Nick Jonas in Hiding in the Open: Part One: The Beginning -- Chapter One: Falling

It was freshman year of high school. I walked up to the big school, almost scared stiff. Will people

accept me? Will I make friends? Who will I be? I take a deep breath and walk up to the doors. They

creak as I open them, awkwardly heavier than I anticipated. I stumbled against the weight and almost

trip. Thankfully I catch myself before I fall. But then the weight of my backpack forces me off balance

again. I start to fall again. Oh, great. What a way to start off the school year. I think as I’m falling.

But then something took me by surprise. I was caught. I felt big strong arms lifting me upward and

setting me on my feet. I blink away the shock and find the most beautiful, god-like guy with piercing

lavender-blue eyes and light brownish red hair holding me in his arms.

“You okay?” he asks, letting go.

“Y-y-yeah.” I manage to stutter. My mouth is now completely dry.

“Those doors are heavier than they look. It took me most of my freshman year to remember that.” he

said shooting me a dazzling smile.

“Yeah, I think I’m going to remember now. I don’t want a repeat of that.” I said, surprising myself that I

could talk in full sentences. He laughed lightly. I melted on the spot.

“My name’s Bret.” he said, sticking out a hand. “Yours is…”

“Mickayla. But it’s spelled differently than the normal way.” I said out of habit.

“Oh? And how is it spelled.” he asked intrigued.

“M-I-C-K-A-Y-L-A.” I said.

“That’s a cool way to spell it.” he said.

“Yeah, cool if you’re not named it. I always have to tell people how to spell my name. My parents

couldn’t spell it the normal way. They just had to make my life just that more difficult.” I said partially

sarcastic. I actually like the way I spell my name.

“Well, I like it.” he said. “Least your parents have creative initiative. My parents stuck to B-R-E-T. Not

with two T’s or any thing that’d be considered different. Just plain and boring.”

“No, it’s great.” I said. And of course, right on time, the bell rings.

“Oh there’s the bell. Don’t want to be late on the first day of high school now do ya?” he said.

“No wouldn’t want that.” I say.

“Well, I’ll see you around… Mickey.” he said turning to go.

“Mickey?” I ask.

“Yeah, it’s my nickname for you. Mickayla, Mickey.” he said smiling.

“Oh, I like that.” I said. “Thanks. For the nickname… and for catching me.”

“My pleasure.” He smiled and went on his way, leaving me in a daze. Crap. How am I going to focus in

class? Oh class! I looked at my schedule in my hand. English. Room 102. Phew. 1st floor. How’s

that for luck? But apparently my luck for the morning had been spent. I ran to class before I was too

late. But by the time I got there, all of the seats were taken except for the one in front. And of course

the teacher, Mr. Zeek, had to put me on the spot.

“Ah, you must be Ms. Reese.” he said.

“Um, yes.” I said.

“I take attendance before the bell rings. So you should be here at 8:55 instead of 8:59 if you don't want

to be written up as tardy. But since it’s the first day, I’ll let it slide. But only this once.” he said.

“Oh thank you… Mr. Zeek.” I said.

“You may take your seat now which will be your seat for the rest of the year.” he said. I slid

embarrassedly into my seat. The morning went on somewhat similarly, but thankfully no more speeches

directed specifically to me from teachers. I was so relieved when the lunch bell rang. How am I going

to make it through the year if I can’t make if even a day? I thought. I walked into the enormous

cafeteria. I picked up a tray and joined the line. Then someone came up to me and hip bumped me.

“Hey Mickey.” I turned to see Bret.

“Oh hey.” I said, slightly confused. Someone as gorgeous as him, and his age, could not possibly be in a

social ranking that allows talking to freshman as friends. “You’re talking to me?”

“Um yeah.” he said, in a “no-duh” tone.

“Well, aren’t you older than me? You can’t possibly be risking your social status just to talk to me.” I

said.

“Yeah, well… I think you’re worth it.” he said smiling.

“You don’t even know me.” I said.

“Well, there’s only one way to find out and that’s by talking to you.” he answered.

“Touché.” I said.

“So eat lunch with me.” he said.

“Well, I have no one else to eat lunch with, so I guess I could.” I said, pretending that I was some

superstar and he was an insignificant fan. I started walking to a table.

“What was that?” he asked.

“What?” I said, sitting down.

“Why’d you say it like that?” he asked also sitting down.

“Oh, I do that a lot. I role play when I talk sometimes.” I said, eating a carrot.

“Really?” he asked.

“Yep.” I said. “Hey. You said you wanted to get to know me, so I’m showing you who I am. I’m into

drama.”

“Cool. I play football.” he said simply. I almost choked on the carrot.

“You mean you’re a jock?” I asked now even more shocked.

“Um yeah… You say it like it’s bad.” he said.

“No, I say it like ‘Why the hell are you freakin’ talking to me?’” I answered. “First you’re a sophomore

now you’re a j-“

“Junior.” he interrupted.

“What?” I asked.

“I’m actually a junior.” he said. I just stared at him blankly. The realization hit me like a brick.

“Oh, I get it.” I said, coldly.

“Get what?” he asked.

“This is all a joke.” I said. “Great. I can’t believe I fell for this. Actually I can believe I did. God. I’m so

stupid. I should’ve known this was too good to be true.”

“What?” Bret asked impatiently.

“You can cut the crap, Bret. Go ahead and laugh now. How long did you think I’d last? A week? A

month?” I asked.

“What are you talking about?” he asked seeming utterly confused.

“You know perfectly well what I’m talking about. This is just a joke to you. I’m a joke to you.” I said.

“Sure string the poor, gullible freshman along and see what happens. Let’s see how far she believes

that I actually want to be friends with her. Then you and your popular jock and cheerleader friends can

laugh at me.”

“Mickayla, that is not what I’m doing.” he said.

“Sure it isn’t.” I said. “You’re supposed to say that. That way you gain my trust again and tie the string

up like it never broke loose. Then you continue to pull until it breaks again. And you’ll just keep on

tying and tying and tying until I’m only on big mess of a knot and my freshman year is ruined.”

“Wow. You done?” he asked.

“If I were another girl, I would say ‘no’ then dump my lunch on you and then say ‘now I’m done.’ But

I’m not that type of girl so instead I’ll say ‘yes’ and just get up and walk away with my pride.” I did as I

said and walked out of the cafeteria, trying to keep the tears from coming down.

Mickayla’s Outfit: http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=10258676