GIRL: Untitled

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Chapter One: Prologue Oo1

One, two, three, four. One…two…three…four…

The incessant counting in my head (something that, on occasion, annoyed me to no end) ticked on as my feet pounded the trail. It was a dirt trail, the sort with loose gravel that pressed bumps into my Asics as I ran over it. Dust kicked up behind me, and I tried not to think about how my shoes were probably orange by now from it. If I thought about it too much right now, my run would be ruined as I sat on the side of the trail and tried scrubbing the dirt off with nothing but my spit and some pine needles. That would be highly ineffective; thus, thoughts of this sort were best to be…delayed.

I turned a bend and saw the light forming over the tops of the trees across the pond from where I stood smiling. My morning ritual, running the two miles from my home, down the highway, then down the trail my uncles owned to the ‘family pond’ to watch the sunrise, always made me smile. I took a deep breath, catching my stride and sitting on the edge of the pond. It was green, dirty, and the thought of even putting a pinky into its thoroughly polluted waters made me want to be sick. I still sat beside it every morning to watch the sun. The pond and I had a bit of an agreement; we would share the sunrise, but any other contact between us was highly prohibited.

Did that sound weird, me contacting a pond? Well, it happens.

I took another deep breath, relishing in that fact that my lungs slightly burned and itched from the run. It wasn’t nearly as bad now as it had been when I’d started six months ago, though. I literally laughed at the thought of my first run. Well, if we were all being honest here, it wasn’t even much of a run. It was more of a trial run. The driveway of my house is about a quarter of a mile long; I hadn’t even been able to jog it before doubling over in wheezes.

I had to admit, I was proud of myself for being able to run the two miles to the pond every morning. I would jog back, too. I’d slowly built up to my goal, and here it was, complete in its fruition. The thought made me beam even more as the sun peaked even farther above the treetops.

Soon, I decided I should head back home. I stood, dusting off my shorts and legs, before stretching lightly and jogging my way down the trail again. As I watched the trees pass by me, I tried to tune in on everything around me. The one and only thing I loved about growing up in a small town was the nature that surrounded it. The trees, the birds’ chirping, the sound of leaves rustling: these were my focal points as my legs pumped up and down and my arms maintained my balance.

Before I knew it, I was home again. I heard the sound of my mother and Aunt Bea in the kitchen, making breakfast. I walked silently to the doorway. “Morning, Elle,” my mother called to me, looking over her shoulder as she scrambled eggs in front of her. Aunt Bea looked up from her coffee at me, her eyes crinkling as she smiled. I just smiled softly back and waved, moving away from the door to the bathroom so I could get my shower.

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Chapter Two: Prologue Oo2


I sat in the passenger seat of my cousin Nell’s old Toyota as she pulled into the gas station. “I’ll gas up,” she said, handing me a twenty. “Can you go inside and pay for it so she can turn on the pump?” I nodded and got out of the car, letting it slam behind me. Nell whined her disapproval as the gas station’s door closed behind me.

It was hot outside; the cool gas station was a welcome contrast, especially since the AC in Nell’s car had been fried for months. I went to the cashier and told her to put the twenty dollars on Pump Six before turning around to face the rest of the store. It was obviously a slow day; I don’t think I saw anybody else behind the shelves or back by the coolers. I figured Nell and I could do with something cold to drink. Since she was filling up her car with gas, I decided to buy a Coke for each of us. As I wrapped my hands around two bottles of the aforementioned sugary, carbonated goodness, I heard a voice behind me.

“Those are filled with sugar, you know? Not healthy at all.”

I jumped, almost dropping both of the Cokes I held. When I turned around, I almost dropped them again. “I think…I can…deal with that,” I said stupidly, blinking at the owner of the voice. Just a guy, bright blue eyes and nearly platinum blonde hair with a slight build. There was honestly almost something feminine about his body, but his stance and facial expression were all Alpha Male-worthy. None of that stopped him from being, you know, gorgeous. I smiled feebly. “I’m sorry,” I muttered, realizing I was in the way of the cooler. He probably wanted to get a drink of his own, filled with sugar or not. I moved away from the door.

The boy (guy? Man?) chuckled and moved to the cooler beside the one behind me. “I prefer…ah, here it is. Water,” he said, swinging a Dasani bottle in front of my face. I felt that same stupid smile fall on my face, and I found myself laughing quietly with him.

“Health nut?” I asked teasingly, subconsciously leaning on the coolers. His smile turned into a smirk and he leaned on the one beside me.

“Nah. I run. Bad for the wind, you know?” I nodded, knowing all too well.

“I run, too. I still drink Coke like it’s…urm…well, water,” I said, laughing at the inadvertent irony. He smiled at me and held out his hand.

“Colin Wesley.” Colin Wesley. Colin Wesley.

I smiled back at him and shook his hand, only a bit of awkwardness seeping into the action. “Elisabeth Roscoe. My friends call me Elle.”

Colin’s smirk became more pronounced as he leaned away from the coolers; somewhere in the back of my mind, I registered that the bell had rung as the gas station door opened. Footsteps approached. “I’ll see you around, Elisabeth Roscoe.”

“Elle,” I reminded him, and we shared another smile before he walked away and I was faced with an angry Nell, who was muttering about stupid teenagers and the need for a medication that could increase IQ.

“Come on,” she hissed, pulling me away from the coolers and my clouded thoughts.”We have to get home, or don’t you remember what my mom’s like when we’re late for dinner?” I just nodded, closing my eyes against thoughts of Colin. Colin Wesley.

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Chapter Three: Prologue Oo3


“Where the hell have you been?” I froze on my front step, literally feeling my muscles stop in their tracks. A car door slammed, and footsteps approached as I turned around slowly, letting my lips fall easily into the smile I put on so well.

