[COLOR=blue][INDENT][B][SUP][SUB][H3]E V A N D E R  D A R I O[/H3][/SUB][/SUP][/B][/INDENT][hr][/COLOR][INDENT][sup]Social Conscience, Mather Memorial High School[/sup][/INDENT]

It was Evander's style to let others speak first before he answered, especially in more personal questions like these mostly because he didn't know what to say. However, Mr. Lehrer had started to speak against them leaving the ice-powered male to just lean back on his chair. He then took another peek around the class. He still couldn't tell what exactly this place was. There were popular students, honor kids, the vice president, infamous students... This was a class given to them, meaning they were chosen. But for what reason? To force them to interact with each other?

Bring something that would show who he was? Evander doesn't know himself all too well. Hm, maybe he should ask Emily about it? She would probably joke around and tell her to being some ice, because he was so cold... literally and metaphorically. But that would be the only thing the ice would signify. First day and he already had something to worry about. Great. Just great. He looked down at his closed gloved hand. He then opened it again and smiled as he created the small ball of ice.

The door opened prompting him to close his hand and look at the student who had just arrived. Sebastian Scott. Evander didn't know what to think of him. Then again, the two never spoke. Evander doubted they ever will if things continued on normally without this class. He knew he would be forced to talk with the guy. He wasn't looking forward to it all that much. Perhaps it was because of the rumors he heard of him or because Emily just wants to avoid the guy completely. 

He saw as everyone grouped up. Ah crap. He would always be picked last in these kinds of things, and he was right. Four was already gone, that girl named Winter took Kenneth and the other popular one, Brynn. That left him with...

He approached Tavia and rubbed the back of his neck as he spoke, [color=blue]"Er, looks like you're stuck with me. Or maybe we'd have to join up with another group."[/color] Gods he hated started conversations. Or conversations in general. It feels forced, awkward, whenever he was the one who started it. Well, it was forced, somewhat. It's an unfortunate side-effect of not having too much friends to talk to and the only friend who does talk to you tends to start and guide the conversation.