The harsh wind slaps my cheeks, making me hug my coat tighter around my body.

I can see my breath in front of me as I stare down at the dirty pavement, counting the squished chewing gum that has been dropped onto the pavement, like I do every morning on my way to school.

Reaching the neatly manicured garden of my best friend, Kai, I send him a text as I lean against his fence. My text comes out misspelled due to the wool gloves I have on. I frown at my phone, not bothering to correct the mistake as I slide it back into my coat pocket, tucking my hands underneath my armpits, attempting to contain as much of my body heat as I can.

"Hey, hi, hello," my best friend of eight years greets me, holding not one, but two steel containers of what I'm guessing is his mother's freshly brewed coffee.

Kai has been a major part of my life. He is tall; taller than me and nearly skinnier, too. His lanky arms fall down his sides, looking almost unnaturally long compared to the rest of his body. He has pale skin that burns quickly in direct sunlight and a distinct freckle on his face that has been there ever since I first met him. He has round, brown eyes and cute, long lashes that darkly frame his eyes, which are covered by the thick-rimmed glasses he often wears. He has a dark, navy coat on and matching navy gloves that have been worn so much that they're thinning in some parts.

He pushes his glasses up his nose with his thumb before handing me a tin of coffee. I grin at him thankfully, clutching the warm vessel to my chest.

"Mm, I can already taste it," I murmur eagerly.

He smiles in return, taking a sip, before spitting it out dramatically. He makes a yelp sound as he does.

"I told you not to drink it yet!" I hear his mother sternly yell out from the kitchen window.

"Hi Mrs A," I greet her with a friendly wave.

"Hello Ellie," she smiles back, before disappearing back into the kitchen.

"Note to self: the coffee is hot," Kai mutters, slinging his bag onto his shoulder.

Tucking a loose piece of my blond hair that has escaped my braid behind my ear, I fall in step with Kai as we begin the short trek to school.

As Kai launches into a story about the T.V show he is currently watching, I absently watch my breath swirl in front of me, not paying much attention to Kai's rambling. He does this most mornings and it's always about a topic I have no interest in. He loves the sound of his own voice.

We continue the route to my next best friend's house – Heidi. The third and final member of our trio. I pull my phone out as we near her front yard, managing to correctly spell this time.

"Should have texted her when you were back at my place, then she might actually be on time," Kai states with an eye roll.

"Good point."

I glance at the time on my phone, knowing that we need to be on our way now, otherwise we will be late.

"Sorry, sorry," Heidi apologies as she hurries down her driveway, her messy, auburn hair spilling across her face, her school bag swinging off her shoulder.

"You're a mess," I say, holding my hand out as she tosses her bag towards me, quickly throwing her hair into a bun that somehow looks neat and like she put effort into it. She has a gift of naturally looking beautiful, even though she goes out of her way to be messy, late and disorganised.

I carry her bag most of the way as she frantically smooths over her appearance and stopping to tie her shoelaces up once.

We arrive at school, surprisingly, with about five minutes or so spare. I make a beeline straight to my locker, the heat from the hallway and classrooms already sending warm waves through the corridor. Once entering my code, I slip out of my woolen jacket, neatly placing it inside the locker. Using my mirror stuck onto my door, I give my appearance a once-over.

My blond hair was neatly tied back into a braid, some of it having escaped loose on the windy walk to school. I run my light-pink coloured nails over my scalp, trying unsuccessfully, to pin back the unruly tendrils that keep sneaking out of their designated areas.

I re-join Kai and Heidi a few moments later, my History textbook already in my bag.

"Incoming," Heidi mutters. "Adios, kids."

She quickly bails and I cringe, knowing all-too-well that Mrs Grainger, our year coordinator, must be on the prowl again. She often targets me, knowing I am too polite to say no to her annoying requests. Heidi is smarter than us – always being on the lookout and spotting her before either Kai or I do. Kai flatly refuses to her face and somehow gets away with it and then there's me, who gets stuck doing the task.

"Ellie! Kai! Just the two I was looking for," her perky voice chirps, making me grimace.

