Thanks for my four wonderful reviews! The fourth from my wee sister who forgot to sign out of my penname and into her own- grrrr! I should have explained a few things before I started. Yeah, I'm Scottish, which is why I'm setting all of my stories, well mostly, on Scottish people. Be proud to be what you are! For anyone reading this who lives in Florida, I just picked up the name of this town from a university website I was looking at in boredom. Please enjoy this second chapter as I have made it a lot longer for you four, because my first was a little too short! Please R&R, your comments DO mean a lot to me.

From Kirsty x

Engineering In the Works

Chapter Two

Marc Hudson growled to himself as he slouched from the room. He was a popular jock at Gainesville High School, and played football to the extreme. He went back to his trials, just in time for the picking, not telling any of his fellow footballers why Macdonald had called Marc into his room, he just muttered careers advice to them. They all nodded in understanding, as they'd all had the prep talk about which University was best for them.

Carla Macmillan was not enjoying her first day at Gainesville High. She stuck out from the crowd like a sore thumb although she wasn't wearing anything particularly distasteful. To make matters worse, her new headmaster, Macdonald, who didn't seem so bad at first had assigned her to work with some football kid on her first day. At least she'd get to meet someone, she just hopes he wasn't a Ned (Non-educated delinquent) or a stuck-up, rich, arrogant jock like in most of the American movies she had seen. 'This', she thought to herself, 'is going to be a long day.'

Soon, practice was over and Carla walked over to the bleachers and sat on the bottom step. A few guys glanced at her before they went into the showers because of two reasons. She wasn't a cheerleader and this was one of the first times a non-cheerleader had sat on the bleachers after their practices in a long time. The other reason was that she was a pretty girl, with her long brown hair and sparkling green eyes. She was wearing a light blue, cord mini-skirt and a tight, lilac T-shirt advertising Guinness, with the slogan, 'nice day for a Guinness' and pink slouch boots. She set her books down beside her and gazed out onto the field, wondering which of these muscular boys her new 'pupil' Marc Hudson was.

A few of the lads had surrounded Clara, but she was having none of it. Marc saw all the commotion on the bleachers and ran over. Clara saw him approach, as did the rest of the boys. Marc was their captain, and according to some kind of rules they'd made up one drunken night, the team had decided that the captain would get first dibs on any girl as he should feel fit unless she was already attached. The boys backed off and let Marc nearer her.

" Finally." She muttered, " are you Marc Hudson?"

" Who's wanting to know?" Marc asked.

She held out her hand, for him to shake. "Clara Macmillan. Your new tutor."

He shook her hand, but in complete embarrassment. Some of the guys called out 'careers advice my ass', as Clara picked up her books and walked with Marc off the field.

" No offence, but I don't want a tutor. I'm doing okay."

She picked a file from her stack she held in her arms. 'God this girl was organised, she better not be a geek' he thought as he watched her pull a piece of paper from the file.

" If you are Marc James Hudson, of 29 Maple Avenue, Gainesville, born on the 31st of October 1987, then I'm afraid you have a tutor whether you like it or not." She said, matter-of-factly. " Give me that." He said to Clara and she handed him over the piece of paper but not without dropping some of her folders at the same time.

He helped her up with her folders as she bent down to retrieve them from the moist playing field. " Why don't you get a locker?" he asked her while holding up her Maths folder.

"I already have one. Do you know how many teachers give out work on the first day?" she asked him. When he shook his head she continued, " Every single damn one."

He looked at her curiously.

" What?" she asked, " What the hell are you staring at?" She stared right back at him. He was tall with a few muscles coming through his loose navy dragon shirt, worn with a plain white T-shirt underneath. He wore khaki trousers and skater trainers. What he wore was unexpected, because she didn't think a jock would wear entirely cool skater clothes.

" You. Where are you from? You have an unreadable accent. No offence."

" None taken. I'm Scottish." She replied.

" From the bonnie, bonnie banks of Loch Lomand?"

" You know that song?"

" Yeah. My gran used to sing it."

" She was Scottish?"

" Yeah." " Know any other Scottish tunes?" " Um, no, so where in Scotland are you from?" " Why are you so interested?" " I'm just curious." " Glasgow. Why did all those guys part the crowd when you came over." He flushed. " I'm the captain for the new team, so, well," it was embarrassing but somehow he found it really easy to talk to Clara, she was unlike any of the girls he knew.

" That's so weird." She laughed as they walked down the street from the school.

" You don't have a problem with it?"

" Nah. I guess you guys each have your moments." She giggled. It was a nice, clear, girlie laugh, Marc didn't know what to think as he had never described anyone's laugh before as 'nice'.

Soon, the laughter was over as they had arrived at the nearest town library. They found a small four-person desk behind an enormous shelf containing celebrity biographies. Clara found herself gazing at the shelf in wonder as she picked out several with her eyes that were by British celebrities.

" What are you looking at?" Marc asked her quietly.

" The autobiographies. There are so many Scottish ones. Sharleen Spitteri, singer. Ian Banks, crime fiction writer. Lulu, singer. Edwin Morgan, national poet."

