HEAD OVER HEELS. HANKY-PANKY

CALIFORNIA: SAN FRANSCISCO. TIME: 8:00AM, MONDAY. THE ANDERSON’S MANSION, EMORY’S ROOM. EMORY’S POV. "I lay there, trying to recall the dream that had vanished with the morning light, leaving only a lingering sense of unease." "s**t, same dream again," I thought, my mind still foggy from the lingering images. The familiarity of the recurring nightmare unsettled me. I reached for my phone on the shelf beside my bed, and my eyes widened as the time registered. 'f**k, it's 8:00Am already.' Panic set in; I was going to be late for school. I hurriedly got down from the bed and made the bed without caring if it’s properly made and ran into the bathroom to shower. As I stood under the shower, the water cascading down my body, I couldn't shake the dread. "The girls are going to be mad at me," I thought, my anxiety simmering. I closed my eyes, letting out a frustrated sigh. Mondays were always a struggle, and this one was shaping up to be particularly miserable. I could only hope those annoying guys in school wouldn't make it worse. My mind drifted back to the disturbing dream that still lingered in my memory. "While stepping out of the bathroom, I pondered my outfit. 'What am I going to wear?' I wondered. Opening my wardrobe, I was greeted by a sea of options, and I shook my head in indecision. At that moment, my gaze settled on sleek crop top and distressed jeans. Just then, my subconscious piped up, 'Must you always provoke the guys, knowing you're not going to give them a chance?' I couldn't help but laugh inwardly, responding with a defiant, 'Yes, of course!'" After exiting my room, I checked my sister's room, only to find it empty—as expected. She was always the early bird, which explained why she was Mum's favorite, leaving me to play the role of the rebellious one. Coming Downstairs, I poked my head into the kitchen, where Rosita was whipping up breakfast. "Good morning," I said. "Morning, Ma'am Emory," Rosita replied. "You'll be having omelet and black coffee today. Madam has already left for work." Rosita always speaking before asked. Following breakfast, I departed the house and made my way to the garage, where a sleek assortment of cars awaited. Drawn to the vibrant red hue of my favorite vehicle, I slid my hand into my pocket, extracted the keys, and settled into the driver's seat. Noticing my Dior handbag already resting on the passenger seat, I smiled, attributing the thoughtful gesture to Rosita. Silently thanking her, I ignited the engine and pulled out of the garage as the gate-keeper opened the gate. I ran my hand through the stereo settings, searching for the perfect tune. My favorite song, "Me and Love Don't Get Along" by Tatiana Manaois, popped up, and I couldn't help but sing along. "'We were never meant to be, I think we both knew that from the start'... I belted out the lyrics, feeling Tatiana's words resonate deep within. "'Love, you were my poison, I was your antidote'... The song's haunting melody echoed through my car, harmonizing with my emotions. As I drove, lost in the music, I let go of my worries, surrendering to Tatiana's soulful voice. "'We were fire and ice, burning out, fading fast'... The lyrics poured out of me like a confession, freeing my thoughts. Howell High School. As I pulled into the school garage, I spotted my best friends, Rachael and Riana, stepping out of their car. Rachael Carson, daughter of business mogul Carson Simon and Rebecca Carson, caught my eye first. Her stunning beauty and voluptuous figure always turned heads. A total foodie, she somehow managed to maintain her flawless physique. Rachael was the self-appointed mother hen of our group, always ready to defend us. Her confidence and protective nature made her a formidable force. Next to her, Riana Lucas, daughter of renowned engineer Lucas Reuben and entrepreneur Jane Lucas, exuded s*x appeal with her slender, perfect figure. Known for bringing the hottest gossip, Riana was the group's resident "lover girl." Her constant giggling and texting had me rolling my eyes, suspecting she was communicating with her boyfriend, Oscar – a guy I downright despised. Thankfully, we were all 17 and shared an unbreakable bond, making our friendship even more special. As we strolled down the school hall, guys couldn't help but drool over us, but they dared not approach, especially me. As we walked into class, the loud noise from our senior class (12th grade) enveloped us. I could hear students murmuring about the new part-time teacher replacing our English teacher, who had just given birth. I hoped it wasn't a male teacher, I thought, as the girls and I sat down to discuss a night club outing I had planned. "Monday and parties go together, don't you think?" I said, grinning. Rachael raised an eyebrow. "I don't know why you always ask us to do crazy things." I laughed out loud. Riana turned to me and asked, "We're using our fake IDs again, right?" "Of course, duh!" I replied. Just then, the principal walked in, and the students stood up to greet him. "Good morning, Mr. Principal," we chimed. He replied, "Good morning, students. You may take your seats." I sat down without waiting for him to finish, and Rachael rolled her eyes at me. I mouthed "what?" and she shook her head. Lost in my phone, scrolling through an online shopping mall, I heard the principal ask someone to enter. The students murmured, "He's handsome." I couldn't care less. Rachael whispered, "He's handsome." Riana tapped me, and I raised my head, smiling. "What?" "Look at our new English teacher," she said, nudging me. I glanced up, and our eyes locked by accident. He smiled at me. "f**k, he's hot," I cursed under my breath.