I turn slowly, a forced smile finding its way onto my face.

"Good morning Mrs Grainger," I greet, silently hoping she isn't going to ask me to do something for her.

I notice immediately that her red lipstick is smeared on the upper left corner of her mouth and that her right eyelashes are far longer than her left. She seems to be half-asleep when she does her makeup in the morning, as these mistakes occur daily.

"I have a favour to ask the both of you," she begins with a bright smile.

"Nope," Kai flatly replies, before spinning on his heel and marching away from us, just as the warning bell rings.

I can't help but sigh, watching him retreat, wishing I could withdraw my textbook out of my bag and throw it at the back of his head.

"Well, just you then," she continues with an unwavering smile, already knowing that was going to happen.

"What is it?"

"We have a new student enrolled and I just don't have the time to show him around," she explains, even though we both know she has a double free this morning. "Could you?"

"I guess," I reply unenthusiastically. I am always the one to show the new kid around. "Can you sign a late slip for me?"

"Of course!" she pulls out a slip and initialling it with a lazy scrawl, before passing it over.

I grab it from her hands, trying not to show my annoyance. "Is he at the office?"

"Yes," she smiles. "Good luck."

She quickly trots away and I mull over her word choice of 'good luck'. Shaking my head, I begin walking to the office, a scowl on my face. Mrs Grainger is the laziest and possibly the worst teacher I've ever experienced. She doesn't make sense half the time and dishes out her tasks to unwilling students, like myself, because she can't be bothered to do them.

I get to the office door and my eyes widen when I see the unfamiliar boy, leaning against the counter. I blink a few times, shocked at how devastatingly handsome he is. He is attractive in a rugged sort of way, having long dark hair, pulled into a small bun on the back of his neck. He has smooth, unblemished skin with the slight form of stubble appearing over his razor-sharp jawline. He has alarmingly prominent cheekbones and a soft dimple on his left cheek. His eyes are a pale blue, the type of blue that makes you not want to look away.

He looks so different to anyone else I've seen at this school. Most of the guys here have the short-cropped hair, preppy clothes style and the 'golden boy' look. This guy, however, is the total opposite.

Shaking my head, I open the door, still shocked at the look of him. He looks old – not much older than me, but he must be. He has a lean frame, being well-over 6ft tall, with broad shoulders, even though he's wearing a thick coat.

His eyes flicker to me as he hears the door open. I stand there awkwardly, realising I don't even know his name.

"Er- hi. I'm Ellie. I've been asked to show you around," I introduce myself, offering the stranger a polite smile.

He gives me an impassive look, not saying anything.

"Here is your class schedule, Mr Haze." The receptionist, Dorean, says to him, passing over a laminated piece of paper, containing a timetable of his classes for the semester.

He takes the slip of paper, not sparing her a glance as he pushes from the bench and out the door. His cologne washes over me and I smile slightly, really liking the smell of it.

"Haze?" I say to him as a conversation starter. "That's a really interesting name. I've never heard of it before."

"Yeah." He bluntly replies, squinting down at his schedule. "It's my surname."

His cheeks are flushed from the heat and his dark hair wind-blown, with bits of it falling out if his messy bun.

"Oh! Do you mind me asking what your first name is?"

"I do, actually," came his flat, monotone response.

I raise my eyebrows at his attitude and decide not to speak any more on the subject.

"We should find your locker – you'll overheat in that coat" I suggest, holding out my hand. "May I?"

He stares down his nose at me for a moment, before passing the slip over.

"Hey! Your locker is near mine!" I exclaim excitedly.

He gives me a deadpan expression, not mirroring my excitement. I don't let it dimmer my own as I lead him towards our lockers.

I punch his code in for him, the door swinging open with a slight creak.

He slides his bag off his shoulder, it landing with a thud against the floor. He shrugs out of his coat and my breath catches in my throat. I take a step back as my eyes land on the dark ink covering both of his arms. I can't control my hand as it flies to my mouth, my eyes raking over the dark symbols and swirls.

"What?" he snaps, glaring at me. "Never seen a tattoo before?"

