TWO

The school is just down the street, making it easier for me to walk without wasting gas and money. The roads are always busy on Mondays, and once the walk sign appears, I rush towards the school and to the first period, English Literature.

I passed each student down the hall like a maze, avoiding anybody in my way, and no one noticed me. I was no one, a lonely, outcasted girl who just wanted to get through my senior year in high school. Entering the classroom, the first one to arrive, I see Miss. Walker sits at her desk, reading the journals the class had turned in last week. Miss Walker is a young woman in her mid-twenties with short strawberry blonde hair and honey brown eyes. The boys in her class love her because they check her out. Perverts.

I know her as Jordan because she's close friends with Athena and Ares, and she is the same age, but at school, I have to call her Miss Walker. There are no romantic feelings between her and my brother, but I get the sense she likes him secretly. They are best friends. Ares sees her as one of the guys. Before, she looked and dressed like one but now.

I can't lie; the woman is beautiful in her unique way. Tall, slim, and having a badass chick attitude, the guy in here love it. Only when she is off-campus, she's Jordan Walker, but on campus, she's Miss. Walker. I knew her because she was the same age as Ares. They went to the same elementary through high school together, and my brother told me she was one of the guys because she lived with men; four older brothers and a widowed dad.

She acted and hung out with the guys, not caring what others thought. Other guys never dare touch her because the men in her family and no women wanted to mess with her - well, you all know what I mean. She can kick their asses the minute they open their mouths. That's what I love about her. She never cared about what people thought of her. She does what she thinks best.

During middle school, she would hang out at our house playing video games or playing basketball at the nearby park. Jordan was always welcome; now, she sometimes comes to visit; she was there during our parents' funeral, and her family gave their condolences. When Ares and I were separated from Jack Walker, we called him Big Jack, Jordan's dad, a family friend, wanted to take us in, but his hands were already full raising five children of his own, and taking us would be chaos. We didn't want to be a burden to the Walkers.

Jordan sees me, and her lips curl into a smile. "Morning, Effie."

"Morning," I smile back.

It's weird to have someone you have known for a long time as your English teacher.

"I read your journal," she starts to say before I can get to my seat. I freeze. I look at her as she folds her hands together and rests her head on it, staring back at me.

I gulp.

When she makes that face, I can't hide anymore. She sometimes gets scared but is not at the same level as Athena when she looks.

"I'm sorry," I plead with guilt in my low tone of voice. "I couldn't write what you assigned."

Jordan shuts the composition notebook as our journal entries. "Look, I'll let it slide just this once because I know you, and you've been going through a lot. But, I was hoping this topic would make you open up and express yourself. That is why doing journal entries are for writing down your thoughts and feelings."

"I'm sorry," apologizing again, looking down to the floor.

I heard Jordan sigh handing me my journal. "I'm going to give you until the end of the year to answer the topic; otherwise, you will fail my class and won't graduate. And I can't have that. This assignment will be your extra credit."

That seems fair.

"Okay," I say, walking down the aisle and heading to my desk.

"I'm not scolding you, but it's your last year here, and college is going to be harder, and the professors are much tougher than they look."

"I understand."

"Good," Jordan smiles. "Go on and take your seat."

I nod and look down at my journal, opening to the page where I read the topic question:

What would I most like to change about my life?

Now, what kind of question is that?

I can't answer that question for her to read when she already knows. What do I want to change about my life? That I've never been born so my parents would be alive and could raise my older siblings as planned.

I couldn't reply to the subject and left the page blank before turning it in. With a light scold, Jordan has given me the whole year to come up with an answer, or I won't leave this hell hole. I'll be stuck attending summer school while everyone has the best time of their life.

As I made my way towards the back of the class, I halted. There, sitting on top of my desk, was something that made me groan. Sitting there with her nasty ass was Paris Blake, one of the most popular girls in school and the biggest bitch in town. She brags about her parents and their wealth and the things she buys using their credit cards. At school, she hangs out with the other cool kids, especially one whose name I don't remember, but I've heard this girl be called the most beautiful girl in school.

Paris is sitting at my desk as if nobody sits there. I sit there. I wanted to yell at her to get off, but I couldn't. She's talking to some boys who catch my attention. It didn't bother me that they were in my class, just that Paris made herself in a comfortable spot with her ass on my desk like it didn't matter to her. I avert my eyes back on the two students as I gaze at one of them, with whom I sought to be familiar.

Maybe they are from another class who waltz themselves like they are wrong.

I see that there are twins: replica, identical twins, only the difference is the hair; one I know has his hair in a ponytail instead of a bun. It was a slick back undercut shaved on the sides, and the other has a similar look, but his hair is a bit shorter with a clean frontal hair line-up cut. Both have dark hair, and I couldn't make out the eyes because they were looking the other way, but I saw one from the other guy. My guess is his brother has blue eyes too. They wear the same clothes. Only the one with long hair has a white tee v-neck that inflates his body as it shapes the outline of his muscles, while the other wore a leather jacket. Both boys were huge compared to my small frame and 200 pounds of muscle. Are they even high school students

Wait, correct that - why are Jason Mamoa and Dwayne Johnson even doing here?

