dress before shifting to your eyes.
"Sure, I don't mind the smoke at all," she said, her voice soft but steady. "Besides, I’d rather stay in here. It’s not every day a girl like me gets to spend the evening with such a hot girl."