“Babe, hey,” I said, grinning at him. His blue eyes were narrowed and his blonde hair thoroughly disheveled, but at my words and carefree tone I could tell he faltered. He hesitated before moving closer, still looking angry. God, don’t let him be angry…I hate it when he’s angry. “I was out with Nell. She needed help picking out a dress for some party thing one of her college friends is throwing,” I lied easily, waving my hand in the air nonchalantly. I should have called him and told him I wouldn’t be there at the park to meet him at four. I should have gone anyway. I should have done something. Anything. His expression said as much.

I realized my mistake a minute too late – I’d made it seem like what Nell and I had been doing was unimportant, yet I’d left him at the park by himself for it. He thought…He thinks I prioritize him as unimportant…

Fuck. It. All.

“No call? No fucking anything? Really, Elisabeth?” He’d never called me Elle. Always Elisabeth. I kind of liked it, but it unnerved me at the same time. I kept my mouth shut, watching him closely. When I didn’t answer him, he sighed heavily and looked up at me, the anger gone for now. “I was worried about you. I mean, it’s late,” he said softly, cupping my cheek with his hand and smiling slightly. An invisible force pulled up the ends of my own lips, and soon his lips were on mine, one of his bi-polar kisses that started out slow and gentle, but ended up far rougher than I preferred.

“I-I’m sorry,” I said quietly once he’d released me. His eyes studied me critically before he moved away. The coldness that came with the absence of his warmth chilled me, and I shivered. He ignored that and turned away, walking back to his car. After he was seated inside, he looked at me, said a simple “goodnight,” and drove away. I watched after him for a minute before I heard the telltale creak of the front door behind me.

“Elle, baby? Are you alright? Was that Colin?”

I didn’t tear my eyes away from the spot where his taillights had disappeared until I felt her presence right behind me. “Yeah, Ma.” I turned around and looked at her, smiling the same smile I’d given Colin not ten minutes earlier. “I’m alright.”

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Chapter Four: Prologue Oo4


The music was loud as I walked across the room to where my friend Jenny stood with her boyfriend, Eric. She was my best friend aside from Nell, and she had weaseled her way into my house the other day to convince me to go to a party with her.

“You need to go somewhere without Colin. C’mon, just this once.”

So here I stood, awkward in the clothes she’d forced me into and wishing I was somewhere else entirely. Not necessarily with Colin – just somewhere. Thoughts I didn’t want entered my head as I realized I wasn’t keeping myself occupied enough. I needed to get out of here. I just needed to leave.

“Ellie, baby! C’mere, girl! I missed you!” Jenny giggled. I eyed the red cup in her hand (how cliché could one get?) as she pulled me into a nearly-drunken hug. How was she drunk already? And had she forgotten that she was with me, what, thirty minutes ago? I let the annoyed thoughts overtake me, letting them replace everything else that threatened to infiltrate the forefront of my mind.

“I want to leave,” I said, surprised at how steady my voice was. Jenny’s face looked utterly confused, momentarily distracted as Eric, seemingly also drunk, started playing with her hair. “Stop it,” I snapped at him. His hands fell to his sides and he raised his eyebrows.

“Whatever, Elle. What’s crawled up your ass?” His voice annoyed me even more. I was grateful.

Thank you, Eric.

“Nothing’s crawled up my ass, Eric,” I hissed, my eyes narrowed. Jenny watched us, her brow furrowed.

“You want to leave?” she asked me slowly, my nod being her reassurance. “O-okay, Eric? Is Ja-“

“No,” Eric said quickly, glancing at me. “I actually like Elle, I’m not letting her ride home with that asshole.” Aw, Eric. I’m positively touched.

“But, babe, he’s your cousin. He’s not that bad.” Jenny was now frowning at her boyfriend disapprovingly.

He disregarded her mood and snorted his amusement. “To you, maybe, because he thinks he has a shot if we ever don’t work out.” Eric chose that moment to smile down at Jenny, who forgot her argumentative side and smiled dreamily back. (Agh, God, gag me, please.) They leaned in for a kiss, but I cleared my throat, eyebrows raised.

“I’ll just walk home.” Jenny opened her mouth to protest, but I held up a hand. “I live, like, five minutes away, Jen. It’s fine.” She frowned at me again. (Note to self: Tell Jenny that her Drunken Concerned face looks like a retarded chipmunk.) I just sighed and gave her a quick hug, kissing her cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow, darling. Have fun. And you, keep her out of trouble,” I added sternly to Eric, wagging a finger at him. He beamed and nodded, putting an arm around Jen’s waist as I moved away.

“Sure, thing, boss.”

Outside, it was clear and chilly, but not cold. I wrapped my jacket around my torso as I walked briskly down the sidewalk. Some stragglers from the party roamed the street, and I idly wondered why none of the neighbors had called the police yet. This neighborhood was mostly older people except for a few, and my only reasonable guess was that they were all peacefully unaware in their age-induced slumber.

“Get in.” I was brought from my thoughts by the voice, so familiar yet so unfamiliar at the same time. I turned my head to see Colin in his faded dark blue car, staring at me with a hardened expression. “Party didn’t work out?” he asked mockingly as I opened the passenger side door and sat beside him.

“Not really my scene,” I said lamely, closing the door. Before we could say anything else, he sped off.

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Chapter Five: Prologue Oo5


“Baby, why didn’t you tell me? Why’d I have to find out like this?” I was curled up on my side, paralyzed. Well, maybe not literally, but it sure felt like it. Ma was sitting beside me, smoothing my hair away from my face. Across the room, Nell lay in her bed, snoring. That’s what summer does to a person, right? Lots of sleep and sun and fun? Maybe. It was just the beginning, anyway.