And they are two of my favorite actors. I could feel like I'm dreaming, and I guess you are wondering like a chick who wears black has a thing for sexy buff Samoan guys. I think people have something that not most people do.

No high school boy can look this good and packed with everything girls dreamed of being with.

I glanced at his ponytail and started to remember his name, Logan. I recognized him the moment I found him talking to Paris. He's not the kind of guy I usually fantasize about. The only thing that captivates me is his beautiful eyes that pop out more than his tan skin. As his back was facing my way, I suddenly felt a gust of invisible wind blowing flower petals as he slightly turned his head, creating an onsite movie scene. This sort of scene seems irrational and possible, but I see it loud and clear through my eyes. Mom had told me about her first encounter with dad, she saw a divine light shining upon him, and it made her swoon. I wasn't sure how that happens, but she said it is the feeling of having someone you like. I feel electrified by his eyes, and I can see myself swimming in them as if I'm on vacation in Hawaii, which I would love to travel to.

This theory my mother came up with didn't make sense because I was only four, so I was too young to understand the word "like" to someone I didn't even know.

Realizing my place, I shook my head, erased these inappropriate thoughts, and inhaled.

I didn't want to stand there for the whole period and approached my desk. I duck my head and hold behind Paris while she makes flirtatious jokes and brags about how wealthy her parents are. I swiftly make my way like a ninja hiding my aura. The twins notice my presence, caught like a jailer escaping prison, and tilt their bodies to the side of Paris as she talks and looks behind her at me.

"Um...hello?" She smacks her lips. "Are you two listening?"

"There is someone behind you," says the one with the shorter hair.

I watch Paris shift her body around, let out a yelp, and then scowl. "Shit! God, don't sneak up on me like that," holding her hand over her heart.

"Y-your in my seat," I say in a stuttering whisper.

"And can you speak up?" She says with annoyance in her tone. "It's like talking to a fucking wall."

We both heard Miss. When she cussed, Walker cleared her throat loud enough for the whole class, especially Paris. She groaned.

"I-I...you're in the m-my seat," I stammer, repeating what I said.

"W-w-well, can you wait," Paris mocked me like I had a lisp? She turns her body around. "People are talking here, so anyways..."

I heard a few snickers from the students who heard Paris insult me. I put my hand in front and squeeze them tight as I close my eyes to make it all go away.

This day could not get any worse.

"Hey," I wince at the sound of a husky voice as a desk scoots back. I looked up through my hair and saw the guy with the ponytail standing up. "This your seat?"

I glanced at him looking dumbfounded, when he asked me a question. I nod my head in response.

Logan looks at Paris, who seems to be enjoying his stare. "Get off her seat."

"Why bother? She's just a nobody," Paris leans forward, showing her cleavage. "But I'm a somebody, definitely a somebody."

"Just get off so she can sit down," his voice seems annoyed and not affected by the way Paris expresses herself with her seductive approach.

"Come on, baby," Paris purrs. "She's not important. That girl is nothing. People call her the girl from that horror film - The Ring."

"Why?" Said the other twin.

"Because have you seen how she looks?" thumbing behind her, pointing at me. "Who dresses all black as if someone died here. And also because she killed her parents," Paris laughs hard, with some snickering heard while others ignore her comment.

"Ms. Blake," Jordan slammed her hand on her desk, glaring at Paris. "May I remind you to respect your classmates and not make false remarks about their personal life just to be used for entertainment."

"All I'm saying is true," she shrugs, not caring about what she said. "She's cursed. Her name doesn't even match her whole get-up." Paris flips her hair back.

"Enough!" Jordan demands. Although I'm her student and a close friend, she doesn't like the idea of anyone bullying me. "You go straight to the principal's office and explain why you are there."

"But-"

"No, but's. Go," Jordan says firmly and points to the door.

Paris grunts loudly and kicks off my desk as she glares at me. "You are so going to get it, emo bitch," she mutters a growl, then shoves me, grabs her bag, and heads out the door. I see that the twins watch her ass move, and I inwardly groan. The bell rings. The bell is a wake-up call as I gaze at Logan, his eyes are staring back at me, and I know at that moment something has changed. My life will no longer be accessible and at peace, and Logan being in my business has somehow cracked the invisible wall I've created to keep people out. Somehow, Logan is different, and I am too scared even to admit there is someone who could bring me out from these walls.

Definity is too scared to admit it.

"Okay, class, take your seats," Jordan ordered, making everyone inside her class sit at their desk. "And before we get started, I would like to introduce you to two new students from Hawaii."

I hit my head on my desk and let out a groan.

Kuya - older brother or cousin or friend or someone older than you who is male.

Ate (pronounce A-te-h) - an older sister, cousin, friend, or someone older than you who is female.

I know it has the exact spelling as ate, but that is how they spell it in the Philippines.