A/N: This is a story that I am writing with one of my wonderful friends, Mythyx.

Chapter One:

Meet Blake...

“So what are you in for?” the dark-haired, dark-eyed senior in the corner chair finally broke the silence.

“Huh?” Ashlee asked, suddenly more embarrassed than she thought she’d be sitting in line to talk to the Vice Principle.

Mr. Adorable Senior smiled. He was even cuter when he smiled. “It’s Ok,” he said. “Most kids end up here at least once. What’d you do?”

“Oh. No, nothing like that. I just have to talk about changing my schedule around. I wanted to maybe get a different math class, and . . . um . . .yeah.” Ashlee smoothed her hair behind her ears and squeezed her eyes shut for a second or two before flipping her head back and smiling. “Hi. Sorry. Weird much?”

The boy smiled back. “Nah. You’re a first-timer. You’re allowed to be a little weirded-out by the whole thing. I’m Blake.” He extended his hand in greeting.

“Oh. Ashlee,” she answered, taking it. She tried to release his hand after one quick shake, but he held on for a fraction of a second longer. She blushed and looked down as he leaned back in his chair, his smile never fading.

Blake coughed dramatically. “You do realize that schedule changes are discussed by appointment only,” he said in a throaty, comic voice full of forced formality. “And no appointments may be made which remove a student from class.”

Ashlee just looked at him with slightly wide eyes. She couldn’t manage a reply.

“You just came from that math class you’re hoping to change, right? Somehow you told the teacher that she stunk and she sent you here? Am I right?”

Ashlee looked down in her lap and squeezed her eyes shut again. With an embarrassed smile she managed to nod. All at once, she found her voice. “It’s ridiculous. She doesn’t teach us anything. You can get extra credit by going to a softball game, but Gods forbid you actually ask a question in her class, providing you even have enough understanding to come up with a question. I mean, this stuff isn’t easy, it isn’t normal, and I’m never going to use it again anyway, and for that I’m risking being pulled from drama? I don’t think so. . . What?”

Blake was chuckling to himself. “No, I think it’s great. If you had been wrong about her, she would have told you to sit down and given you a detention. You don’t end up here unless you push the right buttons, which means you were 100 right. Not that that’s gonna help—you’re still in trouble. But at least you can go in there knowing you weren’t wrong. Out of line, maybe, but not wrong. Besides, from the sound of it I had the same teacher last year and she needed to hear someone tell her off. If it means anything, you’ve got my respect.”

Ashlee smiled again. “Thank you,” she cooed, coyly. “I don’t think I’ll feel very ‘right’ or ‘respected’ when I get home, though. I may be a ‘first-timer,’ as you put it, but I don’t think being sent to the office is ever really a good thing.”

Blake nodded. “Yeah, the parental units can flip over it sometimes. You think it’ll be bad?”

Ashlee shrugged. “Don’t really know. ‘First-timer,’ remember? But I live with my brother, and they’re pretty cool. I’ll be grounded, I have no doubt. But it shouldn’t be too bad.”

“I know grounded. I’m pretty sure I’ll know grounded very well for at least the next two weeks.” Blake paused, then leaned forward in his chair. “I know this seems like an odd time to make plans, but I’d love to see you when we’re both free-agents again. Have a burger and swap horror stories? See a movie about youth-gone-wrong?”

Ashlee cocked her head to one side. “You never told me what you were ‘in for.’”

This time Blake looked embarrassed. “Not my finest hour, it seems. I wish I could tell you I stood on a soapbox and told a rotten teacher to go to hell, or even that I got caught trying to ditch or something exciting like that. Nothing cool. I just fell asleep in history for what appears to be the last time.”

“Don’t like history?” Ashlee asked.

“No, it isn’t that. At least, I don’t think so. I don’t remember much from this year.” Blake shook his head, “No, I just don’t sleep at night and a nice cozy lecture class right after lunch is a little more than I can take.”

Ashlee’s eyes sparkled more than usual, bringing the blue to life under the dull fluorescent lights. “I have insomnia, too. I never seem to sleep more than an hour or so at a time unless I’m totally sick or something.”
Blake lost a little of his “cool” and seemed more down-to-Earth for the briefest moment. “Wow. It isn’t something I really talk about that often. Not many people understand what it means to watch the clock tick for eight hours a night. Good thing I like to read.”

“Blake Winters, please come in.” The door to the Vice Principle’s office opened behind them, and it brought the reality of the situation crashing back. Blake shot Ashlee one last glance and raised his eyebrows before standing up and turning to enter the office.

“Blake!” Ashlee was surprised by her own gall as she called after him. He turned to look at her. “See you in about two weeks then?”

Blake smiled widely as he disappeared into the Vice Principle’s office. Now alone in the waiting area, Ashlee sat quietly, hugging her notebook and biting her lip. It didn’t really matter what happened in that office in the next few minutes, or in the few minutes after that when it would be her turn to face the music. There was a glimmer of excitement in her life that hadn’t been there before, and she’d take twice whatever was coming to her knowing that it meant meeting Blake Winters.

Onto the next chapter...