random high school story

From the empty lunch table where I'm sitting I can see Rebecca and Samantha waiting in line for their lunch, talking animatedly. Sam's hands fly wildly around her gesturing and acting out her latest story. Her bright blue eyes are wide with excitement and her light brown hair bounces around her face in wavy locks. Rebecca is watching intently, obviously amused by the tale. Her arms are crossed lazily in front of her chest and her head nods in agreement every so often making the messy bun on the back of her head bob precariously, threatening to fall out of it's mess of pins and elastics.

I hear someone approach, but I don't care to see who. My eyes are glued on the scene. Before long the girls are at the head of the line piling cafeteria food onto their styrofoam trays.

"What ch'ya staring at, Riley?" Someone says in my ear.

I turn my head and laugh. Laurens' face is two inches away from my own. Her brown eyes stare at me comically and I can tell by the look on her face that she's trying not to laugh.

"Those goofs we call our best friends," I reply with a strong note of sarcasm. We both laugh as Rebecca and Sam walk over and sit down on either side of us.

"So, how about that English paper?" Rebecca says casually. "Those essay topics were actually pretty interesting," English has always come easy to her.

"Don't even go there," Sam cries putting her face in her hands. "I'm still trying to get my brain functioning after that History test! How does Mrs. Pace expect us to remember something we learned twenty-seven chapters ago?!"

"She's a teacher," I reply lightly. "She has no idea what she's doing."

"Speaking of teachers," Sam says excitedly, "Want to hear something really funny?"

"Do we have a choice?" Lauren asks laying her head down on her arms. Her long, dark hair falls in front of her face like a curtain.

"No!" Sam says with a grin.

"Well, then let's hear it," I say knowing she'd tell us even if we didn't want to hear it.

"OK, so I was walking through the women's department in Wal-Mart yesterday and while I was walking past the bra aisle I saw an older lady trying on a bra over her shirt."

"So? I've seen lots of people do things like that." I say.

"Let me finish!" She says with even more excitement. "Anyway, the lady wasn't facing me before so I couldn't tell who it was, but once she got the bra fastened she turned around towards me and guess who it was?"

"Who?" Lauren asks.

"Mrs. Atkins!"

"Mrs. Atkins? Our English teacher, Mrs. Atkins?!" Rebecca asks in shock.

"Yep. The one and only." Sam says.

We all burst out in laughter. The image of that sixty year-old woman in Wal-Mart with a bra done up over her shirt almost brings me to tears. Great. How can I go to her class and keep a straight face now?

After our giggle fit is over Sam and Rebecca start to eat random bits of the food on their trays.


Sam stands up, tray in hand, and just as she dumps it into the trash, the bell to go to third period rings.

"Ugh," Sam moans. "I really, really, really don't want to go to Math today!"

"None of us want to go to class, Sam, but we have to," Lauren replies exhaustedly.

"That doesn't make it any better." Sam says with a groan.

Lauren playfully sticks her tongue out in return.

"OK, bye guys, I'm going to class now," I say turning to walk off

"BYE RILEY!" They yell in high pitched voices.

My friends are crazy, I think, laughing to myself.

As I walk out of the lunch room I feel arms wrap around my waste from behind. My breath catches in my chest. There is only one person who greets me that way; Dillan.

I love Dillan, but, at the same time, I hate him. He always gives me hugs and holds my hand and tells me he loves me, but I can never believe anything that comes from him. Dillan is the biggest flirt in school and he acts that way toward every other girl our age. I try not to get too wrapped up in his faux affection, but sometimes I get carried away and flirt shamelessly.

"Hello, Dillan," I say resting my hands on his.

I turn around and face him, his arms still around me, and he pulls me into a hug.

Man, does he smell good!

His light brown hair brushes against my cheek as I rest my head on his shoulder. He leans his head down and whispers "I love you," in my ear.

I pull away, look into his bright green eyes and say back doubtfully,

"Sure you do."

"Why do you always say things like that?" he says exasperated.

"Why do you always say things like that?" I retort.

"Because it's true!"

"Yeah, OK," I mutter trying to break away from his arms but he tightens his grip.

"What?! What am I doing wrong? I thought girls liked to hear that kind of stuff."

"Dillan, I love you doesn't mean anything if you don't mean it when you say it."

"Girls are so confusing," he sighs.

