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The feel of her lips against my own was driving me crazy. The addictive feel of pleasurable shock, that shot through my body from just her lips, was something so new and foreign. She was barely touching my hips, as her finger tips skimmed the fabric covering them. At that moment I just wanted to ravage her lips more and see how far this could go- Wait. Didn't my alarm just go off?!

My head shot up from my pillow in fear, as I remembered that I turned my alarm off and didn't actually snooze it. I brushed my wild curls out of my face, the frizz that obstructed my view from the time. I looked down at my phone and cursed at myself when I realized I had 30 minutes to get to school.

"Well shit, that dream has really left me hanging." I mumbled groggily, as I remembered where I left off. I shook the naughty thoughts out of my head and realized I didn't have time to sit around.

I jumped out of my bed, quickly raced to the bathroom to brush my teeth and get myself together for the day. Once I finished in the bathroom, I raced into my closet, rummaged through my clothes, and tossed clothing around here and there. I sighed in relief when I found the outfit I wanted from the rush of the morning. I quickly pulled on a horizontal black and white stripped long sleeve crop top, dark blue overalls covered in grease, and my crusty air forces from a year back.

"Oh God, hair! Hair!" I yelled at myself and looked into my bathroom mirror. I pulled it back into a messy ponytail and left the flyaways alone. When I was satisfied with my appearance, I grabbed my phone, keys, and backpack. I raced out of the room and down the staircase. My average 3 bedroom house was empty, since my older brother was in college, and my parents were at work. I grabbed my bulky brown jacket, that I stole from my brother, and raced out to my baby.

I started the engine of my black 1965 Ford Mustang, as the convertible roared to life when I pressed the gas a few times. I pulled out of the driveway and drove like Speed Racer to the high school I've been forced to go to since my freshman year. My senior year wasn't turning out to be the hottest. It seemed for the first two weeks back I've been late almost everyday, not making me a favorite with the administrative staff at the school.

Once I found a spot close enough to the school, I grabbed my bag, locked my car, and raced inside. I thankfully made it inside the school before the last bell and sighed a bit in relief. I raced through the corridors to my first block class: chemistry.

I slowed down my pace and casually strolled into the classroom, while I whistled and twirled my keys on my finger. My teacher, Mr. Timothy, glanced over to me and shook his head a bit.

"Fayola Abbas, this is the twelfth time you've been late to my class." Mr. Timothy hummed, as he turned his back to me and began to write notes on the whiteboard.

"Oh, sir, I am well aware. The thing is though, I know I'm one of your favorites. Of course, I never try to be late, but my bed had me wrapped up in it like a burrito! I couldn't find a way to escape in time." I joked, as a few of my classmates broke into snickers. Mr. Timothy simply shook his head, waved his dry erase marker around to dismiss me, as I could see a small smirk begin to play on his lips. I smiled innocently and quickly found a seat next to my best friend, and jackass childhood partner-in-crime, Jiro Ikeda.

"Nice cover-up, smartass." He said as sarcasm dripped from his tone. I simply rolled my eyes and shoved him a bit.

"Yeah, whatever. Just give me the notes when you're done, nerd boy." I joked, as he stuck his tongue out at me.

Jiro Ikeda has been a close friend of mine since 2nd grade. We first met through me pushing him out of the way and then him shoving me back. We broke out into a fight, were separated, and then sent to the principal's office. During that time we had to sit outside the office, until we were called in, he called me many names in Japanese (and not nice ones either). I just simply stuck my tongue out at him, not understanding a single word that he was saying. But, he made a joke about the bruise forming on my arm that looked like poop. I immediately knew we'd be great friends with the same sense of humor.

Ten years later all I heard during chemistry is how he doesn't understand how I put in less than minimal work, but pass every test with an A. I just stared at the ranting teen with a cocky smirk from his silly antics. He shook his head in annoyance after a while and focused back on what Mr. Timothy taught.

I simply let my eyes wander around the room, as I spotted my other close friend, Amoy Shaw, sleeping on her desk. Her long dreadlocks were sprawled out across the table she shared with her partner. The guy simply pushed the locks off his notes and just let her sleep, not minding the slight snoring that came from the Jamaican crackhead.

I poked Jiro and once I caught his attention, I pointed over to Amoy, as he snickered and shook his head.

"She was up all night trying to figure out how to connect a battery from a kiddie car to her skateboard." He explained to me, as I simply rolled my eyes.

Amoy is an aspiring engineer, who loved to play with wires and connect things together whenever she finds a new project. I met her back in middle school, around 7th grade, when we were in the same math class. I sat next to her, but always watched her connect and disconnect the wires to her calculator. When I finally asked her how she knew how to do that, she exploded with information. She was simply waiting for the day that I finally asked her how it worked, and gave me a headache by the end of the class. After that I introduced her to Jiro and they immediately hit it off, creating our three jackass parade (as I like to call it).

While my mind daydreamed about eating the snacks I left in my backpack from the other day, I was rudely interrupted by the bell. I groaned in annoyance for being forced to go to my next class: ceramics.

Sure, I enjoyed art, just like the next person, but in reality I suck at it. Horribly. Anytime my pencil touched the paper to draw or my hands handled clay, I just ruin the creation I had in my mind. Jiro just tells me I don't have a creative bone in my body and should stick to cars. Yeah, I'm a car girl. Big deal, I enjoy restoring the old hunks of shit back into their gorgeous, original form.

As I moved to head to my next class, I first stopped by Amoy to slap the back of her head. This caused her to sit up quickly and swing her arms around to hit someone.

"Who the fuc-Oh." She mumbled, as she noticed the classroom practically empty. She looked at Jiro and I as we stood in front of her.

"C'mon dummy, we have literature." Jiro told her, as she nodded, and rubbed her face.

"Alright, I'll just get the notes for this class from you guys later." She yawned, as Jiro and I rolled our eyes at her. We headed out of the classroom and chatted down the hall, like usual, to the next class. A hand randomly slapped down on my shoulder while I walked, as it broke me from the little bubble I created with my friends. I looked at the person who touched me with a dirty look, about to ask them if they were interested in a black eye, but quickly stopped myself. My face quickly changed, as I put on a smile for the person that grabbed my attention.

"Mr. Groth, how can I help ya today?" I asked, as my principal looked at me.

"I need you to show a new student around the school. Since I know you've been the one blowing up your projects in the kiln, think of this as a way of me not getting you in trouble." He said, as my face paled a bit. Amoy began to laugh loudly behind me, as I glared at her sharply over my shoulder.

"Well! You shouldn't put your initials on the bottom of the pot if you don't wanna get in trouble." Jiro mumbled, as this caused Amoy to laugh more.

"Well, have fun showing the new student around! I have more slee-studying! Studying to do in my next class!" Amoy quickly corrected, as Mr. Groth raised a brow at her. Amoy frantically said goodbye, grabbed Jiro, and dragged him down the hall with her.

I looked back at Mr. Groth, as he let go of my shoulder and motioned towards the main office. I grumbled a few color words under my breath, and trudged my way to the office.

'Probably some shy newbie or a jerk, since they were forced to move during their senior year.' I thought to myself, as I stepped through the office doors.

But the sight in front of me...Well...Definitely wasn't a sight I expected to send shocks through my body and to leave my mouth slightly ajarred.

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