01

*Montgomery*

"Welcome back everyone. I hope you all enjoyed Thanksgiving break because the next few weeks before winter break are going to be a bit rough."

Mr. Roberts was the fourth teacher of mine to say this today, and I was certain he wouldn't be the last. It was almost customary for the teachers of Ryedale High School to unleash hell on the student body in the weeks between Thanksgiving break and winter break. To kill the Christmas spirit and render their students sleep-deprived zombies that walk around dazed, mumbling random scientific equations

Even for those of us -like myself- with no social lives and nothing better to do than bury our faces in books, would fall into a pit of despair merely at the thought of the overwhelming workload.

"So we've been told a million times today." I mumble to myself, forgetting the close proximity of my darling teacher.

"What was that, Montgomery?"

I cringe slightly at the use of my full name. After having corrected all of my teachers in the beginning of the year and practically pleading for them to simply call me Monte, Mr. Roberts has always failed to grant my request. In fact in times like this -which were very rare- where'd I'd spark anger in the small, beady-eyed man's soul, he'd emphasize my given name. Just to punish me further for upsetting him.

"If it's alright with you Mr. Collins, I'd like to get on with my class." His sentence coming out harsh.

I quickly lower my head and push up my glasses before nodding at the ground. I can practically feel everyone's eyes on me. The next few weeks just got a bit rougher.

~

Walking out of Mr. Roberts' class feels like letting out an hour long breath and I find myself exhaling deeply as I step into the crowded hallway. However my relieved state is short lived before I'm crashing back into the now-closed door. Looking up through crooked classes I catch a glimpse of full curly black hair before the hair is flipped to reveal eyes that matched in color but differed so much in intensity. I straighten out my glasses, trying to see if I just imaged the dark fiery eyes. Once the frames sat on my face correctly and my eyes focus correctly again I stare back into the intense eyes.

A girl I've never seen before this moment stands in front of me in black skinny jeans, one of those black tank tops that left her toned stomach and pierced belly button on display, thick soled black boots and a black leather jacket. Her fiery eyes spark with excitement for a second before returning to the same intense, unreadable ones she held before, though her expression remains as blank as it was the second my eyes landed on her.

She looks me up and down and despite her small size and delicate frame, the gesture intimidates me. Her eyes raise back up to mine before the corner of her mouth lifts into a smirk.

"Watch where you're going, sweetheart." Giving me a final once over, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth slightly, she vanishes into the crowd. I watch her large curls move through the packed hallway until finally losing sight of them. Even after she's gone and the hallway begins to empty I'm stuck against the door staring in the direction she walked off in.

I'm sure the exchange was no longer than 30 seconds but it felt as if I was standing there letting eyes roam her soft tanned features, from her dark eyes shielded by long, thick lashes to her full pink lips, for hours. It felt like I'd stood in the same spot, thinking about the full curls that stopped just before her shoulders and the slight accent that graced her words, for even longer. Images of her full lips between her teeth, the sound of her accented voice as the word "sweetheart" fell from her mouth like silk, left the hairs on the back of my neck standing up.

The late bell ringing shook me back to reality, telling me the brief interaction couldn't have been longer than 3 minutes as well as the fact that I was now late for English. Great.

After struggling through a lecture on being late and a very high energy lesson on a very boring book, school was finally coming to an. I vaguely recall hearing my very loud and eccentric teacher explaining a project coming up at some point during the lesson. But truth be told, I couldn't focus on anything other than mystery girl. Contrary to the image she gave off she had soft features. Round doe-like eyes, a small button nose, and soft pink lips. At least they looked soft. Before my mind got the chance to pick apart her features any further the last bell rings, signaling the end of the school day.

The class erupts in a chorus of relieved sighs and I watch Mrs. Foster roll her eyes at their eagerness to leave.

As always, I wait behind so the hallways can clear out a bit. The small hallway leading to the school's parking lot was always crowded with excited teenagers ready to get out of this formidable hell. I've been trampled one too many times to even attempt a speedy escape.

Eventually I leave and finally reach the parking lot and make my way to my "sensible" -as my mother put it- black Honda Accord. Parked lazily next to my own car was a fancy black sports car and even from the other end of the parking lot I could here the cars engine roar to life before the tires screeched and the car was flying out of the parking lot. I couldn't make out the driver through the darkly tinted windows but I had feeling I knew who was behind the wheel. The beautiful, mysterious and somewhat intimidating, girl in black.

I spent the majority of my short car ride home thinking about her, for reasons unbeknownst to me.

Where did she come from?

Why have I never seen her before?

What was that accent?

Who is this girl?