"You'll get used to it," I reply sarcastically.

I break away from his arms and walk away without saying anything else.

The tardy bell rings as I walk down the next hall towards the Chemistry room.

"Great!" I mumble to myself.

Mr. Gold, our assistant principal, walks in the hall behind me yelling at the other slackers and blows his whistle forcing them into class like a bunch of stray dogs in a pound.

I open the door of the classroom and expect a sarcastic quip about being tardy from Mr. Gibson, but nothing happens. Everyone is looking back and forth from their papers to the white board in the front of the room, their pencils scratching on their papers. I look up at the board and see ten questions on the notes we took last class period.

Too bad I wasn't paying attention.

I walk through the rows of desks to my seat on the fourth row and pull my chair away from the desk. It scrapes noisily across the linoleum and I cringe at the sound. I sit down, pull my notebook out of my book bag and search for any notes I might have taken last class period, but nothing seems to correspond with the questions on the board. I end up writing down my name and the questions, but nothing else.

"OK," Mr. Gibson's voice booms from the back of the room. "Pass your bell work all the way to the right."

Because I sit at the end of my row I end up with a pile of other people's papers on my desk. As I am about to get up to give the stack of papers to Mr. Gibson he says, "Alright, everybody up. I have a new seating arrangement."

A few minutes later I am sitting on the second row next to a boy with sandy blonde hair and blue eyes that I've seen around school, but whose name I never cared to learn.

Mr. Gibson starts off on a lecture, but I can't focus my attention on the notes he is scrawling on the board. Soon I'm daydreaming, picturing Mrs. Atkins walking down the aisles of Wal-Mart with a white bra strapped over her chest, her gray hair bobbing around her ears and her thin lips pursed into a thin smile. I laugh quietly to myself.

When I break out of the dream I realize I'm staring at the profile of the no-name boy next to me. He looks at me questioningly out of the corner of his eye. My face reddens and I turn my head back toward the board.

How long have I been staring at him?

I should probably pay attention to what Mr. Gibson is teaching before I end up failing the class.

I pick up my pencil, open my notebook to a fresh sheet of paper, and begin scribbling the notes that are on the board. The numbers and equations and symbols make no sense to me, but maybe I can have Lauren explain things to me after school sometime.

While I'm writing down the last equation the bell rings. I grab my notebook and my binder and throw my bag over my shoulder. I'll get things situated once I get to fourth period.

As I'm walking through the lunch room someone runs into me from behind knocking me to my knees. My binder and notebook fly out of my arms and my papers scatter all over the hallway. I scramble to get my notes before they get smashed or dirtied by the trampling feet. I turn around to get the array of papers that ended up behind me when I meet a pair of piercing blue eyes. It's the boy from Chemistry.

"Here," he mumbles as he hands me a stack of my notes.

"Thanks, um…" I say trailing off.

"Josh," he replies, taking notice of my loss for words.

Josh. How come that doesn't ring a bell?

"I'm…"

"Riley Webster," he finishes, "I know."

I stand up, shove the papers hastily in my bag and stand in front of him without making eye contact.

"Well…um…thanks again," I manage. I feel the blood rush to my cheeks. I've never been good with awkward moments…or boys.

"Sure, no problem," Josh replies with a casual air. His voice is soft, smooth, musical.

Did my knees just…quiver?

I laugh stiffly. "Well, I uh better get to class then," I say. My voice sounds like its coming from someone else's mouth.

"Yeah, you wouldn't want to be late," He chuckles, "Again."

"Yeah, right. So I guess I'll see you around?" I ask weakly.

Wow, what a lame line…

"Yeah, see you." He smiles, turns, and walks away.

I try to move, but my legs don't respond.

How could I have never noticed him before?

I walk numbly into the French room, grab the bell work off of the front desk and take my seat without saying a word. My mind is on Josh as I translate the sentences on the paper without thinking too much about them. French has always been my forté . Madame Jolie hands out a study guide and puts on a movie about Joan of Arc. It's a good thing I wont have to think too much more today. I don't think I can handle it.

I manage to make it through fourth period and walk toward the North entrance where Lauren and I meet after school. When I get there I see her leaning against the wall waiting for my arrival.

"Hey," she says when she sees me.

"What's up?" I ask.

"I'm just brain-dead from a day at school, that's all," she replies.

"Just like me!" I chuckle.

