Back to the Dream Page
She stared at the massive building looming just in front of her. Three stories full of people she didn't know and didn't care to know. She didn't acknowledge her stepfather who was wishing her luck on her first day from where he sat in the car. She hated him for moving the family here, to a place she didn't and wouldn't call home. She just couldn't. Sure she understood the circumstances but to just pack up and leave everything behind so quickly… Tears fought to be set free but she refused to give in. After all, she was a transfer student here. Why give everyone more reason to start talking behind her back already? So she straightened up, clutched her books closely, and became one with the crowd of students that flowed into the building, ignoring her stepfather's good-bye.
She could hear everyone calling out to everyone else, lockers squeaking open and slamming shut, teachers and students all getting reacquainted after a summer away from each other. She looked at everyone and just as promptly, looked away to the walls instead, trying to find her locker in the midst of all the people there. She was so intent on looking for her number that it wasn't until she was on the floor, her books scattered about that she'd even realized she'd run into anybody. She tried to hide her embarrassment and the tittering going on around her as she bent to retrieve her belongings.
When the girl finally straightened, she found herself looking into a pair of deep brown eyes. "Here, you dropped this also."
She looked down and saw that he was holding another of her notebooks. "Uhh, yeah. Thanks," she mumbled, taking it back and trying to get away as quickly as she could.
"Hey wait up," the guy called.
She hesitated, wondering what else he could possibly have wanted and cursing her luck. She just wanted to be alone and definitely not in the presence of this guy. It'd been obvious enough in her first glimpse of him that he was popular, guessing by the number of people hanging with him. 'And not only popular but cute too,' she thought, recalling the cheerleader that had draped herself on him just before the collision.
"You're new here, aren't you?" he asked.
"Is it that obvious?" she asked, avoiding his eyes.
"Well, you did seem a little lost. Want me to show you to your locker?"
"No, that's okay. Really, I can find it on my own."
"Naw, I insist."
"That would be a big help actually. But only if you insist," she smiled shyly, finally looking up at him.
"Consider it done then. Let me get my stuff and I'll be right back." She watched as he returned to his group of friends, retrieved his backpack from the pile on the floor at their feet, said his good-byes and came trotting back. "So what's your locker number anyway?"
"1005."
"Hmm. That sounds familiar..." He led her past the stairs, to the right side of the building. "Well what do you know? I thought the number was familiar. This used to be my friend's locker."
"Really?" She looked up at him to see if he was just fooling her.
"I'm serious. This was his locker last year."
"What a coincidence."
"Sure is. Anyway, why don't you put your stuff away and then let's get you to your first class."
"Um, no, that's all right. I mean, thanks for your help but I'm sure I can find it on my own."
"Just like you found your locker?" he teased.
She blushed lightly. "I would have found it eventually."
"I know, but I still would like to take you to your class."
"If you insist..."
"I do. Just get what you need and let's go. By the way, my name is Damon."
"I'm-." She got cut off when a loud voice boomed out to her companion.
"Damon!"
She watched as a huge guy came over to slap Damon on the back. "Great to see you again. Ready to crush some bones in football again?"
"You bet Riley," he laughed as she turned to her locker to put some things away and let them alone a moment. Before long though, she heard him saying his good-bye to Riley and hurried to shut her locker door. "Well, ready to go?"
"Might as well," she grimaced.
He let out a hoot of laughter and she was torn between wanting to hide from embarrassment as people turned to stare or just giving in and laughing with him. She wasn't given a chance to decide however as the warning bell rang just then and Damon took her by the arm to guide her through the crowds of people.
Moments later, they were standing in front of her classroom. The teacher was greeting his students as they came into class and he smiled a friendly smile to her as she went in. "Mr. West! How's it going?"
The girl looked up from where she'd been settling herself in to see Damon and her teacher clasped hands. "Oh you know Damon. The same old stuff like always. How have you been? My class just hasn't been the same without you, you know."
"So you keep telling me," he laughed.
"Well it's true. No one else has had the guts to try and talk back to me about football since you left. Anyway, shouldn't you be heading off to class now young man?"
"Naw, it's all right. I'm just right next door."
"With Ms. Sherwood?"
"Yup. I just wanted to say hi and make sure this one got here safely," he nodded to her and she quickly ducked her eyes, trying to not make it obvious that she'd been listening to them talk.
"You were always so considerate Damon. It's been good seeing you. Now run off. I'll talk to you some more later. The bell's about to ring."
"Sure thing Mr. West. See you later. You too, umm..." He faltered when he looked back at her. "I'm sorry. I don't think I quite caught your name."
"It's Sharon."
"Right. Nice meeting you Sharon."
"Yeah, it was nice..." she trailed off when he dashed out of the doorway and ducked himself into his own classroom, finding a vacant seat in the back just as the bell rang. She looked up at the teacher and found him smiling at her kindly, a twinkle in his eye. Sharon blushed and busied herself with getting her stuff ready for class.
'Maybe going here won't be so bad. True, it's only been fifteen minutes but I'm a lot better than what I thought I would have been. Especially with Damon being so nice and all...' Sharon mentally kicked herself. 'Damon was just being nice, girl. It's no use making up dreams about him. He's most likely taken already, probably by that cheerleader, and if he wasn't, then he's got probably a lot of others he likes. No, he'd have nothing to do with someone like me, especially if he ever found out about-'
She shook her head, effectively stopping herself from finishing that thought. With that, Sharon gave a quiet sigh and turned her attention to the teacher who was handing out a class syllabus, losing herself into the monotonous tone of her teacher's voice.