Serendipity

Serendipity /ˌserənˈdipitē/ - The occurrence and development of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way; a happy accident.

Hannah was a good girl. She kept her grades up, did as her parents said, and avoided any kind of trouble. Yes, Hannah was a good girl. But then she met Harry.

Harry was, in a word, trouble. He had a reputation for hanging with the wrong crowd, as well as his temper. He payed no attention to his grades, and he was a magnet for bad situations.

Two complete opposites; they weren't supposed to mix. Yet, they did, and as the two became completely infatuated with one another, things like avoiding trouble became unimportant to Hannah.

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1. Chapter One

It was a cold overcast Monday, snow falling in light tufts as I made my way to school. I wrapped my coat more tightly around my body as a particularly harsh gust of wind hit me. Again I wished gravely that I had a car of my own, and cursed my parents for preventing me from driving until I was 18.

I could just barely make out my school in the distance through the snow, which had picked up considerably. As I entered the parking lot, a peeling grey truck sped out in front of me, missing me by just a few inches.

“Hey, watch where you’re going dumbass!” The driver of the vehicle shouted at me, sticking his head out his window.

I kept walking through the lot, ignoring the insult, until I heard the crunching of the snow topped quad under my boots. Students were trickling into the building, whilst others sat with cigarettes dangling from their mouths on the brick walls around the school. They belonged to the type of crowd you avoided eye contact with—let alone any actual contact with. Just walking past them into the building, feeling their eyes heavily trained on me, left me uneasy.

Once inside, I headed straight for my locker, dodging any unnecessary small talk. I slipped off my coat and scarf, neatly hanging them inside before pulling out my chemistry book and making my way to class. Just as I closed the door to my locker, a plaid clad junior approached me, a fake smile plastered onto her face.

“Vote me for Prom Queen!” She said gaily. I shrugged and maneuvered my way around her and towards my class. I slipped behind my lab table with literally seconds to spare before the bell chimed loudly throughout the school. Sighing, I slipped my fraying messenger bag off my shoulder and onto the empty stool next to me. I pulled out my textbook, which had to be at least 30 years old, and placed it on the desk in front of me before the teacher, Mr. Larson, began talking.

“Open your books to page 200 and read to 223. When you’re done come get the worksheet from my desk, fill it out, and put it in the bin here.” He droned, pointing with a ruler to a wooden crate on the floor by the solitary window.

I rolled my neck as I cracked open my textbook, inhaling the mildew smell as I began reading about Hydrocarbons. As I was finishing up the first page, I heard the classroom door creak open. I neglected to look up, continuing to read until I heard Mr. Larson mention my name. I looked up nervously to find him pointing me out to a tall boy with curly hair topped with a dark green beanie. The boy lumbered over to my lab table and I gulped as he spoke quietly.

“Move your bag. I’m sitting here.” He stated coldly. I pulled my bag from the seat and dropped it to the floor beside my chair.

“Class, due to certain—err, circumstances, Mr. Styles will be joining our class from next door. He is not to be bothered in any way. Hannah, go get Harry a textbook.”

As I slowly got up to get this Harry a textbook, he shook his head, pulling a brand new looking one from his bag and setting it on the table. Next to it, mine looked like garbage; and I couldn’t help but wonder how he acquired such a nice version of the book.

I jumped as Harry leaned towards me. He smirked knowingly, moving away from me. As he opened his book and tapped the bottom corner, I realized he was checking my textbook for the page number. Letting out a dramatic sigh, I returned to my reading.

 

*  *  *

 

The rest of the school day went by in a blur of obnoxious students, bored teachers and exceptional grades. The only occurrence of any significance was getting bumped into in the cafeteria, resulting in my coffee spilling all over my shirt.

On my walk home, the snow had stopped, but the ground was still covered by at least 4 inches of the stuff. As I turned into my neighborhood, I noticed a group of 4 or so guys slouched against a black van. Hesitantly I kept walking forward, hoping that as I passed the group they would pay me no notice. However, this wasn’t the case.

“You’re that girl from Chem.” A familiar voice exclaimed. I looked up to see that one of the boys was, indeed, Harry. He had that familiar smirk on his face as my eyes shifted nervously from him to my feet. I began quickly walking away, resulting in the snickering of all his friends.

Upon arriving home, I hung my bag up on the hook in the hall before running upstairs to my room, ignoring my mother’s questioning voice as I plopped onto my bed. Running my hands through my shoulder length curls, I closed my eyes, the humiliating confrontation with Harry and his friends replaying in my mind over and over again. My mom knocked a few times on my door, but I ignored her, putting my earbuds in on full volume and staring at the ceiling, trying to think about something—anything—but what had just happened.

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