"So are you ready to go?"

"Yeah" I say. "Come on."

We walk out the doors, run through the line of school busses and jump in my car. As we wait for the long line of student drivers to pass I turn on my car and plug in my iPod. Lauren finds our favorite song of the day and we turn up the volume and sing out the lyrics. After three more songs the line of traffic has died down and I pull out of the parking lot.

"Lauren, do you know a Josh?" I ask.

"Josh, who?"

I pause. "I'm not sure, but I think he's in our grade. Or he may be a Senior, I don't know. He has gray and blue eyes, sandy hair. He's pretty tall, kind of lanky, and has a really prominent jaw line…" My words trail off as I get lost in my thoughts.

"Oh, Josh Brighton, yeah, I know him. He's a Junior," she says in revelation.

"Oh, so he is in our grade,"

"Yeah. Why do you ask?"

"I was just wondering. I met him today"

"Oh?"

"Yeah. He sits next to me in Chemistry now. And then when I was going to fourth period someone ran into me from behind and my papers went everywhere and Josh helped me pick them up." I tell her, reliving the scene in my head, "It was really sweet."

"That is sweet. He's not too bad looking either." she says slyly.

"Yeah, he is pretty cute," I say not realizing the trap I am falling into.

"Riley's got a crush! Riley's got a crush!" Lauren chants laughing.

"I do not!" I protest, "I just think he's a nice guy."

"Hold on to him, Riley" she says, "You wont find many nice guys in this life time."

I pull up at Laurens house and she gets out of the car. "See you tomorrow" she says as she grabs her backpack and jacket out of the back seat. She runs up to her porch and waves once she gets the screen door open. I wave back and drive off toward home, blasting the music through the speakers.

I get home, plug my iPod into the stereo in the living room and decide to start on the dishes that I've been putting off for a few days. When I'm about halfway through the sink load my mom walks in the house and throws herself down on the couch.

"Hey, Mom," I yell over the music and running water. I shut them both off and sit down next to her. "How was your day? You seem a little exhausted."

She laughs, "Yeah today was a bit crazy I'll admit, but at least I got everything for that training done." My mom is a secretary at a big-wig business in town and has been in charge of planning this stupid meeting for the past month. I don't think I've ever seen her as stressed out as she has been these past couple weeks.

"Sounds fun," I reply sarcastically

She kicks off her shoes, turns on the TV and is asleep before the first episode of I Love Lucy is over. I go out into the kitchen, finish up the dishes, and look for something to make for dinner.

An hour later my mom and I are sitting on the couch eating Spaghetti and garlic bread and watching the Sci-Fi channel. "So how was school today?" She asks me during a commercial.

"Oh, you know, it was…school," I murmur. Josh's face flashes across my mind, but I decide to keep our meeting to myself. It's not like it was a big deal or anything.

Another hour later dinner is cleaned up and I'm finishing up my history homework. I go down to my room, grab my study guide for English and try to force my way through one of the most boring books I've read in a while, but I can't focus. I shut the book, throw it on the floor, and slip my headphones into my ears. Sweet melodies sing through my head as I drift off to sleep.

* * *

"Riley?" My mom says quietly. She opens my door slightly. "Riley, are you awake yet?"

"Mom?" I say still half asleep. "What time is it?"

"Riley, you need to get going. It's almost 7:30," she answers, walking down the hallway toward the bathroom.

"What?!" I yell shooting up out of bed, hitting my head on the bars above me. I grab my digital clock with one hand and rub my head with the other. Through my blurred vision I see the alarm clock glaring 7:26 A.M in bold, red, numbers. I'm supposed to be at Lauren's house in 4 minutes to pick her up for school! I frantically slip out of the t-shirt and jeans that I slept in and pull on khaki cargo Capri's and a light pink, silky blouse. Then I grab some makeup and run up the stairs where I hastily shove my makeup, binder, and notebook into my book bag while slipping on my white flip-flops.

"Don't forget breakfast!" My mom yells from downstairs.

I sigh and run into the kitchen, rip open a new box of granola bars, stuff a couple into my bag, and run out the door with my car keys in hand. I unlock my car, throw my bag in the back seat and drive to Lauren's house.

Once Lauren and I get to school we walk to the lunch room and sit down at our usual table. I pull out my compact and start putting on makeup.

"So why were you late anyway?" Lauren asks.

