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Bailee

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“Excuse me, coming through!”

My voice echoed throughout the smelly hallways of high school trying to pass students whom stood around gossiping about the latest news of their so-called life. Gosh, couldn’t they find another place to gossip then in the hallway? It’s very difficult to maneuver around them if they are just simply standing there in the middle of the hallway. Don’t they get that a hallway is like a street? If one does not want to get hit by cars, so then one does not go in the middle of the street. Geez! Common sense people, use it for once in your lifetime! Might make you live longer.

A handful of glares and snarls were what I got from my outburst to go passed them. Whatever, it’s not like I don’t get that everyday to begin with. Nothing new. I pushed it away as I head off towards English class. Last period of the day, thank goodness! The only downfall is I have to go to work, right after school. Which on the bright side, work isn’t all that bad. I get to take my time minding my own business.

Well, if Julian doesn’t happen to bother me.

I rolled my hazel eyes tinted with light blue. Julian. That boy can not take a hint. He is the most annoying boy, I have ever met in my entire life. And he is actually the only boy who has ever talked to me, to begin with. We grew up living in the same area –never bumping into each other. Until, school. We were in the same class. It was pretty obvious; he wanted to be friends. I, on the other hand, didn’t fully understand this so-called word “friend” –don’t get me wrong, I understood the definition of the word, but other than that. No. I just don’t get it. Therefore, I never officially said that we were friends.

But, in his tiny brain, he believed we were friends. I never could run away from him throughout the school years. Now, here we were seniors in high school. One more year, and then I will go to my dream college – Harvard University.

“Bailee!” I heard a voice coming behind me. I was frozen in my spot. Speak of the devil, and he shall appear … wait, I didn’t say his name … maybe thinking and speaking do the same thing. Oh well.

“Hello, Julian,” I plastered a smile upon my lips, trying to act happy.

“I was calling your name, for a long time. You didn’t hear me?” he asked, standing with a notebook in his hand.

“Nope, I didn’t hear you. I was thinking.” Which isn’t a lie.

“Oh, of course. The one and only Bailee Nash is thinking. How could I not see that coming?” he asked, mostly to himself.

I let a small laugh. It was funny, nonetheless … doesn’t change that he is annoying.

“I know. It’s so unpredictable,” I replied, turning my back to him.

He came up to me trying to get my attention. “Wait, where are you going?” I had to look up at him.

Man, I was trying to give him the slip.

“I’m going to English class with Ms. Sprouts.”

“Oh, isn’t that interesting. I happen to be in that exact class, too. It must be a coincidence.”

Yeah, pure coincidence.

I kept on walking and he followed behind me. The classroom was only a few feet away. I stepped into the room. People were chatting with each other, not bothering to look up to see who was entering the room. I made my way to the front seat not worrying if anyone would sit there. Generally, people don’t like sitting up in the front of the classroom. Very unusual, I couldn’t think about not sitting up in the front. It was easier to focus and to see the board, nobody getting in the way to write down notes, well besides the teacher.

“Hi, Julian,” a high-pitch voice said, waving at him.

“Hello, Melissa,” he answered, waving back at her. He slid into the seat right behind me, placing his hands upon the desk.

“He said ‘hi’ to me,” she whispered to her friends, she was a few feet away from us. I rolled my hazel eyes. She was acting like she’s a fan girl and Julian was famous or something. Ridiculous.

“It seems like you have a fan,” I whispered over my shoulder, getting my notebook and book out.

“No, she was just being nice,” he replied, grinning.

I turned behind to gaze at him. “Right, did you not hear her giggling over your acknowledgement of her?”

“Yeah, I did. So, what?” he asked.

I let out a huff. “Then, it was not just being nice. She was fan-girling.”

He smirked. “How would you know that?”

“Trust me, I know when I see a girl fanning over someone,” I declared, my eyes gaze down to see if he was ready for the class. He had nothing out. Not prepared.

“Oh, really now. You do?” he asked, curiously. He was leaning more over his desk.

“Yeah, I do,” I clarified, turning back to sit properly in my seat.