I couldn’t move. I was terrified of what she would say to me. She seemed so…angry, maybe? Or annoyed, or frustrated? I couldn’t describe what I saw etched on her face because I’d never seen it before. Mom had always been happy, cheerful, and understandingly patient. I’d only seen her cry once, when I was four and walked in on her bent over a picture frame. I never bothered with whatever was in the frame, but the look of sheer sadness on her face had always stuck with me.

Mom was happy. She shouldn’t be…sad like that.

That same expression was somewhere on her face now; I could see it.

I despised it.

“Elle? Sweetheart, please, talk to me! You were screaming for – ”

“Don’t,” I suddenly spat out, sitting up and looking at her. “Just, Ma – don’t, please.” She looked at me blankly before letting out a breath.

“You never told me. You’ve kept this in for how long?” Her eyes were narrowed now, into a familiar expression that made me sigh in relief. Annoyance. I’d seen it so many times when I was younger and even now, as a seventeen-year-old. Finally, home territory. I only tensed again when I realized I had to answer her question.

“Maybe… three months…” I squeezed my eyes shut, waiting for her to explode at me in sheer fury.

This explosion never came. Instead, I felt her arms circle around me, pulling me to her. I automatically let my head fall to her shoulder and breathed in the familiar scent of vanilla air-freshener. Her hands rubbed my back soothingly, and before I knew it, I was sobbing into her, hugging her tightly, never wanting to let go. Her arms were so tight around me that I felt completely safe. “I’ll do whatever I can to make this right, Ellie.”

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Chapter Six: Days of the 'First' Variety


I stood in front of the large brick building, with only one thought: Thank God Mom didn’t decide to move in the middle of the year. I was definitely early – I’d made sure to be as much, to ensure that I wouldn’t have to be the stereotypical New Girl and roam the halls like a puppy with a sock pulled over its eyes all day. I let out an anxious breath before glancing around. It was the first day of school – period. August eleventh. Senior year. Dear God.

I feel old.

I grudgingly started down the sidewalk leading to the large front doors. The grounds were completely empty because, let’s face it, nobody but the weird New Girl goes to school two hours early. Except, this time I wasn’t being expressly weird just for the sake of being weird. I was going into the building with a mission that I was determined to accomplish. I was going to get my schedule from whoever the hell had it and find routes to and from my classes.

First things first: Locate the main office. I entered the school, registering that it was surprisingly clean for a high school as huge as it was. That’s what being in the city does, though, I guess. I grinned at the thought that I was now in the city – where I’d always wanted to be – before realizing that I was, indeed, supposed to be looking for this main office place. I sighed, adjusted my Jansport, and persevered down the hallway.

I went down hallway after hallway, cursing the fact that this damned main office wasn’t where it was supposed to be. (AKA, y’know, near the front doors, maybe. Easy access, people!) Finally, I found the office nestled in the farthest corner from the front doors I’d yet checked, already in a thoroughly bad mood. When I opened the door, a bell rang and a young man at the desk looked up, obviously startled that there was somebody here so early. “Oh, hello,” he said, finally giving up on his confusion and smiling at me. “How may I help you?”

I walked uncertainly to the desk, shooting him a hesitant smile. “Um, I’m…new, this year. Can I get my schedule early?”

I fidgeted while the guy looked through some drawer under his desk. “Name?” he asked, looking up at me with another reassuring smile.

“Elisabeth, with an ‘S.’ Elisabeth Roscoe.”

He came up with a plain manila folder, grinning. “Aha, here we are. Elisabeth Roscoe, coming to us from Walter Jennings High. Is that right?” I smiled and nodded politely. He handed me the folder before leaning back in his rolling chair. “There you go! Have a nice day, kiddo. If you need any help, any at all, you come by the office and ask me. I’m Marcus, by the way,” he said. Marcus seemed really sincere, so I stored that information in the back of my mind and moved away from the desk.

“Thank you,” I said quietly as I left the office.

Now, Objective Two: Find classes and become comfortable enough with the school layout that I don’t begin hyperventilating every time the bell rings. This one seemed much more daunting since I’d spent thirty minutes just looking for the main office. I bit my lip and let out a frustrated breath, wrinkling my nose. C’mon, Elle! You can do it! Yeah!

All I needed was a ‘Go team!’ thrown in there and I’d be a bona fide member of the Skinny Squad.

There was a piece of paper taped beside each door. Upon closer inspection, I realized that the papers showed the teachers, classes, and room numbers. I sighed in relief. “Oh, thank God…”

“New here?” An unfamiliar voice with a familiar clip came up right behind me and I jumped. The voice laughed, and I turned around to see a blonde girl in tight jeans and a name-brand t-shirt. “Sorry about that. You’re new, though? My mom told me there was a New Girl here early, and I mean, I’ve not seen you around, and I know…well, I know pretty much everybody that’s gone to this school.”

“I can see why,” I said, automatically sarcastic, already feeling remorse for my statement as I gave her a relatively polite smile. She seemed nice enough, but teenage girls have a way of hiding who they really are, even inadvertently.

The girl’s smile froze on her face confusedly and her head tilted. Aww, had I interrupted her brain cells from their aimless procreation? What a shame. “I’m…sorry?” she said, frowning. No doubt wondering why I was such a bitter, emotionless bitch. Wait, did I think that out loud? Yes? Damn.

“I’m sorry,” I said, extending my hand for the girl to shake, She warily eyed me for a second before finally accepting my peace offering. “I’m Elisabeth Roscoe.”