"I fell asleep without setting my alarm last night and my mom didn't wake me up until right before 7:30," I answer through puckered lips as I apply lip gloss.

"Oh. Well, at least you got to sleep in," she says jealously. "I woke up extra early just to do this," She points to her hair which she has styled with a waving iron.

"And it looks adorable," I assure her.

"Aw, thank you" she says with a grin. Immediately the smile falls from her face. "Oh, no," she says grudgingly.

"What?" I ask.

My answer sits down beside me and kisses me on the cheek.

"Good morning, beautiful," Dillan says with a smirk.

I smile. "Hi,"

"Are you OK?" he asks looking at my puffy eyes and messy hair. I didn't get to brush it before I ran out of the house

"Yeah," I say raking my fingers through my hair, "I woke up late today."

"Oh." he replies nonchalantly.

Rebecca walks up and sits down. "Hey guys. Riley did you finish the study guide for English?"

"Oh, man!" I say smacking my forehead. "No, of course not. I started to do it last night, but I couldn't get through it."

Lauren snickers. "I wonder who you were thinking about," she says mockingly.

I shoot her a threatening look and she stops laughing, but keeps a sly grin pasted on her face.

"Who's she talking about?" Dillan asks with sudden curiosity.

"No one," I say, ending that conversation.

"Anyway," Rebecca says, "I have the answers. Do you want them?"

My eyes light up. "Rebecca, you are my hero! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" I grab her study guide and start copying down the answers into my own.

I'm on my last page of answers when Samantha finally shows up. "Stupid bus driver," she says, "I swear she doesn't know how to drive over thirty miles an hour! I need those answers when you're done with them," she adds to me. I scribble down the answers and give the book to her. She then writes as fast as she can while stuffing a cinnamon roll into her mouth with her other hand. "Thanks, Rebecca," Sam says with a mouth full of roll as she hands her back the study guide which is now dotted with icing fingerprints.

The first period bell rings and everyone around the table stands up to go to class. Rebecca, Sam, Dillan, and I all head off toward our English class. Dillan takes my hand and squeezes it, but lets go almost immediately and walks off in another direction.

"Meagan!" He cries. A girl with short, dark hair turns around and he hugs her and kisses her on the corner of her mouth. My stomach turns into a rock and a lump forms in my throat. This is why I hate getting so attached to him.

"I'll see you guys in class," he says wrapping his arm around her waste. She puts her hand in his back pocket and I try to keep my stomach in its place. They walk off, wrapped around each other around a corner in the opposite direction.

"That guy is such a man whore," Sam says "Why do you put up with his crap?"

"I don't know," I answer. I honestly don't know why I deal with it. I know he doesn't really mean anything when he flirts. That's just the way he is. That's his style and I know he can't help it, but it kills me inside and he doesn't even realize it.

Sam, Rebecca, and I file into class and take our seats. Dillan runs into the classroom just as the bell is ringing and Mrs. Atkins goes to her podium in the front of the classroom. Suddenly my mind jumps back to yesterday and all I can see is Mrs. Atkins with a bra strapped to her chest. I start to giggle under my breath and I put my hands over my mouth trying to stay as quiet as possible. Rebecca and Sam look at me questioningly, but after a second they realize why I'm laughing and they start to giggle uncontrollably too. Mrs. Atkins looks at us sternly and we do our best to quiet ourselves as she starts on a lecture about grammar and sentence structure.

Sam slowly inches her cell phone out of her pocket and starts texting a message. She closes the phone and sets it down in her lap waiting for the reply.

Suddenly my pocket vibrates. I stick my thumb inside my pockets and carefully slip out my own cell phone. I flip open the device at my side and read the new text message.

Are you excited for Prom?

That's still two weeks away I reply. I press send and look over at Sam who's looking at me with her eyebrows raised. Her phone buzzes in her lap. She flips open her phone and reads the message, and quickly replies.

I know, but, still. Are you?

Yeah, I guess. I really don't think I'm going to get asked anyway.

Don't worry she answers You will.

At least you don't have to worry. You have Hunter.

Hunter has been Sam's boyfriend for about three months now. They both talk too much and are interested in the same things; cars, hunting, camping, fishing, and all of that other outdoors-y stuff. They really do make a cute couple. He has dark brown hair that hangs slightly in his eyes and he is much tanner than she is. And his eyes are green as opposed to her ocean blue ones. He's a really sweet guy and he has a great sense of humor. They have been planning prom for the last two weeks even though its still far into the future.

