I slammed my locker shut and quickly made my way to my first hour.
Brandi doesn’t have the same one so right now I was alone. It’s not like I don’t have any other friends, I just hang out with Brandi so much I don’t hang out with anyone else.
I scanned the room quickly and saw all familiar faces; all except one.
Instantly, I knew this was the new kid.
Brandi’s explanation of him was far from close.
The boy’s eyes were the smooth color of milk chocolate. His hair was a dark brown and carelessly messed up but perfectly in place. He didn’t have a tan; it was a natural caramel coloring. Not a single blemish stood on his face except for a tiny scar through is eyebrow. His mouth split into a surprised expression (revealing perfectly white teeth) and his eyes met mine.
My heart began to pound and I breathed heavily.
“Miss Smith,” the teacher glanced down at his attendance sheet, “please sit and take a seat by Mr. Blackmond.”
Who?
Oh no.
I cast my eyes down as I made my way to the back of the room.
Everyone seemed to watch me sit by the new kid and I felt my face grow red.
I quickly sat down in my seat. Setting my stuff on the desk, I allowed my hair to cover the right side of my face.
Silence was the loudest noise in the room at the moment.
“Okay class,” the teacher stood up, “my name is Mr. Harmon and I am your brand new English teacher.”
I sat motionless in my chair, not wanting Blackmond to come closer.
“Everyone pull out a piece of paper and writing utensil.”
I opened my binder and pulled out a pen.
I’ve always preferred pens over pencils. “
Now, please answer then following questions: What is your name? When is your birthday? How many siblings do you have? What is your favorite thing to do? What scares you the most and why?”
I stared down at the paper.
The first four questions were easy…it was the last one I was so hesitant about.
I pressed the pen to my paper and squeezed it tightly as I wrote: Name: Analia Hazel Smith. Birthday: April 27, 1996. Siblings: 0. Favorite thing to do: read and write. What scares me the most: love…I can’t explain why.
I could easily explain why, I just didn’t want to.
“Please turn in your papers when you’re done,” Mr. Harmon called.
I stood up, turned it in, and went to sit down. Blackmond (as I decided to call him for now) was twirling his pen in between his hands like he was struggling to think.
He was on the “What are you afraid of most,” question.
His name was Espen Davis, his birthday was February 14, 1996, he had…eight siblings, his favorite thing to do is play baseball, and he was afraid of…the truth.
I noticed he didn’t answer.
Espen stood up and went to turn in his paper and when he came back, was focused on me.
“Hi.”
Oh, his voice was perfect.
It wasn’t too deep and it wasn’t too high. His eyes were focused on mine, causing me to mentally remind myself to breathe.
“Hello.”
Hello? Since when had I ever been prim and proper?
“What’s your name,” he asked, and I sighed in relief. At least he hadn’t been looking at my paper.
“Analia. Analia Smith.”
“I’m Espen. Espen Blackmond,” he held out his hand.
Reluctantly, I shook it. His fingers were soft but his palm was calloused.
“How long have you been here,” he asked.
People were starting to look I felt myself grow red yet again.
“My whole life…I’m not the exciting type,” I said.
He laughed quietly but caught people’s attention.
Even Ashley Benson looked back.
This girl take pride in having the same name as a Pretty Little Liar actor means she has to act just like her character. She dressed to the nines, she always has a boyfriend, and she doesn’t take no for an answer. Her eyes narrowed at me and I dropped my gaze to the desk.
“What’s your schedule,” he asked, pulled his out, and handed it to me.
Oh no.
“You have every single class with me.”
“Well,” he grinned, “could you be my escort?”
My eyes flashed from his eyes, to his lips, to the floor.
“I’m sure Ashley wouldn’t mind showing you around.”
I stood up just as the bell rand and left just as the bell rand and left, only catching bits and pieces of what our homework was.
I had to find Brandi.

“You what?”
I cringed as about ten people turned abruptly to look at the source of the scream that erupted from Brandi.
“Don’t draw attention to us,” I hissed and grabbed a bottle of water.
“The hottest guy in school asked you to show him around and you denied?”
Before I could answer a tan hand shot out and grabbed my water.
“Thanks love.” I turned and saw Sean.
Sean is our best friend, aside each other.
We’ve all grown up together and never once had a problem with Sean liking one of us.
“Are you thanking me for the water or Brandi’s comment,” I reached into the freezer and pulled out another one. “Both,” he winked and I stuck my tongue out at him.
“What’s this about me,” he asked, paying for his water.
“Espen, the hot new guy, asked Ana to lead him around and she denied.”
Sean turned and watched me carefully as I paid for my lunch.
“What,” I demanded.
“Are you feeling okay?”
“Why?”
“I was just wondering…when do girls ever turn down the hot new guy?”
I scowled and stormed off towards our table.