" You certainly know your stuff." He said noticing that 'singer' and 'poet' were not printed beside the names like she had read them.

" Maybe. Now, which one do you want to study first?" she whispered.

" Why are you whispering."

" It's a library."

" Oh, yeah, I forgot that for a moment." He said truthfully, although Clara's eyes were glittering with laughter.

One hour later, they had covered the first topic of Maths, with Clara's 'Higher' knowledge from her previous year in Scotland, 'the straight line'.

"I never really understood gradients last year," Marc commented, "thanks."

" That's what I'm here for."

" I know." Their eyes met across the table and both of their cheeks flushed. Clara looked away first and started to gather up her books. Marc did the same, but he couldn't help noticing Clara's slightly shaking hands.

" Are you okay?" he asked and put his hand on her arm. She shivered.

" I'm okay. Just a little cold. Surprising really, because Florida is about three or four times the usual temperature in Scotland."

" Maybe you have a temperature?" he asked, concerned.

" Nah. I think I'll just wear trousers tomorrow. I'm missing my Baggies."

" You wear Baggies?" he asked, surprised, because she looked like a prep.

" Yeah. I kinda feel lost without them. I know that's strange for clothes, but they're from Flip, my favourite skater shop. Have you heard of it?"

" There's one in Orlando Mall, just outside Gainesville. My sister loves that shop. I've been dragged in there at least twenty times." He replied.

" Find anything you like?"

" My shirt." He pointed to the one he was wearing and smiled.

Clara checked her watch; it was 4.30pm. " Oh, bollocks, I have to get home." She rushed.

" I'll drive you home if you want."

" That would be great thanks. I'm supposed to look after my little sister after my mum starts work, which is in half an hour."

" It's cool. I guess we have something in common now." He suggested.

She grinned. " Yeah? And what's that?"

" Little sisters."

" Suppose so." They walked back to school quickly, to the car park and jumped into Marc's blue Sudan. " Nice car!" Clara commented.

" It's old, I'm just glad it still goes."

He pushed in a tape of his latest favourite rock band, which were European. To his ultimate surprise, Clara started singing along to the end of the song where the chorus was repeated, 'you held the world in you arm tonight, and what if you had the world in your arms."

Marc just stared at her, he didn't think she would have heard of them because they weren't popular yet in America, since he had been sent this from his penpal of seven years, Matthew.

She noticed him staring and chose to ignore it though she couldn't help making one small comment. " If you keep staring at me like that either with wind will change or you'll crash." He faced back to the road just in time to see a red light.

" Do you want me to drive round in circles or are you going to direct me to your house?" he retorted.

" Take a left here." She replied.

She gave him the rest of the directions until they arrived at her front door. Marc gave the two storey house a quick once over with his eyes. " Do you see anything appealing?" Clara asked.

" Cool garden." He commented. The removal van was parked in their driveway and there were boxes all over their front lawn.

" I know." She took off her seatbelt and leant over to open her door when Marc put his hand on her arm for the second time that hour. This time it had more effect on her than the last, but she didn't show it as she knew a popular boy like this would likely be attached to some cheerleader on the squad.

She turned round as Marc asked her a question. " Would you like to hang out with my friend and me tomorrow?"

Clara smiled inside. " Yeah, that would be great." She stepped out of the car and shut the door behind her. The window was still open on her side though.

" Do you want me to pick you up tomorrow morning?" he called though it.

" If you want."

" I'll come by here at eight, if that's okay with you?"

" That's fine. See you then. Bye!" she called and waved as he drove away along the street.

Her mother was unpacking boxes in the compact kitchen when Clara walked in. " Hey darling, how was your first day?"

Clara grinned happily and started to pick up a box of her belongings from the floor after she put her books on top. " It was good actually."

" Who was that who dropped you home?"

" Marc, my new 'pupil'." Clara used her fingers to suggest inverted commas.

" They set you up with someone didn't they," she nodded. " I told you you'd be smarter than a lot of those kids."

" Some." Her mother emptied the last box and started up the stairs.

" I'm just going to have a quick shower before I go, okay Clara? Katie is out in the back garden playing in her new sandpit with her new friend from next-door. There's pizza in the freezer for supper and there's some leek and tattie soup already made on the stove." She called as Clara lifted up the pot lid and smelt her favourite food.

" That's fine mum. I'm just going to put some stuff in my room, then I'll start on supper."

Clara trudged upstairs after her mother and took a left (instead of a right into her mothers' room) in to her balcony room. The removers had put in her bed, a dresser and her clothes rail that morning, and Clara dumped her stuff down onto her newly made up bed by her mum. She changed into shorts and T-shirt and ran down stairs to join her sister in the garden. She took a book from a box and her portable stereo. She plugged it into the wall with a long lead and walked out to the garden with it.

Her sister was in the new sandpit with a small boy who looked the same age. Clara plopped herself down on a deck chair that had obviously seated her mother less than an hour ago, hence the luke- warm cup of milky tea on the ground beside it. She took out her book, 'Memoirs of a Geisha' by Arthur Golden, and began to read with Scottish band, Idlewild blaring 'you held the world in your arms' out of the speakers.

To be continued...