I shook the thoughts from my head, clearing my thoughts as I pulled into the driveway of my rather unnecessarily large house.

Believe me, I'm grateful for the big bedroom, the walk in closet and the en suite but it seemed a bit excessive to have a house of this size when it's only my parents and I. Add to that my father constantly being away for business trips, the house was less meant about being a home and more about a way to show my dad's business friends he had a beautiful house.

I opened the door and my mother's voice filled my ears before another, more unfamiliar voice followed.

"Monte! Come in here, theres a few people I want you to meet."

Rolling my eyes, I turned to the direction of my mom's voice and the feeling from earlier returned. Those dark eyes locked on mine again and time slowed. My palms grow moist as she, once again, lets her eyes linger up the length of my tall frame before her lips turn up in a smirk. Her tongue darts out briefly to wet her lips before she plasters a mouth-watering smile on her face.

"Monte, this is Carla De La Cruz and her daughter Pandora. They just moved into the house across the street."

My mothers bright smile began to fall and morph into one of confusion as I stand before our "guests" opening and closing my mouth like a fish out of water.

My mom clears her throat and finally, I manage a small smile and a strained,

"Hi."

My mom looks at me with a concerned face once again. Probably wondering why I'm standing in her kitchen visibly having a stroke at the mention of our new neighbors.

Neighbors. Oh god.

"Why don't you take Pandora up to your room, she just started at Ryedale today. I'm sure you can help her navigate the new school. Carla and I are going to chat a little before dinner, hun"

If it were physically possible for a person's eyeballs to simply fall out of their eye sockets, mine would be rolling around on the floor, like marbles, right now. I can only imagine how crazy I probably look standing here with wide eyes and my jaw laying lazily on the tiled floor.

Close your mouth you'll catch flies.

"It was lovely to meet you Mrs. Collins. Thank you for having us." Pandora's voice brings me back to reality and my eyes move to her to watch her stand up. I'm frozen in my spot as she walks towards me with the same polite smile she gave my mother. Before I have time to react her hand reaches up to my chin and with her soft fingertips she closes my mouth for me.

"After you, sweetheart." She winks.

Stunned, I turn in the direction of the grand staircase and slowly make my way up the stairs. I hear her footsteps behind me before a loud voice comes from the kitchen.

"¡Compórtate, Pandora!" The thick Spanish accent must belong to Carla, Pandora's mother.

translation: "Behave yourself, Pandora!"

I stop outside my room before rushing to open the door. Once open I back up and hold my arm out in the direction of the door gesturing for Pandora to enter. She doesn't miss a beat before walking past me with a quick pat on my chest. I let out the breath I didn't realize I've been holding once she's in the room and slowly follow her in.

She's already looking around my room, picking up books from the desk and skimming the backs.

This goes on for a few minutes and I stand by the door tense, watching her roam around my room. Her small hands are everywhere, touching everything. In my room, I mean.

"Didn't peg you for Stephen King fan. You scream Star Wars."

I stay quiet, watching her from across the room. Part of me feels insulted but I'm too shocked at the bold and somewhat rude statement to actually for a response.

I've never even watched Star Wars.

She picks up a picture frame from the corner of the desk. The boy in the picture is smiling brightly, dripping wet from just having been pushed in the pool, and has his arms wrapped around the shoulders of a small woman with an identical face. My dad had taken the photo of me and my mother last year at a waterpark.

She turns the frame to me before smirking again.

"You know, I kind of like you shirtless."

After not hearing a response she turns to me and her signature smirk is now replaced my mischievous grin. Her eyes are sparkling with excitement. She sets the frame back down and comes up to me and although she stands several inches shorter than me I find myself cowering back as she nears.

"Monte, are you nervous?"

"No." I spoke, trying to keep my voice steady.

Her eyes lit up once again, telling me she saw through my lie. This only made her grin grow into a full blown smile, displaying her perfect pearly whites, as she continued her path towards me. Soon enough, I feel my back pressed against the wall and there was no where to go. She stops right in front of me, inches from my face as she looks up at me. I feel some force pulling me towards her, giving me no choice but to crane my neck down to look into her chocolatey irises. Slowly, she lifts her hand to my cheek and she pulls my face closer to hers. She's so close I can feel her cool breath on my ear, wafting the smell of her spearmint gum into my nose. She leans in further and presses her body gently against mine.

My entire body tenses at her soft touch, goosebumps cover my exposed skin and ironically the room feels significantly warmer. Being this close, the smell of her minty breath is replaced by the scent of her vanilla shampoo and it quickly invades my senses and clouds my thoughts. 

"I don't bite, sweetheart."