The girl finally beamed and nodded her head enthusiastically. “I’m Allison. Where’re you from, Elisabeth?”

“Urm, just a really small town about an hour away,” I said slowly, glancing at her, then at my schedule. I still needed to find all of my classes. “Y’know, most people just call me Elle.”

“Elle,” Allison said, and (if that were even possible) her grin widened. “That’s so pretty!” I smiled half-heartedly. So she was one of those girls. Y’know, the kind that pays compliments like there’s no tomorrow, but won’t leave until she gets one back? Yeah. Sigh.

I felt the corners of my lips twitch feebly as I frantically thought of something to compliment her on. “’Allison’s pretty, too. Do people call you Ally?”

“No. Just Allison,” she said, shaking her head. We stood in a decidedly awkward silence before she looked around the hallway and said, “So, do you need any help finding your classes? We’ve still got about forty-five minutes before orientation starts, so I can show you around.” She smiled persuasively at me and squealed when I nodded at her, grabbing my schedule from my hand. “Okay! First block: Chemistry. Oh, damn, sucks to be you, eh? Well, let’s go!” With that, she took off down the hallway with me in tow.

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Chapter Seven: The Incest Debate


The tour took longer than expected. When we entered the auditorium, it was already packed, and an older woman in a pencil-skirted suit and heels was addressing the students. Allison waved goodbye to me as she left to join her friends wherever. Great – now I was left to find somewhere to sit on my own. Talk about awkward. Well, it certainly felt awkward, anyway.

I edged my way along the back row of seats which were, unsurprisingly, completely filled. I sighed to myself. I hesitated to the extent that people started noticing the creeper hanging back behind the last row. I started forward in light of my hasty decision to preserve my social dignity as well as I could. The first few rows I passed were completely filled with whispering teenagers, and the next few had occupants who looked less than inviting, so I quickly ruled them out. I swiftly passed them by and continued looking. I saw Allison with her friends (who all, by the way, looked like each of them could be her twin) nestled in a corner against the back wall. (She sent me an apologetic smile. Quaint.) There was another group of students that very naturally stood out – a group of clearly testosterone-ridden boys, all looking at me in mild disinterest.

So I, the unassuming New Girl, was having to make my grand entrance by walking by myself down the center of the aisle in the middle of orientation, continuously asking “Is this seat taken?” until somebody maybe took pity upon my poor, battered dignity and might let me sit at the aisle beside their feet like their dog? Maybe they’d buy me a nice collar-and-leash two-fer-one set with rhinestones and all. Oh my gosh, and maybe they’d get me a pretty metal food dish with my name on the side, which they’d have tastefully changed to ‘Lucy’ or ‘Daisy’ or some other tasteful doggy name…Oh, God. I’m contemplating my life as a dog.

Somebody. Kill me now. Serious, fatal maimings would be sufficient.

“Hello,” The woman at the front suddenly said, smiling from behind her podium and microphone. “I’m Ms. Rhoades, your principal. To all freshmen and new students: Welcome to Arnold High!” She paused and glanced at the large group of stiff, nervous-looking underclassmen, all of whom were sat in the first few rows of seats. They all stayed silent, barely acknowledging the fact that she’d spoken to them.

Ms. Rhoades cleared her throat awkwardly and continued. “And to our upperclassmen: Welcome back!” This time, there was much yelling, whistling, clapping, and overall tomfoolery from the rest of the student body. I inconspicuously sat beside a group of quiet girls who looked about – I dunno – maybe sixteen…ish. Oh, well. (I wonder if they would allow suggestions on my name…Fido was definitely out of the question.)

To be honest, I completely tuned out Rhoades as she babbled on about school integrity and sportsmanship and good grades and getting ready for the rest of our blah blah blah. (Really? She says all of this like none of us have heard any of it before. Pfft.) Instead, I looked around and studied my classmates. It might seem a bit weird or odd or whatever, but it prepared me for what my peers in this setting would be like. I’d grown up going to school with the same kids since Pre-K, so I had completely prepared myself to be blind-sighted by the difference in the kids’ behavior here in the city before I moved.

But the thing is, anything I found somebody doing, I could imagine somebody back home doing. There was a girl three rows up twirling a strand of hair around her finger and staring at the ceiling with a blank expression, like I could vividly picture Claire Wasson doing as Mr. Bounds babbled on about the Punic Wars. After I looked at the people around me, I saw a boy in the group of testosterone-altered males sneaking looks at that same girl. Brian Herring and Claire Wasson. Brian had been in love with Claire since elementary school, but she’d always been oblivious. We’d all thought she was leading him on for the longest time, but she really had no clue…They got together last March.

Damn. Did I actually miss any of them?

Yeah.

I never expected to.

“Okay! We’re splitting you up into your homerooms now,” Rhoades said, grinning and clapping her hands together while she stared at us. A blank silence was abruptly interrupted by some groans from the males of the student body, and Rhoades laughed. “Let’s just get this over with. Homeroom teachers are outside with their rosters. I’ll call you out in groups; you’ll go out to the hallway, meet your teacher, and go to your classes. You’ll have time to go over the handbook with your teacher, and then we’ll have a lunch break. After you guys eat, we’re going to do a quick run-through of your classes, then we’ll dismiss. Any questions?” I had no questions, but I’d decided to tune back in to whatever she was on about as soon as the word ‘split up’ left her lips and entered my ears. (Did that sound weird? Oh, well.)

She started with the freshmen. (I guess that was to be expected.) They filed out group-by-group as she read names off the clipboard in her hand. Most of them still seemed to be petrified by the new atmosphere, but the ones that seemed like the ‘Oh-yes-indeedy-I-am-quite-awesome’ type were…breaking out of their shells, in a way. They were talking quietly and laughing nervously, while their peers stood by silently.

