It's Thursday, lunchtime, and there’s not a typical scene in school where a ring bell goes off, unless there’s fire or a mad redneck who randomly snaps off and appears out of nowhere and starts shooting everybody.
I head out of the room and then someone hits me with his arm as he passes by.
“Oh, sorry.” He says in a low hoarse voice.
I would have kicked his ass if he didn't apologize.
As he walks past the windows of our classroom, the girls inside sing his name, and their screams penetrate both my eardrums.
"Oh, Bucky! Make love with me!" One gossip hoe screams, as if she's ashamed by what she's doing.
"Bucky! Let's make babies together!" Another one says.
So, that was the famous Bucky Jameson. My first impression of him is hitting me with his arm on my left boob. I still can feel the pain until now. Every time he walks in any hallway, girls from different levels cheer for him as if he wants all their attention. Or maybe he does because he’d never do anything to make them stop. All he does is smile at them, but then when they turn their backs, his brows crease and his nose scrunches. He wasn’t alone when he walked down our hallway. He got himself his friends, and all of them still wonder why their precious Eurocentric friend is way more popular than they are.
But he's just another guy to me. Sure he's good-looking but he doesn't hit any of my standards.
I turn to the other direction, and notice another guy covering his face with a gray hoodie, his hands are tightly gripping the straps of his backpack, and then he swifts by me as he enters my classroom. I don’t know what’s gotten into these people. They're weird. Perhaps the idea of Friday coming in a few hours explains the weirdness.
Aaliyah and Lenore follow me to the cafeteria, and then people around us start cheering. I look behind me, seeing Lenore cover her face from the crowd.
I roll my eyes, turning back to my front. 
Aaliyah says behind me. “Get used to it, pretty girl.”
“I still hate recognition.” Lenore answers in her fancy British accent.
"Must you be famous, love?" Aaliyah mocks Lenore's accent.
"Ew!! I don't speak like that!" She frowns.
"Eugh! I don't speak like that!" Aaliyah laughs at her own joke.
If she hates fame, then why did she sign up for modeling when she knows she's gonna be everywhere in the city, chased by paparazzi, shamed by haters, and attacked by death threats?
My stomach is growling so I care less about Aaliyah and Lenore now. We're inside the wide white hall where people are sitting on the tables and not on chairs because they're letting their backpacks take their seats. Then, I meet that Bucky again, surrounded by some of his friends. I see the gossip girls who cheered for him earlier start whispering in each other’s ears while stalking Bucky. He notices them and wears a disgusted expression. His jaws tighten, and his eyebrows meet, pinching the glabella of his nose. And then his eyes catch mine. I deadpan. Some girls look away after getting caught but I don’t, I retaliate. It's like a game to me. He cocks his head and his lips curve a little to form a smile, and looks away.
That reaction was new to me. Most of the time I stare at the boys, they'd either punch me in the face or run away.
I walk toward the counter and the two best friends follow me and we form the line.
“By the way guys…" Aaliyah speaks in a normal voice, but what she's about to say next is brazen. "...He’s on the plane, right now. It’s a 20-hour flight, and I can’t wait."
She lifts her right arm, and glances at her small wristwatch, she counts with her fingers while mumbling. "By now, four hours have passed.”
I pretend I don't hear her. 
"That's great." Lenore sounds like she's forced to fake her reaction over Aaliyah.
“Right?! And tomorrow, he’s finally coming over here and we’ll both be meeting each other! So, I’ll be absent from class, too.” 
Lenore nods, turning to me. “And I’m not going with her. She won’t let me, since I seem to be not on good terms with Adam.”
“Why? You’re the reason they met.” I say.
“Yeah, but it’s a date, so it should be just the two of us!” Aaliyah reasons out. "It's not comfy being sexually attracted to each other that we might end up in bed with a chaperone watching us the entire time!"
I shrug. "Must you really have to say that in a loud voice?"
“I’ll be bored tomorrow.” Lenore says as she sips some juice.
“Then, go stalk on your crush.” Aaliyah retorts.
“Sure, but I don't have one. What about you? Got anyone you like?” Lenore asks as she looks at me.
“Me? No.” I cross my arms on my chest. "I'm not into anyone."
“Yeah, but I saw how you looked at Bucky earlier.” An unfamiliar female voice startles me. I turn to my other side, and it’s one of Bucky’s friends.
She’s shorter, but average height. Her red hair is curly, short over her shoulder. She looks at me like she already knows me. Pointy nose, pinkish skin, slim. She looks like an athlete. Her eyes are a mix of blue and green, outlined with a darker blue. Foxy eyes, smoky eyeliners, light pink lipstick. Usually what mean girls would wear.
I look at her from head to toe, trying to remember if we'd met before. "I'm sorry. Who are you?"
She lifts her chin up as she talks again. “Nathalie Whitman. Room next to yours.”
I raise my brows, thinking about what I should say.
“I saw how you looked at my friend. Seems like you're into him.”
I squint my eyes. “Excuse me?"
She raises her eyebrows, “You must have witnessed the butterfly feeling for the first time when you did that.” She smirks and winks. "See 'ya."