“That’s what I said,” Brandi sighed, following me. Hundreds of eyes followed us, most of the girls staring at Sean.
I have to admit, Sean is pretty good looking. He has long, blonde, shaggy hair that stops just above his eyes, royal blue eyes that are piercing to look at, and a crooked smile that seems perfect. His tan is so deep; you can tell he has had to spend hours in the sun to get it like that. I’ve just never found him interesting.
As soon as I came to, I stopped.
Sitting at our table was Espen…surprisingly along. He had his phone out (against school policy) in one hand and was eating with the other.
“So this is the mystery man,” Sean said behind me, and then moved around me.
“Hey man,” he set his tray down and held out a hand.
Espen looked up, swallowed, and shook it. “Hey.” His voice was perfect no matter what he said.
“My name’s Sean but everyone calls me Sean,” he grinned.
Brandi and I rolled our eyes in unison and watched.
“My name’s Espen; everyone calls me new kid.”
A flash of hurt rolled across his face but as I blinked it disappeared, and I figured I just imagined it.
“So hey man. Welcome to this dump. I’m surprised you moved it, no one ever does. This is our table.”
Sean said the last bit like he was talking about the weather.
“Oh my bad, I’ll move.”
“No man it’s cool. Just be prepared, you sit here…and you’re a middle classer compared to the Preps.”
“The Preps?”
Brandi and I moved over to the table.
I sat by her and Sean sat by Espen.
“The Preps are those guys over there,” Brandi pointed over to the middle of the cafeteria were a large table of ten people sat.
Five girls and five guys all sat with identical posture, poise, and a look of attitude. They were the Preps and they were the towns “rich kids”. They had the designer shoes and the real purses and they drove triple digit thousand dollar cars. They all dressed preppy. They girls wore matching outfits of blouses, pants, skirts, tights, and accessories (all arranged to match for that day).
The leader was Ashley.
She was the meanest, prettiest, and preppiest of them all.
As if we yelled her name out loud, she turned quickly to look at us.
Her eyes widened then narrowed like in class and if looks could kill; Ashley would be going to jail for manslaughter.
“I’m a middle classer is the real world, why not be in high school,” Espen laughed.
Sean grinned, Brandi laughed, and I tore my eyes away from Ashley.
“So you’re officially apart of our group now,” Brandi smiled.
I felt a thud of jealously pump inside me but I held it back.
Of course Brandi would like Espen.
Who wouldn’t like Espen?
She was prettier, smarter, and more athletic.
Espen was like the prince charming to her sleeping beauty.
I stared down at the table and started to eat my food.
“What exactly do you consider yourselves then,” Espen asked in my direction.
I didn’t look up.
“Ana?” Brandi had a sound of concern in her voice.
I looked up and found myself locked onto Espen’s beautiful eyes. A smile crept onto his lips and the corners of his eyes crinkled up. I felt my lips curl into a smile and heart started to race.
“I consider us,” I looked at Sean and Brandi carefully, “the misfits.”
He laughed.
It was a deep sound, rich and beautiful, and drew attention from everyone around us.
“Why the misfits,” he asked, leaning across the table.
Our faces were close, inches apart actually. His arms were folded and his breath smelled like mint. I felt myself leaning forward also, our noses almost touching.
“We don’t seem to belong anywhere else,” I said quietly.
He smiled and my heart skipped a beat at the thought of him being so close to me.
“Then I believe, I would like to belong with the ‘belong nowhere people’,” his lips stopped moving but were slightly parted.
I couldn’t help but stare at how beautiful they were; pink and full.
Sean cleared his throat and we pulled back.
I noticed how almost everyone was staring and I felt myself flush red.
“I have to go,” I mumbled, and left my food, friends, and dignity behind.

Two weeks had passed since Espen’s arrival.
Now he was officially apart of our group and I had no clue how I was going to handle myself around him. Brandi didn’t seem to notice my discomfort, but who would with Mr. Perfect around?
I opened the front door to my house and stepped inside.
The house was dark and quiet and I knew my dad wasn’t home.
I placed my book bag down and walked into the kitchen.
On the table was a note that read: Analia, I am at the store. I won’t be back another hour or two. Tonight we’re having guests, a lot of them at that. I love you, dad.
Oh, wonderful.
I pulled out my books from my book bag and started to do homework.
I pulled out my phone and text Brandi.
I’ve got company coming over later. Want to help cook?
Two seconds later I got, Of course I do.
See you at five.
Around four fifty, my dad walked through the door with about ten shopping bags in each hand.
“Dad, if you needed help I would’ve come,” I sighed, taking the bags from his hand.
“I was fine.”
He set his bags on the counter and faced me, “Can you text Brandi to come and help?”
“Already done,” I pointed at the door as Brandi walked in.
