“Yo! Wyatt!”

One quick move, and he met his childhood friend between a set of well-graffitied lockers-Jill and Jordan 4-ever and Cate loves Sam the most prominent of the numerous tokens of love scribed in magic marker of various colors.

“Man!” Out of breath, Stuart leaned over, placed his hands on his knees. His hair shook as his chest heaved. He twisted backward to lean against the wall and held one finger out, sliding it down to Wyatt’s face. “Dude! Did you see her?”

Head cocked, Wyatt squinted. In the course of his ten-yard walk, he’d bumped into, waved at or said ‘hello’ to a dozen or more students-a number of them of the female variety. Some he’d recognized; others he figured were underclassmen not worthy of his acknowledgement.

“Oh, c’mon, man! That girl! The hot one.”

Wyatt shook his head.

“Oh my god, man! You so totally missed it. Her. She. Oh man, she is smokin’!” Stuart slapped his palm against his thigh. Head against the metal, he turned to Wyatt. “You really didn’t see her?”

“I have no idea who you’re talking about.” To have missed new-hot-girl broke their sworn code-always share when the worthy appear.

“Kevin said, that Cam said, that Jen said she’s from Sweden or something,” Stuart said.

At once, Wyatt remembered. His high school had accepted a one-month exchange student from New Zealand.

“She’s here? Already?” He hadn’t expected her until after lunch-his fourth-period study hall-which turned into a daily bitch-and-moan session with his fellow seniors. The plan had been to greet their visitor and give her an honorable, if vivacious, West High welcome.

At Stuart’s nod, Wyatt threw his backpack over his shoulder, slammed his palm into Jill’s scrawled name, and with a quick yell of ‘Gotta go!’, took off. One ‘Where’s the fire?’ and a number of apologies later, he reached the main office.