I blink, realising how rude my gasp would have sounded. I clear my throat, fidgeting with my scarf.

"Of course I have, I just didn't expect you to have so many." I carefully tell him, still unable to remove my eyes from his ink quite yet.

He carelessly tosses his coat into the locker, before pulling out a pair of fingerless gloves and yanking them over his hands.

Clearing my throat, I glance down to the gloves. "I've always found them a bit pointless. My fingertips are the parts of my hands that always get the coldest – why buy a pair of gloves when they don't keep your fingers warm?"

He quirks a dark eyebrow at me, looking unimpressed at my question.

I smile. "What?"

He shakes his head, his face impassive. "Nothing."

"Want me to give you a tour?" I ask, silently rolling the end of my scarf as I wait for his answer.

"Not really. I'm sure I'll figure it out."

"Well, is there anything else I can help you with?" I question. "I imagine starting a new school can be quite daunting."

"I'm good," he rudely replies.

I ignore his hostility, pulling his schedule from his hands.

"Oh, you have History first! I'm in the class, too. I'll lead the way," I continue in a cheery voice.

He lets out a sigh, snatching the schedule from me and jamming it into his bag.

"So, where did you move from?" I ask as we make our way to H Block.

"You don't need to do this," he deadpans. "After you show me the way, you don't have to speak to me again."

"That's a rude thing to say, considering I'm your first friend." I point out, feeling the corners of my mouth tug down.

"I don't have friends," he snaps as we mount the stairs.

"How can you survive without friends?"

"Friends are pointless. There's no point making any."

My eyebrows raise as I give him a sidelong glance. "That's a dark thing to say, Mr Haze. Hey, why don't you want to tell me your first name?"

"None of your business. Quit with the questions."

"The less you answer, the more I'll want to know," I sing.

He glares at me.

"We're here," I announce when the thick wooden door of the History classroom greets us.

"Thank God," he mutters.

I open the door and the class falls silent as we walk in. I go over to Mr Heath, giving him my late slip and briefly explaining that we have a new student.

"Ah yes, Mr Haze. Welcome to Alwood High, take a seat, we can save the introduction for later."

Haze, which is what I'm calling him from now on, gruffly walks to a table near the back, his shoulders slumped, seemingly unaffected by everyone's gaze being on him. He takes a seat, flicking his dark hair back from his eyes.

I make the rash decision of sitting beside him. As I head towards his desk, he blatantly places his bag on the chair beside him. I ignore it, peeling it from the chair and placing it beside the table.

"I don't need any more of your persistent questions." He whispers, although his voice is so deep, it hardly counts as a whisper.

"Shh," I tell him with a grin. "Class has started."

He groans quietly, turning from me and glaring out the window. He takes no notes throughout the lesson and doesn't move from his position of looking outside.

"So, Haze-" I begin but he hastily gets to his feet and pushes past me.

I let out a huff as he disappears out the door, before anyone else.

"Ellie," a new voice interrupts my thoughts. Caden Fletcher – my kind of ex-boyfriend – I guess you can call him, wanders over to me. He has light olive skin, hazel-nut coloured hair, with wisps of golden sun-streaks through it. I was always interested in Caden, thinking he was gorgeous and so nice. Turns out, he isn't. "Who's that freak?"

"New guy," I tell him, choosing to ignore the 'freak' comment.

"Name?"

"Not sure, his last name is Haze."

"Haze," he says slowly. "Weird name."

"Mm," I mumble in agreement with a shrug, gathering my things.

"Probably best to stay clear of him," he informs me with a nod, before striding from the room to catch up with his mates.

Since we basically dated, Fletcher has made constant effort to dictate my life – by telling me who I should and shouldn't hang out with, what I should wear and how I should spend my time. It is beyond frustrating that he thinks he has some claim over me.

Heidi and Kai lope over to me. Heidi has a smirk on her face and Kai's eyes are wide behind his glasses.

"Who and what is that boy?" Heidi asks with an excited grin.

I smile back at her and shrug.

"I have no idea, but I'm interested to find out."