Title: Living Up To Expectations

Summary: Neither one of them fit in except with, well maybe, each other.

Chapter One

Some stories start out with a bang or an eye-catching sentence that draws you in. "In the beginning, God created the earth…" begins the first captivating chapter of what is said to be the highest selling book in history. Openings like that one draws the reader in. It's the first shot of heroin that sends them on the roller coaster of addiction. It's what causes the reader to anxiously turn each page with arousing suspense. It's what causes a reader to want to read the story more than once. Maybe even more than twice if the opening is good enough. My story, however, does not start out with a bang for an opening. Instead it starts out with a sunny day in the middle of March a few years ago. It was my senior year and everything was going to go well. I could just tell. I had already been accepted into my top choice University and in a few short months I would be graduation from the purgatory I called Clinton High. So far the second semester had been going exceedingly well. I had made the Councilor's list with all As and was soaring right through. Heck, I even had made myself less of a social disgrace by joining the poetry club. Things couldn't have been going better. That is, until I met him.

He had gone to Clinton since Freshman year but we had never socialized. That was partly due to me being a walking social disorder. I don't like people much. In fact, I'd be just happy if I lived alone in the world with my notebook and pen. That would actually be a utopia for me but highly unlikely. So I just walked through life ignoring the heinous miscreants I called my peers. So it wasn't strange that we had never spoken. I think there was only a few people I actually shared conversations with a Clinton one being Parker, my older brother who was not quite what I'd call a cup of tea and a picnic and of course Hillary, my best friend and closest confidant. She was the only one that would tolerate my drabbling about school, life, and mediocrity. So of course, I had never actually talked to him. Sure, I had seen him in the halls but everyone did. He kind of…stood out, you know? Like a sore thumb. Like me.

The first time we actually talked was because I had dumped a pudding cup on his head but we'll get to that in a moment. The point is, our story is pretty drab in the starting so bare with it and I promise it'll get a bit more interesting. Just tolerate me for a bit about then and then we'll get to the juicy stuff like the pudding cup. But first, I must take you through the mediocre drab that was my usual day. Then I promise, we'll get to the pudding cup. Just hold on for a bit. And if you think he didn't deserve it, I'll just tell you now – he totally did!