“Wait, I’m not done-“

“Good-afternoon, class,” Ms. Sprouts called out, as she strolled into the room. She was wearing high heel boots, a long-brown skirt, and a sweater matching his skirt. Her blonde hair was short, not too short like a pixie cut, but came down to the middle of her neck. “I’m sorry, I am late. I was talking with one of the teachers-“

“Probably, flirting no doubt,” Julian whispered. I shook my head hearing it all.

“But, I’m here, nonetheless. Let’s begin,” she stated. She started walking around gazing out into the sea of students before her.

“I am hoping, all of you got the play, Midsummer Night’s Dream by William Shakespeare because we will start to read it.” She went over to pick up her book. I had gotten it since she first told us that we had to get it, and that was a very long time ago.

“Damn,” Julian cursed under his breath. What did I tell you? He was unprepared.

“I will be coming around to mark if you have your book, or play, with you. If you don’t, I’m taking some points off for lateness.”

“When did she say that we needed that book?” Julian asked.

“At the beginning of the semester, which was about three weeks ago.”

He rolled his eyes. “Like I can remember something like that.”

“Bailee Nash,” Ms. Sprouts came up to me. I held up my book to her.

“Good job,” she announced, not writing anything on her piece of paper.

Ms. Sprouts walked forward to Julian. “Julian Walters. Where is your book?”

“Well, you see,” he started saying, but gave up. “I forgot it.”

“I will have to take some points off, you happen to know.”

“Yes.”

“Alright,” she said, as she was writing down something on her piece of paper. She walked onto the next person behind him.

“Of course, you remembered. You are little Miss. Perfect. Always doing everything right,” he teased.

“Yes, I do,” I replied, grinning. I wasn’t going to lie and say I wasn’t. I stride to be perfect, and so far. I was doing an excellent job at it.

“I would love to see the day when you forget something, oh that will be an interesting day,” he declared, laughing.

“It will never happen,” I whispered under my breath. Julian didn’t seem to hear it. That’s what I was hoping for.

“Alright, class,” Ms. Sprouts called out, for the second time, “We will begin to read-“

“Wait, Ms. Sprouts! I have a question,” a voice popped up.

“Yes, Hannah,” Ms. Sprouts was holding her book in her hand waiting for her to ask away.

“I know this is completely off topic, but haven’t you heard the news?”

“What news, Hannah?” she asked, Ms. Sprouts is a teacher that is in a way like friends to some of these students. Therefore, Ms. Sprouts liked getting off of topics sometimes. It’s very annoying and aggravating in my book.

Hannah Reynolds was smiling as she felt everyone’s attention on her. She positioned herself to embrace her fellow-classmates to talk away. “There is going to be shooting stars this Friday night!”

Murmurs filled the room. “That is going to be so amazing!” one of Hannah’s friends replied.

“I wonder if you could wish on those stars?” a person asked.

“Oh,” she started up again, “you can, but I heard that you have to wish upon a specific star, for there is only one star that will grant your wish.”

Ridiculous. Something in the pit of my stomach was tickling me. I started laughing. All eyes were drawn to me. “What are you laughing at, Miss. Goodie Two-Shoes?” hissed Hannah. Her curly chestnut hair hung behind her seat, a beauty mark next to her right eye that were a beautiful green.

Hannah and I don’t see eye to eye. We have been enemies since the age of six. Not surprising, we were going to arguing over this fact.

“That is ridiculous. You are really going to wish upon a star, which is in fact; a meteoroid that is made up of sand and debris from the Solar System. It’s not a star. Not even close.”

“What do you know? Don’t you ever believe in that superstition?” Hannah spoke.

“Nope, I believe in hard valid evidence.”

“You are lost,” Hannah replied, my hands were turning into balls of fists.

“Well, why don’t we get back to what we were talking about,” Ms. Sprouts diverting our attention.

I turned back around into my seat feeling a little empty inside. I pushed the feeling away as I began writing down what Ms. Sprouts was saying.

****

My father was a hard-working man. He would come home from work, and take a nice long nap or watch T.V. to relax. Afterwards, he would go back to work. He believed in what he did. He told me that nobody can work too hard or can learn enough. In his lifetime, he went to four colleges. Each one were for different degrees: engineering, mathematics, psychology, and biology. He did his masters for mathematics making his career as a Professor at the University of Howard Bell.