“Hello Mr. Smith,” she smiled and set her purse down on the kitchen table.
“Thank goodness,” my dad clapped his hands together and then said “We’re having ten people over so good luck.”
Brandi and I grinned at each other.
“Let’s get to work.”

An hour later, we had finished frying, boiling, chopping, and stirring.
Laid out on the table was our dinner.
“We did well,” I said. Brandi nodded.
“Nice job ladies,” my dad smiled and took a whiff, “it smells,”
“Well, I have to get going,” Brandi grabbed her purse and opened the front door.
“You’re not going to stay for dinner?”
“Oh no sir, now I have to cook dinner at my house.”
When she left I asked, “Who is this family anyway?”
“They just moved here. Their name’s Blackmond.”
Oh no.
A loud knock sounded on the door and my dad went to open it.
Standing in the doorway was a tall handsome man, a gorgeous woman, and eight equally beautiful children.
The man had dark, thick, short hair and piercing blue eyes.
The woman had long blonde hair and dark brown eyes with flecks of green.
In her arms was a baby girl of about two years old. She had soft brown hair and blue eyes just as bright as her dad’s.
Behind them were three girls; one of five, twelve, and fifteen.
Next to them were four boys: one of seven, twelve, and fifteen…and then Espen.
The shocked look on his face was replaced with a smile.
“Anthony, Amelia, come on in.”
All ten of them filed in.
“Hi,” Espen, smile. I took a deep breath and said “Hi.”
“This is my daughter Analia,” my dad squeezed my arm gently.
“Hello,” I smiled.
It was a no brainer to see where Espen got his looks.
“Hello, I’m Amelia,” Espen’s mom took her hand with her free one and smiled warmly.
I couldn’t help but smile.
“I’m Anthony obviously,” his dad laughed.
“We’ve heard a lot about you,” Amelia started but Espen cleared his throat.
“Now, I’ve heard of all these kids but who are they,” my dad asked.
“This little girl is Emilin, she’s two. This is Eya, she’s five. This is Emanuel, he’s seven. These are one of our twins; Edeline and Easton. They’re twelve. These are our second twins; Earlene and Eamon, their fifteen. And this is Espen, our oldest.”
That is a lot of kids.
“I’m positive we have enough chairs,” my dad herded everyone to the dining room.
Entering this room always made me sad.
Before the divorce, we would have friends and family over almost every weekend.
Now seeing it fully made and the room bright made me sad.
Espen caught my eye and I saw a look of discomfort.
I smiled and sat down.
My dad sat on my left and Ethan sat on my right.
He looked like the identical version of Espen, just smaller.
“What’s your name,” he asked.
I looked at my dad with a small smile on my face, and then turned back to Ethan.
“My name is Analia.”
He frowned and then turned back to look at his parents.
“Is she the same Analia Espen always talks-?”
“So,” Espen interrupted loudly, “who made all of this?”
His parents exchanged a knowing smile and I looked at Espen.
His face was turning red, his eyes were cast downwards, and he was avoiding anyone’s eyes.
“Analia and her best friend Brandi made dinner,” my dad answered Espen’s question finally, “they usually cook.”
“Well let’s not just sit here,” Anthony smiled at me, “let’s eat.”
Two hours later, the three youngest were sleeping. The next oldest four were watching TV in the living room and the Blackmond’s, Espen, my dad, and I were in the kitchen.
“Analia,” Anthony asked, “what colleges have you been looking forward to?”
I felt myself grow red as I said “Yale, Harvard, and Stamford are my big three. UNC Chapel Hill is another main one.”
“What’s your current GPA?”
“I have a solid 4.0.”
The Blackmond’s smiled.
“You have a bright one on your hands,” Amelia said to my dad.
“She’s gets it from her-.”
My dad and I froze.
Pain erupted in my chest and tears filled my eyes.
Espen locked eyes with me.
On his face was a look of pure pity, sadness, and…knowing?
“Analia gets it from her brilliant father,” he said, not looking away.
“Thank you,” I said quietly, breaking eye contact.
I smiled sadly as the Blackmonds and said “It was a pleasure meeting you,” and then headed upstairs.
As soon as I get to my room I closed the door before collapsing onto my bed and crying.
I hadn’t cried in a while, but that didn’t mean it felt good.
A soft knock on the door interrupted my crying fest and I mumbled a “Come in.”
The door opened to reveal Espen. Horrified, I turned away.
My bed moved in and I felt heat radiating off of Espen.
“Analia,” he said quietly.
I looked up and him, tears blurring my vision.
“You look so much more beautiful when you’re smiling,” he whispered and kissed my forehead before sliding his arms around me and holding me to him.
A few minutes later I asked quietly, “You really think so?”
I felt his warm breath on the top of my head and felt his lips press against it.
“Yes, I really do.”