Soon after, the sophomores and juniors left the auditorium in their classes. (The girls sitting beside me were sophomores. Allison was a junior. Fun facts of the day!) Finally, finally, Rhoades flipped the sheet of paper containing the information on the juniors over the board and smiled at us apologetically. “Seniors,” she said, and promptly began naming us off. I felt thoroughly awkward being the only senior not sitting in the last rows, but whatever. I got up with my group when Rhoades spoke my name into the microphone and led the way (for some odd reason…God, don’t any of these people know I have no clue where the hell I’m going?) into the hallway. There stood a grey-haired man, a vibrant-looking middle-aged redhead, and Marcus from the office. (Dafuq? Isn’t he like, the secretary or some shit?)

A small group of girls walked forward to the redheaded woman, who grinned back at them. “Mrs. Schamus!” the shortest of the girls squealed, and Schamus (our teacher, apparently. I’d be the first to admit I wasn’t giving Rhoades my rapt attention when she gave us the finer details of our homeroom class) patted her shoulder.

“Come on, Mallory, we’ll get to the classroom now.”

Somehow, I wasn’t surprised to see she was an English teacher. She had posters with famous quotes and excerpts on them, papers pinned to the walls, books lining shelves behind her desk. I kind of, maybe, sort of loved this woman already, and I didn’t even know if she was a good teacher or not yet.

“Eh, Scham,” a voice said after we’d all been seated. (I chose a nice, inconspicuous seat in the far back corner. A couple of guys and a girl gave me dirty looks for taking a seat from their little posse, but they sat a seat away anyway. Whatever.) The owner of said voice entered the room, some guy. (Yeah, I know. This school apparently has lots of those.) He gave Schamus, who smiled fondly at him, a fleeting side-hug and moved to sit beside the group whose space I’d inadvertently invaded. (Back-of-the-class party! Woo!) (Not.)

“Hey,” he said, doing that weird handshake (thing) that guys do with the two dudes in the group. He mussed up the hair of the girl, who glared at him. “Did I miss much?” He shot a glance at me, probably because I was the only other coherently-thinking organism in their vicinity, but it didn’t last long. He turned back to the girl and grinned as she muttered something about the same old, same old.

“Sorry, Care. Mom held me up. You got to school alright,” The guy said, sitting in the desk beside the girl Care (nickname for Carrie?) behind one of the other guys. (Gah! I need names to properly portray this interaction!)

“No thanks to you,” ‘Care’ muttered darkly, shooting him a pouting glare. The guy just shrugged and the group continued to converse. I tuned out of their conversation because they no longer interested me.

Schamus decided to begin reading the handbook a few minutes later. I was beginning to wish I was back in orientation. Even Schamus looked bored. (Was it my imagination or was she reading faster than was humanly possible?) When she’d finally finished reading, she took a deep breath and glanced at the clock that hung on the wall above her dry erase board. “Only eleven? Well, I guess you guys can…mingle. Talk quietly. If I get a migraine from you buggers, there’ll be hell to pay.” Ah, a teacher who shamelessly swears. I may be in Heaven.

I set my head on my desk on my arms (it’s a paradox, eh?), and closed my eyes to the buzzing classroom. I wanted to sleep, if I was being honest with myself. And I tried to do just that. Tried, being the operative word.

Maybe ten or fifteen minutes into my would-be nap, I heard the four nearest desks squeak slightly as they were filled. I frowned into my arms, but didn’t move.

“So, you’re new, right? What’s your name?”

Goddamn it, why do these people have to be so social?

I looked up, almost expecting the group before me to be the one with the guys and The Girl ‘Care.’ But, no. It was actually just a group of girls, all looking at me with different expressions. A scowl, two smiles, and a blank look of utter apathy. I can see the people here are exceptionally receiving.

“Hm? Oh, yeah. I’m new. My name’s Elle. I moved here over the summer.”

The girls looked at each other at this news, then back at me. I felt like an animal trapped in the Zoo, being stared at by the Big, Bad People. “So, where’re you from?” the Girl with the Scowl asked, playing with the end of a strand of her strawberry blonde hair.

“Just a small town an hour or so away from here,” I replied, looking at each of the girls in turn. They looked like they were certainly diversified in pretty much everything. Two looked relatively friendly; the other two looked like they would rather be anywhere else on the planet at the moment. One looked slightly chubby, another almost sickly thin. Two looked startlingly average. It always struck me how similar and different each and every teenager was from its peers.

Okay, so now I sound like Dr. Phil. Shoot me in the foot.

One of the Smiling Girls, the one with really curly hair and bright, light brown eyes, leaned forward on her desk and smiled even wider. “So, you’re name’s Elle? That’s pretty. I’m Mallory, but these guys call me Squee, and that’s Destiny,” she pointed to the skinny one with an exceptionally blank expression on her face, “Mellissa,” the other Smiling Girl brightened at her name and waved, giving her straight blonde hair a bit of a flick (Egad.) “And that’s Jennifer. Ignore her, she’s just sore because she had to move and she’s lazier than a…sloth. Or something.” Squee (how the hell did she get that name?) sighed and waved her hand at the girl who’d asked me where I was from, the Girl with the Scowl. It took me a second to notice something.

“Jennifer?” I laughed quietly, barely able to believe the irony. Her name was Jennifer, like my Jen back home. Why were so many things reminding me of that hellhole today? All I’d ever dreamed of growing up was getting out of it.

