The clock read two fifty-three.

Mentally, I sighed with relief. This meant I only had seven more minutes to get out of this hell whole and return home. My last block classes always seemed to drag on, so I figured these next few minutes would go by extremely slow.

Without even realizing it, I started to analyze everyone in the classroom.

I started at the front of the room. With the people who wore button-ups, loafers, and probably ironed their clothes more than the cheerleading squad ironed their hair. Those few people in the front of the classroom were labeled as "nerds." Though on occasion, I debated whether the nerds got even better treatment than the populars. In every classroom, the nerds were every teacher's personal favorite. They were polite and quiet but one of them always had their hand raised.

A few seats behind the nerds were the snobby rich kids. They were not exactly popular, but they did not necessarily care about what other people thought of them. They were more enhanced by what or who they were wearing and who's jet they were going to fly to Paris that weekend. They never socialized outside of their clique. I figured that was because they thought everyone else was below them. I scoffed at the thought. They were possibly the dumbest people I'd ever met.

Next to the spoiled rich kids were the populars. The populars at River Heights consisted of the jocks and the cheerleaders and the dancers. They ruled this school. And since our town was so small, they did not only rule the school but the town as well. Everyone twisted their backs just to make the populars happy. Everyone practically worshiped the ground they walked on. It was pathetic. And I hated them with a passion. They took advantage of every thing and every one around them. It disgusted me.

The last few rows of students were labeled as the "losers" of this small, pathetic school. You know, the people at the very bottom of the High School food chain. The types of people society deemed as "unfit." The rebels, if you will. According to the rest of our town, I was considered a "loser" among all the others. But it didn't bother me. Not one bit. It kept people away and that was all I really wanted. Life was easier this way.

Ding. Ding. Ding.

The most glorious sound rang through my ears. The bell.

Quickly, I collected my things and marched out of the classroom and into the crowded halls. The halls full of chatter and laughter and scared freshman and obnoxious jocks and shallow girls. I kept my head up and avoided eye contact with anyone while my feet carried me to my locker. It wasn't too far away from my last class, I made it there in record time.

The second my locker was opened, I couldn't shake this strange feeling. That feeling you get when you sense a tickle up your spine as if you are being watched. It wasn't too often that I got that feeling so I looked around. The moment I lifted my head, my green eyes met with her slightly round bown orbs.

Who is she? Your average stuck-up, stupid, judgmental, conceited cheerleader. Her along with the rest of those damned populars stood for everything I hated. She was not the head cheerleader or HBIC, but it did not matter to me. She was still one of them.

Instinctively, I looked away and refocused on getting the books I needed so I could take them home to study.

Suddenly, I could feel the presence of another by my side and I did not have to look up again to know it was her. The sound of her smacking her gum was enough to make me grit my teeth. But she did not talk to me. She never did. Instead, she slipped something in my back pocket when no one was looking and then she disappeared.

I looked around the nearly stranded hall to make sure she was gone. Once the coast was clear I took out the note and read it.

We need to talk.

- Faith

With a roll of my eyes, I crumbled the note up in my fist and threw it in the back of my locker.

We would talk alright. I snickered to myself.

Mist suddenly filled the air. Sweaty, musky, heavy mist so strong that it could only be muffled by the sounds of her cries. 

Her agonizingly drawn out, loud, helpless cries of her sweet release.

The slick, hot wetness of her walls clenched around me painfully so. The muscles against my arms and back flexed as I drove into her with a concentration I did not know I possessed. 

A groan slipped passed my bruised lips at the feel of her nails digging into my back. 

The second her legs snaked around my waist, I was a goner. She knew I was a sucker for those damn legs. They were short and ample, but they were fucking fascinating all the same.

I slid my hand along the soft, sweaty, plush skin of her thigh. I gave her hips a passionate squeeze as I slammed into her wholeheartedly.

The sounds of her helpless cries of pleasure and the headboard bagining against the wall was all I could hear.

With one last determined thrust, I felt myself come undone into the condom. Soundlessy, I fell on top of her, carefull not to crush her petite frame with my weight.

After what seemed to be an eternity of silence between us and trying to catch our breaths, she spoke.

"River, this is the last time!" Her voice was strong, and powerful. Her tone left no room for argument.

I did not even attempt to hide the smug look on my face. She and I both knew this was not the last time.

Only one among many.