Yeah, I know. Isn't he amazing? she types back with a grin.

He's all I ever hear about, I type with a chuckle. I'm surprised I'm not in love with him.

She reads the message and laughs a little too loudly. Rebecca shoots a warning look over at us and I peer up at Mrs. Atkins who has paused her lecture and is glaring at us with great distaste. Sam closes her phone and shoves it into her pocket as slyly as possible. Mrs. Atkins turns to the board and finishes her example of sentence structure. Sam looks over at me and smiles and I can't help but smile back. Mrs. Atkins already hates us so we don't even try to be good anymore

"Alright, everyone," She says, "Class will be over in a few moments. There will be a bell quiz on sentence structure next time so I hope for your sakes you took notes," She shoots an accusing glance at me and Sam, but we both stare at her innocently. The bell rings and we gather up our stuff and head downstairs to the choir room.

"I didn't think Mrs. Atkins could hate you guys any more but today proves it," Rebecca says. "She was shooting glares at you two all through class. If looks could kill…"

"We would have been dead a long time ago," I say, knowing very well how much I'm disliked by my English teacher. "And I'm pretty sure I would have killed a few people by now." I say laughing. Rebecca does not look amused.

"It's not my fault I'm not interested in what she's teaching," Sam says innocently. "Sentence structure and grammar aren't really on the top of my list of priorities. If it weren't for Riley I would probably fall asleep in the class." She laughs.

"Still," Rebecca says sternly, "You should at least try to humor her. She thinks these things will help you with your future."

"I don't plan on becoming a writer or an ornery, old English teacher any time soon so I guess that doesn't apply to me," I say jokingly.

When we get to the choir room we set our bags down and head over to get our music folders. I pull my folder out of slot number 26 and open it to see a new book of music. "Sam, Rebecca, look. Looks like we're going to site read some new music today," I say with a grin. On the front of the music in curvy lettering it says Claire de la Lune. I open the book and read the French text translating bits of it in my head. In my room…alone with my thoughts.…you are not here…with the moon as my only comfort…

"Wow," I mumble.

"What? What does it mean?" Sam asks.

"I don't know what all of it says, I think it's in old French, but I can translate some of it." I read to them the bits and pieces of the old text that I can actually understand.

"Wow," Rebecca says. Her voice is almost believable but I can tell by the look on her face that she isn't really that interested.

"Sounds pretty cool," Sam says with the same enthusiasm.

Am I the only one that can appreciate beautiful poetry and the French language?

"Ok, guys, take your seats," Mrs. Cresh says in her high, fluttery voice.

Rebecca and I walk over to our seats on the front row and Sam walks back two rows behind us. I look to the other side of the room and see Lauren sitting opposite me and I wave at her smiling. She pulls a cheesy grin across her face and waves back The class of about eighty students warms up for the next ten minutes until Mrs. Cresh finally says, "Alright everyone, pull out your new song."

Everyone scrambles for their folders and pulls out Claire de la Lune. Mrs. Cresh walks over to the piano and plucks through the melody introducing us to the new piece. Then she plays us our starting notes, and guides us through the gorgeous harmonies and fugues of the song. My heart is filled with so many emotions at once I think it might burst. By the time we have gone through the song once I am completely dumbfounded and almost short of breath. I look around the room and realize that everyone else is completely bored with the song.

After going through my own little emotional roller coaster a few more times Mrs. Cresh goes back and takes us through the rough parts and introduces a solo line in the piece that I hadn't noticed before.

"Would anyone like to take a stab at the solo?" She asks. "Preferable a tenor." A few men raise their hands eagerly and others are forced into it by their friends, but after a few minutes a small group of six or seven young men stand in front of the choir with embarrassed faces.

I don't pay much attention as they one by one sing through the solo. I am now doodling on the corner of an old concert announcement flyer. Somewhere in my subconscious I hear one of their voices. It's shaky with nervousness and slightly flat. I look up to see who it is and I see Brian, a boy from my band class, clutching the sheet of music in his white, shaking fists. After he is finished he scans the crowd and meets my eyes. I try to shoot him an encouraging smile, but I'm not sure he sees me because the terrified look is still pasted on his face.