I learned so much from him. I loved the information; he would give me as I listen to his knowledge. All went through one ear, and it never came out the other end. My brain digested it like it was food, taking in all the information. And one thing he stressed was learning a skill.

My father told me if I didn’t want to go to college. It was fine, but I had to learn a skill like carpentering, pluming, or working with wires. All those jobs, the world can not run out of those because everyone needs it in their house or that skill. Its just most people don’t learn to do it. Therefore, my father taught me to fix cars. Not really something most fathers teach their daughters, but it was fun. That became mostly our hobby fixing cars.

That is until, he had a heart attack and passed away a year ago.

Usually, we don’t talk about it. Mother can’t handle talking about him without shedding a tear of two. I don’t say a word to her about him. I don’t want to bring up the memories; they are just too powerful.

After a couple of months, I started looking into jobs. I knew my father would have wanted me to start making my own money, plus I knew mother needed help with Dad being gone. I found a job working at Tom and Ryan’s Repair Shop. Not the most, original name, but it was a good place to work at. Only if you don’t count, Julian working there.

“You’re insure. Don’t know what for. You’re turning heads when you walk through the door. Don’t need make-up to cover up. Being the way that you are is enough.”

“Julian, what are you listening!” I shrieked, I was underneath a Ford Mustang.

“What?” he asked, “I can’t hear you.”

No, dip. Sherlock. You are blasting the radio speakers off!

“Turn that music down, Julian! I can’t focus with it blaring into my ears!” I hissed, pulling out from under the car.

There he stood in his ripped jeans, white T-shirt with other stains, and a rap in his back pocket leaning up against the counter with the radio next to him. I would be lying if I said he was not attractive. His dark brown hair, almost black, was swooshed over to his right side. His dark brown eyes could melt a person from him just staring at them. He was tall and lean, had some muscle to him and he was very tan. Not bad for the eyes.

I shook my head, ignoring what I was thinking. “Julian,” I hissed, walking up to him.

He was grinning. I probably some grease on my face, however that wasn’t what the point was.

“Turn down the music! I can’t hear myself think!”

“Fine,” he answered, pressing the button turning the music completely off.

It was totally silent. “Yes, thank you! I can hear again!”

He rolled his eyes. “Stop being over dramatic, Bailee.”

“Me?” I asked, pointing to myself, “Over dramatic, please.”

I walked back over towards the car, went on the roller and finished what I was doing. That is until, I felt a nag at my leg. I looked over to see a pair of converse.

I pulled out from underneath the car to see Julian sitting on the ground.

“Yes?” I asked, trying to be patient with him. He was rubbing his hands together like he was going to say something important.

“I was wondering, Bailee, if you would like to come to my party on Friday?” he asked.
I rolled my eyes. This was the hundred time, he has asked me to hang out with him. Each time I have been saying no. I have no idea that he was going to ask again. Gosh.

“Julian, how many times do I have to tell you? No, thank you.”

“Come on, Bailee. We are friends, and we have yet to hang out.”

I ignored his statement. “Besides, I’m working on Friday, anyways,” I replied, about to go back under the car.

“No, you are not,” Julian said.

Stopping, I looked at him like he had four heads. “What? What do you mean, I’m not?”

“Tom is closing up shop on Friday. He is taking a small vacation,” Julian explained, with a sneaky grin. Tom is one of our bosses. We have two … kind of obvious from the name of the shop.

I glared at him. “You set this up.”

“Well,” he leaned forward, “I wouldn’t really say set up, but planned it. I guess I did.”
I bit my lip not knowing what to do. He was bluffing or telling the truth. And at this point, I couldn’t tell what it was.

I cursed under my breath. “Fine,” I grumbled, “I will go to your party.”

He was going to start cheering. “But,” I pointed my greasy finger at him, “I can change my mind, at any giving point.”

Julian nodded his head. “Okay, fair enough.”

He walked away from me, heading off towards another car that needed repairing.
I shook my head as I went back to work.

Sneaky bastard.

Notes

Here is the first chapter!
The next chapter is going to be in Louis' point of view.
It's going to be interesting. :D
I hope you enjoyed this chapter!