Not a v good chapter I’m afraid – bit on the short side and not v interesting .. sorry guys!  Will pick up soon though – promise! 

 Chapter 7

 Monday mornings are always hard, you spend the whole of Sunday dreading them, and for good reason too.  They are always awful, the time drags, you feel tired and you know that there is a long stretch until the weekend.

 Mondays for me were even worse than for a normal person.  Because the very first lesson of the day was double History.

 It wasn’t that I didn’t like History, I had nothing against the subject itself, in fact I was in the top group and had been predicted an A.  The only reason that I hated History was the fact that every single member of the 20 strong class was a Popular.  I was the only person that wasn’t in “the gang” and so had to sit by myself on a little table at the front of the class – right against the teacher’s desk.

 Even the wait before class was a nightmare, we had to line up outside against the corridor wall, waiting for Mrs Miston to let us in.

 On this particular occasion I had managed to get myself right next to Ben and Kelly, who were, as usual, making out for England.

 Why is it that some couples insist on being so intimate right in public? I mean do they love each other so much that they can’t keep their hands off each other?  Or is it just a huge fingers up to the rest of the world ... letting us all know that they have someone amazing and we are all miserable loners.

 Whatever the reason it was annoying.  I tried to block it out and stare at the year 7’s wall display on the Romans in Britain but all I could hear was the smacking of lips and the slobber of tongues. 

 I glanced quickly at them, ewwwww, how could she snog him?  And how could he snog her? Surely he’d end up with her lipstick so smudged over his face he’d look like one of those scary clowns in a horror movie.

 I was relieved when Mrs Miston turned up, and opening the door began to usher us into the room. 

 I was near the back of the queue and despite trying to move quickly, my usual desk at the front of the room had been taken over by a couple of Populars.

 Bollocks!

 What was I supposed to do now?  All around me people were rushing to get to their seats and I was just standing there – a sad and useless loner with my folder clung tight to my chest. 

 There was one spare desk at the back, next to a Popular girl who I’d never spoken to in my life. 

 I reluctantly shuffled over towards her, and putting my coat on to the back of the chair I went back to Mrs Miston’s desk to collect a work sheet for the lesson.

 As I moved back to my desk I noticed that the Popular girl had struck up a conversation with another Popular who was about to sit on the other side of my space.

 “Oh no, you don’t want to sit there,” she was saying, “Kim is sitting there!”

 My stomach plunged into my shoes.  I was hurt! I couldn’t deny it, no matter how hard I tried not to let them get to me words like that hurt. 

 I stood behind them, my face glowing red, turning round the Popular girl saw me and realised immediately that I had heard what she had said.

 She gave a little laugh, “only a joke Kim,” she said lightly.

 I spent the rest of the lesson hiding in my textbook, trying desperately hard to pay attention … but my mind was elsewhere.

 I was glad when it was all over.

 That was until my eyes glanced out of the window and I noticed the torrential rain that was sweeping across the playground.

 That only meant one thing – wet break!

 Wet breaks were every kid’s nightmare! For some reason teachers had a thing about not letting people go out and run around in the rain, instead everyone had to be shut in their form rooms.  It was usually a time for the kids to go mad – chairs would be flung, the blackboards ruined and that was before they had even started the graffiti!

 It was the job of the Year 11 prefects to keep order, we were all split into pairs and given a wet room to look after.  Some people drew the short straw and found themselves dealing with Year 10s, kids only a year younger than themselves and completely unwilling to take orders, or if you were lucky, like me you got a year 7 classroom, the kids who were still slightly in awe of grownup 16 year olds.

 The only downside was that my class was in a mobile right at the other end of the school, and as wet rooms usually equalled rain I usually got soaked getting there!

 I shared my wet room class with Simon.

 At the time that had seemed like a good idea, I mean I’d always got on well with him, but after the Valentines fiasco I had started to feel myself being slightly wary around him. 

So it was rather reluctantly that I dragged myself into my wet class.

 He was sitting on one of the desks at the back of the room, his feet swinging and a huge smile across his face.

 “How was your morning?”

 “Shit,” I replied simply.

 “Why?”

 “Double history.”

 He nodded in sympathy, every one of my friends knew that I hated this lesson and so no more needed to be said.

 “How was your morning?”

 “It just got better,” he smiled at me again and I blushed.

 Ignoring the question I changed the subject, “how are the little darlings?”

 “Well behaved so far, think we are in for a pretty easy duty.”

 I breathed a sigh of relief, may be I’d be able to finish the French assignment that I was meant to hand in tomorrow.

 “I like your hair when it’s wet.” He announced suddenly.

 I consciously ran a finger through the strands of wet hair that clung around my face.  I had run straight from history to the mobile and had been caught in the rain shower.

 “Yeah, very attractive,” I said sarcastically.

 “No, seriously,” he said, reaching out a hand and touching it hesitantly, “its sexy.”

 I blushed again – where had this sudden flirting come from?  It hadn’t been there a few months ago, I was sure of it.

 I looked at him in interest.  He still looked the same – may be he had grown a few inches since last time I had looked at him properly – but he was still Simon, I couldn’t possibly ever find him attractive … could I?

 I guess he was kind of cute, with his sandy coloured hair, green eyes and a slightly freckled nose and he was a sweet person too – one of those guys that you know would look after you properly.

 May be I did like him.

 I didn’t flinch when he squeezed closer on the table next to me and when his arm brushed against mine and he smiled, maybe my tummy did flip a little bit.

 I swallowed hard and started trying to think of something funny to say, I’d never been stuck for things to say to Simon before, we usually chatted away like anything, but now that I had had let my mind think of him in a different way my mouth seemed to have clamped itself shut.

 I was also somewhat cursing myself for being so hypocritical, only a few days before I had been mad at my friends for suggesting that something was going on between me and Simon, and now here I was, practically sat right on top of him, thinking that maybe there was a chance that I liked him too.

 But then why shouldn’t I like him? He was a guy, I was a girl, we liked each other, he was smart and good looking, plus I was 16 and had never been in a serious relationship, maybe it was time that I found myself one.

 Clearing my throat slightly I began to speak.

 “You smell nice today,”

 I wasn’t sure if that was good or not.  Flirting had never been my strong point, in fact before this moment I hadn’t even really tried it before.

 I glanced at him, and he was smiling.  Now that had to be a good sign.

 “Kim?” he asked.

 “Yep,”

 I darent look at him for fear that I would turn all red and blotchy like I usually did when feeling nervous.

 “Will you come to the Winter dance with me?”

 This time my stomach definitely flipped over, in fact it gave a huge somersault and landed skew whiff back where it came from.

 That was it then – I obviously fancied him, and who was I to argue with what my body was telling me.

 “I’d love to.”