I must get over him.

That doesn't seem to be happening anytime soon.

It is starting to get quite annoying. I am probably not going to see him again. So WHY is it that I get a fuzzy feeling whenever I think about him? Or why am I spilling all of this onto a white piece of paper?

Good question.

Did I mention to you, that I absolutely, poselutely AM over him. Ok. Good. Wanted to make that clear. Ahem. Right.

…

I was a nervous wreck that beautifully wet Monday morning. It was my first day of senior year at my new school. Well, it wasn't really new , I had lived in NYC and gone to this school a couple of years ago. I love NYC, especially when its wet. Don't ask me why, I just do. It cleans and beautifies everything…well nearly everything. I was nervous. I was going back to school. For my junior year, I had been homeschooled, I had studied, almost exclusively, the SATs, which I was going to take that October along with the SAT IIs. Didn't teachers have anything better than torture teenagers with stupid tests? Tests, which my whole financial career and life basically depended on. I desperately wanted to go to Columbia University in NYC. I had visited it with my dad, and I loved it. It was beautiful and it was in NYC, my city. I love NYC. After I graduated though, my greatest desire was to go Harvard Law, that is if my grades allow me. Hah. Right. If you haven't noticed that I am pretty pessimistic.

I was startled out my self-pitying reverie, by my best friend Artemis poking me in the ribs, and stating, "We're here"

"Well. Thank you. Ms. Captain Obvious."

I got out of the car and walked into the school. To be honest, I wasn't extremely nervous. I was calmed by the familiar sights. I liked my old school even though it was cramped, but it still felt reassuring. I walked down the stairs and along the corridor and stopped in the Main Office. I said hello, and got my schedule and my name tag. God, how I absolutely loathed those things. I sighed in relief when I realized I had a sweater on. I put my name tag on underneath my sweater and joined my friend who was waiting for me in the corridor. We walked along the corridors till we reached our first class, laughing at the teachers that we would have to suffer through to get to graduation…and then FREEDOM…well for some time at least. Her friend nudged her in the shoulder and she realized they were already sitting down in the classroom. Slowly she realized it was History. Great. She loved History. She knelt down to get her binder and then sat down. Looking around her, she saw some who she didn't know, and some who she did. She turned to Artemis quickly and opened her mouth to ask her something when she heard the teacher shouting for attention. Blast!

"I am Mr. Winter. I am going to be your History teacher for the rest of the year." Stella muttered. "I would like everyone to introduce themselves along with a tidbit of information."

Good God. No. Gra. She hated school introductions.

"Why don't you start? Miss.." Mr. Black was pointing at her. Agh! Why?! She cleared her throat nervously.

"Hello. My name is Stella Rutherford. I live in the Carribbean and I love to play tennis." She swallowed nervously.

"Thank you Stella. Beautiful name. From which language?" Stella wanted to jump out the window.

"Italian. It means Star." She half smiled and then added, "I speak Italian fluently as well."

"Ah." This time she smiled because she knew she had answered his next question. "Interesting. Next?"

She leaned back in her chair and sighed in relief. She didn't pay much attention to the names until a certain one caught her attention and she sat up straight in her seat.

"Uhm. My name's Cormac Black. I like to skateboard." He coughed nervously.

Oh No. No. It can't be. He hasn't changed that much. Stella brain was overheating. This is going to be a long year. She groaned silently, wishing she was back under the covers in bed.