Ms. Sharma had beautiful chocolate skin that was perfect, not a pimple in sight, which was complimented with her wavy black hair which was pulled up in a ponytail. Since the day of the incident (which is what I am calling that unfortunate day) we have become best friends. She realized I was smart and I realized she loved me then, our friendship began. Whenever no one would answer, I raised my hand and stopped her pain. In return, Ms. Sharma gave me A's and compliments. The best thing was that she says hi back to me in the hallways. No longer am I the only one putting myself and my reputation on the line and whispering hello to teachers when we pass, afraid of being rejected once again. It was a beautiful relationship until the day that Ms. Sharma decided to do a desk change.

"Owen and Penelope," Ms. Sharma called from her blue sheet.

Her rusty ugly vintage glasses were low on her crooked nose, her hair was twisted into a messed up bun and her pants; oh they were just hideous.

As you can see, I wasn't very happy about the desk change. I didn't really like anyone in my class except for Catherine and she had her off days as well. At least Owen was already taken. I could see Penelope's glares at Ms. Sharma as she pushed her chair away from Owen in annoyance.

Poor girl.

Nobody looked happy about the news of the desk change. When Ms. Sharma bounced in, crying out "DESK CHANGE", everyone shrunk into nervous ferrets, twitching at the sound of their names. Catherine was positioned in an armadillo pose and kept muttering under her breath about how she was going to put a ton chili powder in Ms. Sharma's curry tomorrow.

"Catherine and Yang."

Beside me, Catherine visibly straightened and beamed at Ms. Sharma while I, internally, rolled my eyes. Guess Ms. Sharma doesn't have to pack an extra bottle of water tomorrow.

Great. Good for her. She gets to sit next to the hottest Asian guy at this school. I bet that in two weeks they would've dated, broken up, got back together and broken up again.

"Bye," Catherine leaned in, and ran to Yang who was leaning his chair back on the back two legs.

She seemed way too desperate, her face red and her scarf disarranged with her eyes showing all her emotions. Anyone could read her and use her. It seemed Yang had gotten that idea too. His mouth twisted into a smile but his eyes weren't as genuine. They went over her body twice and gleamed with ideas. After a moment or two, his eyes went over to Penelope's and did the same.

Bye. I hope your heart doesn't break to pieces like glass.

I was too preoccupied with watching Yang and Catherine's exchange, I didn't hear my own name being called.

"Shailey. Shailey. SHAILEY," Ms. Sharma boomed.

I snapped out of my thoughts and glanced at the reddening teacher.

"Yes?" I asked, weakly, glancing at my blue sneakers.

"You are with Evan."

Yes, those four words, completely ended our relationship. There, I knew, that would be no more having each other's backs and telling math jokes. No hellos or smiles in the hallway. Nothing. Just two people who like math.

I glanced at Evan. No reaction. Whatsoever. His body was still in the same way, smirk still on his face as his friend whispered in his ear. Oh this was going to be a fun semester.

"Go on," Ms. Sharma urged.

I glared at her and picked up my books and stomped toward Evan. Once there, I slammed my books down and plunked down on my seat.

"Hello."

Hey, we were going to be buddies all semester; might as well make an effort to be friendly.

"Hey," Evan muttered back.

That was pretty much our whole conversation for the rest of the period.

"Well now that everyone is happy with their new partners," Ms. Sharma began.

Is that how she saw it? Happy? Because looking around the classroom, she had completely misjudged our expression of hate and disgust for love and joy. To think, I actually liked this teacher. What on earth was I thinking? I'd have better taste liking the teacher who lets his students spank him. Yes, we have a lot of wacko's working at this school. That's what you get when your government pays the teachers less than nurses.

"Lets start circle geometry now, shall we?" Ms. Sharma beamed, oblivious to the death threats being formed against her.

I would kill to be that ignorant.

Once Ms. Sharma had given us a lesson on circle geometry and 15 questions from the textbook, the class was left to do basically whatever they wanted for ten minutes.

With Evan still not saying anything, I was left alone with my thoughts and then after like a minute, I got bored of that. So to pass the time, I started sighing to piss him off.

Sigh.

Nothing.

Sigh.

A flicker of a smile.

I frowned. That's not what I wanted.

I sigh again, louder.

A definite smile now.

Ugh. This guy's a freak.

"I'm a freak?"

Oops. I need to stop speaking my thoughts.

"Ummmm. Yes?"

"I'm the freak but you are the one who is normally sighing to get my attention," Evan states, lifting his eyebrow at a circle property.

"That sounds about right."

Evan gives out a breathy laugh and says, "That sounds a little odd to me."

"Well have you considered that you're odd finding me sighing odd?"

Evan finally looks at me. However it isn't with the smile he shot at me two weeks ago. He has a confused expression, as if he didn't actually follow my brilliant question.

We have a staring contest. I don't know why. We just did. His freakish yellow eyes met my brown ones. It was a battle of who would let go first. Of who was the strongest. I could see concentration from the tips of his white blond hair to his pale freckled face. His hunched over body straightened with defiance and mine slumped in turn. My face was heating up and my stomach was in flames. It felt like his was too.

Suddenly his mouth twisted and yanked their way up into a smile. A chuckle. He picked up his huge green back pack and left the classroom.

The bell had rung. There was no one else in the classroom except me.

I sat there shocked and soon I started to laugh. Just laugh. A care free laugh. To be honest, I didn't know why I was laughing. It just felt good. We had shared a memory. One of the good ones. Ms. Sharma didn't seem so wretched there in that moment. She had given me a gift wrapped in a blond exterior with a sense of humor so unlike my own.

I don't know what I felt that day. It was a mixture of excitement, anxiety and incredulity in the pit of my stomach. I didn't know what to think except the fact that I couldn't wait until math the next day.