(Matt) 

I turned over to my bed, looking at my alarm clock resting on my nightstand. 

I sat up, stretching with a yawn. I throw on my shirt that my mom had placed on the foot of my bed. 

My breakfast, as usual, is on my desk. 

I eat it quickly, grabbing my messenger bag from my desk chair. 

I walk out into the main hall, barely acknowledging the servants bustling about the place. I snatch my car keys off the marble counter, heading outside to my car. 

I open the driver door, swinging inside. I started it, pulling out of my driveway. I drove off to school, not paying much attention to the road. I park in the lot, noticing my usual crowd of friends in the front lot. I step out and they immediately run over to me. 

"Hey, Matt~," Jenny said, batting her eyelashes. She's wearing her usual: some short crop top, and a midi skirt that reaches above her knee. 

"Hey," I internally roll my eyes. She's been obsessed with dating me since grade school, probably for my money or popularity. 

"How was your day?" She asked in a singsong voice which made me want to throw up. 

"Good," I answered in the most monotone voice I could muster.

"Well mine was great, thank you for asking," She grumbled. 

The school bell rang and I started to head inside, ignoring the large crowd that is always following me. I made my way to my locker, still ignoring the people throwing morning greetings my way. 

I feel something or someone, bump into my chest. I look down.

He stares up at me with a "does it look like I give one fuck" expression. His most shocking features are his eyes: The left one is a silvery blue and the right one is a piercing greenish-blue. He has a long neck and small shoulders than sunk in with the oversized hoodie he was wearing. He was really skinny not to mention, and with his shortness, he looked like an edgy fourteen-year-old on steroids. 

He also has shoulder-length black hair to add to the look. 

"Sorry," He mumbles with zero remorse. I notice that his nails are painted with black that's already scratching off. 

I roll my eyes. 

He looks up at me again, putting a hand on his hip. 

"What?" 

This smol child has lots of sass. 

"Nothing," I scoff. 

He raises an eyebrow at me. 

"Okay fine," He turns and leaves with a flourish. 

I silently glare at his back because for some reason it makes my blood boil.

"I can feel that!" He shouts from around the corner.