The Girl with the Scowl, Jennifer, allowed her perfected scowl to deepen. “What’s so funny about my name?” Her hair was strawberry blonde, almost gingerish, and she toyed with the ends absent-mindedly.

“Oh, nothing,” I said quickly, hoping I hadn’t…I dunno…offended her. “It’s just, my best friend back home’s name was Jennifer. I thought it was kind of ironic.”

“Yeah, well don’t expect me to be your best friend here,” she snapped, frowning and turning around in her desk to face the front, where Schamus sat at her desk, knitting…something. (Was that a banana or a scarf?)

Squee (Mallory? What am I supposed to call her?) turned to me and rolled her eyes. “She’s just pissy today. I, personally, think it’s cool that your best friend at home’s name is Jennifer, and that this particular Jennifer is giving Jennifers all around a bad name,” Squee said emphatically, poking Jennifer’s shoulder. (Jennifer ignored her. Shocker.) I just nodded in noncommittal agreement as Squee-Mallory turned to look at me again. “No pun intended, by the way.”

I just realized she said, “Jennifer is giving Jennifers all around a bad name.” Bad name? Geddit? Because ‘Jennifer’s their names. And this Jennifer was being pissy, so she was giving them a bad name…

Oh, well. I laughed.

For a second, there was a loud, tinkling laughter that filled the classroom, and everybody turned to look at The Girl ‘Care.’ When she noticed everybody looking at her, she straightened up and scowled, turning back to her group-o-guys. Destiny, Jennifer, Mellissa, Squee, and I all turned back around to form our interesting little social circle. Jennifer scowled. (I think Jennifer’s scowl is far more intimidating than The Girl ‘Care’s. Not that I’m saying that just to get on her good side. I mean, wouldn’t that make her hate me even more? And anyway, she won’t even know I said her scowl was more intimidating because I thought it in my head rather than spoke it through my mouth. Oh, God, why did you give me the gift of the Babble?)

“I hate her,” Jennifer said, narrowing her eyes.

“Why? Who are they?”I asked casually, sending a super short glance at the group in which The Girl ‘Care’ sat. Jennifer rolled her eyes and The-Other-Smiling-Girl-Who-Is-Not-Squee Mellissa sighed, wrinkling her nose.

“Carrie is kind of a bitch, but there’s no need to get active about it, Jen. It’ll only piss you off.” If I did say so myself, Jennifer needed no more pissing off. As I thought this, Mellissa gave Jennifer one of those Super-Special-Best-Friend-I-Can-See-Through-You glances. (I recognized it because Nell and I had like, perfected ours over the courses of our lives.) Jennifer continues to be Little Miss Grumpy and deigned to argue.

Squee and Destiny watched impassively as Jennifer and Mellissa bickered. “Guys,” Squee finally said, exasperated. “Just shut up.” She ran her fingers through her curly hair before looking at me. “Carrie Spinnet, that’s who they’re talking about. She’s really not all bad, she just doesn’t like the attention she gets when you guys actively hate her,” Squee muttered, looking thoroughly disappointed in her friends. Jennifer and Mellissa looked like scolded children.

(Throughout all of this, Destiny has said literally nothing. I have decided to deem her Destiny the Skinny and Silent One. It fits. I swear, she has some sort of weight disorder or something. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Maybe it’s just, you know, hereditary or something. But coming from a slightly chubby girl like myself, her skinniness was slightly unnerving.)

Mellissa pulled a face and shot a covert glance at Carrie’s back as she leaned in toward me. “That guy with the curly hair? The blonde one?” (Here, she waited for me to reassure her of my comprehension. I nodded.) “He’s Jace, her brother. And they’re like, best friends, which is kind of weird. I mean, I wouldn’t be best friends with my brother for anything.”

I simply nodded. Personally not finding it at all odd that they were best friends, I decided not voicing my difference in opinion was best.

“They’re twins, Mel. It’s not weird,” Squee said, sighing and rolled her eyes at her friend, who wrinkled her nose and crossed her arms, leaning back in her desk.

“Whatever. They’re closer than Jen and me. I call incest.”

“Mellissa!” Jennifer hissed. Apparently, this was where she drew the line, too. “He’s fucked half the girls in our school. If he was in love with his sister, he wouldn’t have to. He’d just have to take a nice stroll down the hallway at home.” Jennifer laughed humorlessly and rolled her eyes at her best friend and looked away.

“Cover-up?” Mellissa offered up feebly, pleasing silently with me to support her. I frowned in indecision. To help, or not to help? That is the question.

(I decided to shrug and not care.)

“If it helps anybody here, she’s flirting pretty shamelessly with the ginger,” I said, looking at Carrie’s group of people again. Sure enough, she was flirting with the redhaired guy, who was sitting beside her brother (who I now noticed was the one who’d come in late.) I looked back at “my group.” Jennifer was red in the face, and Mel was looking awkwardly at her.

“Jen?” she asked tentatively, reaching out to touch her best friend’s arm. The bell interrupted just as Jennifer jerked away, storming from the classroom. I followed Squee and Destiny the Skinny and Silent One to the cafeteria as Mellissa chased Jennifer down the hall.

That went well.

[grey scale:]

Chapter Eight: Blowout Friday


“Oh, would you shut up?”

Carrie got up from the couch and stormed off into the kitchen, a glare plastered on her face. Max and I laughed at her while Ben’s eyes remained glued to the television. (Only commercials were playing. Freak.) “Hey, Care?” Ben called out absent-mindedly , picking up the remote control and changing the channel. (Disney? Really?)

“What?” she snapped as we heard a cupboard creaking open. God, was she PMSing or something?

