Outside our classroom window, I saw an olive green beat-up Jeep pulling into an empty space in the student parking lot. I had to squint but noticed a WWF sticker on the front bumper. The driver-side door opened and a guy got out, wearing a vintage brown leather motorcycle jacket, torn jeans, and black hiking boots. He walked into the school building. A few moments later, the bell rang to change classes.

When I arrived at English class, I found my desk occupied. The guy in the vintage leather jacket was riffling through his backpack and placing a notebook on my desktop. In Mrs. Clark’s class the students weren’t seated in alphabetical order, or any other order for that matter, but rather we elected to take a desk where we wanted. Since school began, I sat in row six, first chair from the window. Abby sat next to me and Ivy next to her. Their boyfriends and Nash sat along the row nearest to the door.

When I noticed the stranger sitting in my seat, I didn’t know what to do. I preferred to sit by my friends, but he was a new student and I wasn’t about to tell him to move — I just didn’t think it was polite. Instead, I chose an empty chair in the back.

Ivy spotted the stranger sitting in my seat and took it upon herself to confront the situation.

“That’s okay—” I tried to say, but my words weren’t heard.

“Excuse me, that desk is already taken,” she said abrasively. Ivy got very territorial when it came to breaking up our clique. But it was okay with me. I could survive a day sitting on my own.

The new guy opened his notebook and looked up at the blond girl hovering over him, scolding him as if she were the teacher. I was hoping Ivy wasn’t going to make a fuss. The new student would probably have moved had she been polite, but it seemed as if it was too late.

I hid behind my textbook. For a moment Ivy wasn’t as confident as she was when she first approached him. I hoped this meant she was going to soften and either apologize or just return to her seat.