Meant to Be (The Saving Angels 1)

“I love to read,” I replied once again, surprised that here was something else we had in common. I could tell by the look on Sam’s face that she was surprised also.

We made it to first period just as the bell rang. Sam slid in her seat in the back of the room, while I waited up at the front for the teacher.

As the room filled up, I could feel the many stares of the other students in the class. I felt my face start to flush as I studied the ground. I hated being the center of attention and would have welcomed it if the ground opened up and swallowed me whole. Then I remembered Sam was in the class, I looked up and met the many stares head on. I scanned the faces; finally settling on Sam’s and felt my panic begin to subside as I realized that for the first time ever that I was not alone in school.

As if she could read my mind, Sam smiled at me and made a crooked face at the back of all the students watching me.

I almost laughed out loud, but managed to stifle it before it could erupt out of me. I couldn’t contain the wide smile that spread across my face.

I noticed that a few of the boys in the class sat up straighter and looked at me appreciatively like my smile was for them. More than a few of them leered at me in a more vulgar way.

I choked back a half-laugh at their looks; I wouldn’t give them the time of day. I was only interested in one guy, and though I knew it was juvenile to carry a torch for some dream guy, I couldn’t help myself.

I was assigned to a seat that was in the back and two rows away from Sam’s. I was relieved that it was in the back of the room. My moment of bravery had faded and I was more than ready for everyone to stop staring at me.

First period dragged. I had taken all the math classes required at my previous school, but St. Briggets expected me to take four years of math to graduate. The math was easy and I could have done the problems in my sleep. I finished the twenty problems with half the period still remaining. I glanced at Sam; she had her nose already buried in a book she had pulled out of her bag.

Usually, I would pretend to continue working so that I would not attract attention to myself, but as I watched Sam reading, I decided to follow suit. I was going to try to turn over a new leaf and stop trying to fade into the background so much.

With Sam’s help, I made it through the next two classes, and by fourth period I was ready to tackle it alone. Sam’s positive attitude was beginning to rub off on me and I felt surprisingly confident. We had sat next to each other in the last two classes and passed the time by sneaking notes back and forth.

We split up outside Mrs. Rod’s class.

“I’ll meet you in front of the cafeteria,” Sam said as she hurried off to her own class.

Mrs. Rod was at her desk when I entered the room. She handed me back my schedule and explained the simple class rules, and then told me to choose a seat anywhere.

In typical fashion, I chose a seat in the back of the room and pulled out my current book. Thumbing it open to the page I left off on, I started to read until I realized I really wasn’t paying attention to it.

My mind was preoccupied by the things Sam and I seemed to share. It was just a little wacky that we had so much in common. Like the fact that she had been in foster care, and I was adopted. It seemed odd that both of us were being raised by people other than our real parents. That, combined with the fact that Sam claimed to have emotional issues also… Were adopted kids just more sensitive, and did I just have a stronger case of it?

“He’s a babe,” a short mousy looking girl all but squealed to her seat mate. “Have you seen him?” she asked.

My thoughts were interrupted by a conversation going on in front of me.

“Yeah, I saw him. He’s totally hot, he looks barely older than us, but he has to be older, otherwise he wouldn’t be able to intern here. I bet he’s no older than twenty though,” replied her seatmate.

“I don’t care how old he is,” piped in a third voice, “I would love to spend some quality detention time with him.”

I couldn’t believe they were talking about an intern like that, he was practically their teacher. I thought it showed bad taste to be panting after some teacher. I was raised to respect my teachers and to treat them like you would treat a parent.

I shot a look of disgust at them and then re-opened my book. This time I was able to lose myself in the pages and before I knew it the bell was ringing.

I gathered up my things and headed out of the room ready to distance myself from the gossiping girls. They had talked through the whole period, and though I had been able to tune out their words, their annoying voices were harder to ignore.

Sam was waiting for me right where she said she would be.

“Do you buy or brown bag it?” she asked.

“Brown bag,” I said, holding up my lunch for her to see.

“Good! Me too, let’s eat outside, it’s a nice day.”

Everyone had the same idea and many of the seats were taken up outside. We headed for a big oak tree and settled under it.

“We could never do this at my old school.”

“Where was your old school?” Sam asked.