“Can you get me a Sprite and some Cheetos?” She opened the fridge and slammed it shut before reentering the den, completely laden with snacks and sodas. She wordlessly passed Ben his Sprite before chucking the rest of the crap into my lap. She was scowling at us, but I saw her expression soften when Ben muttered a quiet “thanks.” (He was enthralled by “So Random.” I hate this show. What is wrong with him?)

Max seemed to read my mind because he reached across Carrie and me to steal the remote from Ben, who yelled in indignance. “What the actual fuck?” He roared, trying to steal it back, but Carrie held him back, laughing. She grabbed the bag of Puffy Cheetos from the pile on my lap, opened it, and shoved it at him. Startled, he jerked away before she shook the bag in his face. “Dammit, Benjamin! I got these things for you out of the goodness of my heart, and by God, you will eat them!” She flared fiercely at him until he cautiously took the bag, eating the Cheetos slowly.

My sister is scary when she wants to be.

Once Ben began eating the Cheetos at a pace that pleased Carrie, we changed the channel from Disney to one of the major networks. TBS, maybe. I couldn’t be bothered to check. The Big Bang Theory was on. Carrie and Max loved this show, and I could tolerate it, but Ben detested it. The show was shamelessly nerdy at best, but it had its funny moments. I, unlike Ben, actually understood some of their jokes.

“Quidditch, maybe, but football?” The weird little guy with the 70’s haircut and the turtleneck said, staring disbelievingly at the TV set in front of him. Carrie giggled and Max smiled, shaking his head.

“That funny little bastard,” he chuckled, causing me to laugh. Ben shot us annoyed looks and continued sulking in his corner of the couch.

“Oh, get a sense of humor,” I advised Ben, still highly amused. He just glowered at me before looking away.

We watched the show for a while, but soon the episode was over and some other sitcom’s theme started playing. Ben restlessly stood and yawned, stretching his arms high above his head.

“Guys,” he whined pleadingly, “don’t make me go through that again.” His arms dropped to his sides and he shook his head, his ginger hair bouncing. “That was so bad.”

Oh, Benjamin. Always the eloquent one.

Carrie nonchalantly popped a Cheeto into her mouth, not looking at him. “You just don’t know good television, Bennyboo,” she cooed, laughing when his face turned bright red.

I decided to save Ben from his embarrassment by chiming in, “What are we doing tonight?” It was Friday night, but not just any Friday night. The first day of school had come and gone, and come Monday, the student population of Arnold High would have to put away their party supplies (you know, for the most part. There’s always still the hardcore lushes who like to break out the Smirnoff every other weekend or so) and hit the books. That meant that this weekend was basically going to be one big blowout.

Eh. I could live without them.

Carrie frowned and counted off the parties she knew of on her hand. “Well, Madison Kurley’s having one as always, but we are so not going to that one. She’s a total whore, and she never has enough sodas for Max.” Yeah, Max doesn’t like alcohol, but he’s a total party freak anyway. He’s even more of a freak than Ben. “Jaden Carter’s having one because his parents are on their, what? Tenth honeymoon? Anyway, you know his are usually alright.” She scrunched up her face in thought. “Everyone else is going to, well..Jennifer’s party…”

Carrie glanced awkwardly at Ben, who was intently watching Ross and Rachel bicker on the television. I sighed and shook my head as Carrie looked away, seeming slightly deflated.

Jennifer had been Ben’s girlfriend for almost a complete, legit year. (Even though I can’t remember her last name for the life of me.) That’s a record for him. I mean, you don’t even know – he usually doesn’t even ask the girl’s name first before going after her. But he was smitten beyond anything with that girl; it was so painfully obvious to everybody. Since she broke up with him last April, he’d just been…different. Quieter. He’d rather stay at either Carrie’s and my house or Max’s and just watch TV rather than go out and do something or go home himself.

Sure, Jennifer got along alright with Carrie, Max and I while she and Ben were going out. She would hang out with us sometimes, even though she already had her little group of girl friends. Now we kind of hated her, though, for what she did to Ben. I mean, she broke up with him on their fourteen-month-anniversary or some shit for no reason at all. The dude literally sat on my bed and cried for like a straight hour, and for the next month he barely spoke to anyone.

“Let’s go to Jen’s,” Ben said suddenly, and we all gaped at him.

Before long, there was a chorus of “Oh, hell to the no”s, “What the fuck, are you crazy?”s, and my personal favorite, “Get your head out of your fucking ass so you can hear what you’re saying! Christ, I think I just had a fucking heart attack!” (Thanks for that one, Max.)

Ben stared at us blankly before looking back at the TV. “I can’t avoid her forever. It’s been like four months, guys. And anyway, she…she invited me earlier.”

“Invited you, maybe,” Carrie grumbled, glaring at Ben. She and Ben were really close, especially since the breakup. I guess you could say she kind of put him back together. (She has an infallible method of “tough love.”)

“She knows that if I come, you guys come with me. I wouldn’t go without you. I won’t,” he amended quickly, sighing and pressing the power button on the television’s remote control. The screen immediately went blank. “I just think that we should. Just to prove to myself that I’m, you know, really over her.” He looked at each of us in turn, obviously pleading with us.

I wasn’t sure if he was begging us to go, or if it was something else.

It scared the shit out of me. Especially since I didn’t know why it scared me.

[grey scale:]

Chapter Nine: Sugar Cookies


“You should come tonight,” Squee said to me as we meandered our ways through the thinning sea of students in the parking lot. I wrinkled my nose at her suggestion We’d moved into the house we were renting three weeks ago, so I couldn’t quite use “unpacking” as an excuse not to go wherever she was talking about tonight. Curious, I decided to ask anyway.

“Go where?”

“Jen’s party,” she explained, looking slightly apologetic for not having properly clarified before. “I forgot, you don’t know. she has a little party the night after every first day of school. Most of the people in our year’ll be there.” She looked at me curiously as I thought over the potential ‘fun.’

“Parties aren’t really my thing,” I admitted, shrugging. “And besides, I don’t think Lauren really…likes me all too much. She didn’t quite invite me herself.”

Squee waved me offas we stopped beside an off-white car. It wasn’t old, but it wasn’t new. I had no room to talk, I had no care whatsoever. In any case, Squee’d offered me a ride home, and I’d gratefully accepted. The walk to school this morning had been boring, and I hadn’t been looking forward to the return journey this afternoon. “I live near there, anyway,” she’d said dismissively when I’d told her where I lived.

Now, with a mechanic beep!, Squee unlocked her car and opened her door. I opened the passenger-side door and set my backpack on my lap once I’d sat down. The bag was empty again; all of my books were now currently in my locker. “I’ve officially extended my ‘invitation,’” she exaggerated the word with air quotes before starting the car, “to include a ‘plus one.’” She smiled at me, and we both buckled up as we waited for the air conditioner to kick in.

“Anyway, it’s nor a huge, out-of-control party or anything. Jen’s too much of a tightass to let any real shenanigans go down under her roof.” I watched as Squee rolled her eyes and began backing out of the space her car had been parked in. “No alcohol, either. Well, not really. If you want any, you usually bring your own. Her mom’s got a nose like a damn dog and can sniff out large quantities of anything immoral in seconds.” She winced, pulling off onto Stewart Street, the main street that the high school was located on. “To, you know, avoid getting into a lot of trouble, Jen basically just stocks up on a shitton of soda.”

“That’s…smart,” I said, playing with the hem of my shirt. I watched as the shops and people of Stewart Street passed us while we stopped at a red light.

“Yeah, they’re still pretty fun. Dancing, all that. It’s mostly off of sugar rush, though,” Squee said, smiling wryly. “You’d have fun if you came, I promise. I can even introduce you to some new people, so you aren’t such a New Girl, you know?” I nodded in grateful agreement as Squee turned onto my street. I kept my attention on the unfamiliar houses now, not wanting to pass up my new home accidentally. Red shutters, brown door, ‘L’ walkway… I recognized the forest green mailbox as we neared the house, and I alerted Squee.

“This one,” I said, pointing to the mailbox. I watched jealously as she effortlessly pulled up beside the curb. I moved to exit the car, but she stopped me and began digging in her purse.

“Wait,” she said, finally pulling out a square of neon blue Post-It notes and a purple Sharpie pen. She hastily scribbled something onto the top square before peeling it off of its brethren and handing it to me. “Text me if anything comes up and you can’t come. Otherwise I’ll be there at seven. I guess we’ll get there a bit early to help Jen set up,” Squee said, grinning at me. I nodded, somewhat speechless, and got out of the car.

I waved goodbye to her as she drove away before turning and going inside.


“Elisabeth! Michelle! Roscoe!” A shrill screech reached my ears and I braced myself for an ambush of some sort. It was a smart move. I felt strong arms envelope me in a huge bear hug as thin legs simultaneously wrapped around my hips.

“Hey, Nell,” I said, laughing as I struggled to maintain my balance. She squealed again, now laughing with me and kissing my cheek multiple times.

“I’ve missed you!” She said happily, grinning as she disengaged her body from my own and stood before me. She was pretty, far prettier than me. She had her straight, light brown hair up in a ridiculously messy bun, and her cute, cherubic face had no makeup on it, which was slightly unusual. She wore pajama shorts and a huge t-shirt; it was pretty obvious she’d been lazing around all day. I was jealous; I’d despised having to wake up this morning for school, despite my simultaneous excitement.

“It’s been two weeks,” I pointed out matter-of-factly as we moved into the kitchen, where Aunt Bea sat reading a romance novel and eating a cookie from the plate-full in front of her. Nell and I also took a cookie and sat on either side of her. “Hey, Aunt Bea,” I said, taking a bite of the cookie before uttering a quiet, cookie-filled, “Oh. Mah. Gawhd.” Sugar cookies. My favorites. Nomnomnom.

“How was school?” my aunt asked me, smiling kindly and setting her book down beside the plate of cookies. “Did you make any new friends?”

I felt like I’d just gotten back from my very first day of Kindergarten rather than my first day at a new school.

“Kind of,” I said, somewhat unsure. Suddenly, the Post-It with Squee’s number on it seemed so much heavier in my pocket. Was she nice to me because she genuinely wanted to be my friend, or was she just being nice because I was the New Girl? I was now quite uncertain, and I felt anxiety creep into the pit of my stomach. I stubbornly ignored it and continued informing Aunt Bea of my social status. “I got invited to a little party tonight, so I guess that’s good.”

“A party?” Aunt Bea and Nell said at the same time, wearing laughably different expressions. Nell was frowning and Aunt Bea even looked excited for me. “Are you excited?” she asked, her grin widening when I nodded, smiling for her benefit. Nell was looking at me, her concerned frown still in place.

“Are you sure…?” she started, but then she glanced at her mother, who was looking right back at her, an eyebrow raised.

“What?” Aunt Bea asked, looking between us. I just gave her a tight smile and shook my head.

“Oh, it’s nothing Aunt Bea. I just don’t like parties very much.” That was true, so it’s not like I was lying or anything. “But I’m going,” I said firmly, nodding my head at Nell. She studied me for a minute, put down her cookie, and pulled a face.

“I suppose I’m helping you get ready, aren’t I?” I smiled in response and finished off my last bite of cookie.