I lean back over the flyer and add to the swirling, swooping design I had been creating. Again, in the back of my head, I hear another soloist's voice. My heart nearly stops dead as the voice of an angel rings through my ears. I slowly tilt my head up to the queue of men at the front of the room and my eyes stop on a strong profile. His sandy blonde hair hangs in his blue-gray eyes as they scan the music and he "la la's" the solo as if he had known the melody for years.

Josh? I think, dumbfounded. I didn't even know he was in this class! I instantly feel a little guilty. Bewilderedly I mutter "How could I seriously have never noticed this guy before?"

"What?" Rebecca whispers in awe.

"Nothing," I mumble shortly.

Josh finishes his solo and no one makes a sound. Gradually an applause grows throughout the stunned crowd. I go to clap, but my body does not respond. All I can do is stare at him in amazement.

"I think we have our soloist," Mrs. Cresh says clapping her hands. "Josh, what do you say?" She asks. A smile spreads across her face and she gives a little chuckle.

"I'll do it," he says in his satiny voice. "But I'm not too sure about the text. The French is going to take me a while to learn."

"Well I'm not too good at French, but I'm sure we can find someone who will help with pronunciation," Mrs. Cresh says cheerily, "Now, who in here is taking French? Anyone?"

I look around the room and realize no one has moved. How is it possible that I'm the only one in a class of more than eighty people that has taken a French class? Rebecca grabs my arm and shoves it into the air. Everyone's eyes shift to me and my cheeks flush red.

"Excellent!" Mrs. Cresh squeaks, clapping her hands. "Riley would you be willing to teach Josh a thing or two?"

"I guess so," I mumble. Josh smiles reassuringly at me, erasing my embarrassment completely. His shining eyes crinkle at the corners.

The men go back to their seats and I sneak a look at Lauren who is grinning from ear to ear. I am never going to live this down.

Josh walks over to me and sits in the seat next to me which is usually occupied by a girl named Jessica. "So, when would be the best time for you?" he says under his breath.

"I'm free any time," I say, immediately wishing I could take it back. I don't want it to sound like I have no life at all.

"Could we start today?" he asks. "How about during the second half of lunch?"

"That works for me," I say casually. "Should we meet back in here then?"

"Alright," he says smiling. "See you then," He stands up and walks back to his seat among the tenors who give him congratulatory hi-fives and pats on the back.

"You are so lucky," Rebecca whispers, "He is amazing!"

"Trust me," I say, still slightly shocked, "I know."

The rest of the class period passes so slowly I feel like I'm going to die before it is finally time for lunch. At long last the bell rings and we all put our folders away and pick up our bags and notebooks. Josh walks up from behind and puts his hand on my shoulder, "Don't forget," he says quietly and walks off to lunch.

How could I?

Sam stares at me with her eyes wide, a toothy grin stretched across her face. She looks like she's going to explode.

"What?" I ask, even though I know exactly what she's smiling about.

"I'm just excited for you, that's all," She says. I look at the faces of Lauren and Rebecca who have the same looks in their eyes.

"Guys, calm down," I say, "It's not like I'm dating him! It's just a French lesson,"

"You never know what could happen," Lauren says. We all walk out of the choir room and down the hall to the lunchroom. We see an empty table and hurry over to claim it before another group of people sit down. We throw all of our bags onto the middle of the table and split up. Sam and Rebecca walk into the main lunch line while Lauren and I run to the salad bar.

"Are you excited?" Lauren asks.

"It's really not that big of a deal" I say exasperatedly, "I don't know why you three are freaking out like this," Meanwhile my stomach is flip-flopping and butterflies are dancing around inside me making it twice as bad. I probably wont even be able to eat much of this I think looking down at my tray of food.

We get to the end of our line with our trays full of salad and veggies and pay for our food. Lauren and I get to the table before Sam and Rebecca do so we set their stuff down on seats for them. I silently eat a couple bites of salad and munch on some baby carrots and pieces of broccoli. Knowing I can't eat much more I stir my salad consistently with my plastic fork. Sam and Rebecca sit down with their food and eat silently with sly smiles pasted on their faces. Every so often they look over at me, smile, look at each other, smile even bigger and giggle, and go back to eating. I can't stand it anymore. I get up, throw my tray of half eaten food away and go to roam through the main hall that wraps all the way around the school until its time for the lesson.

"Where are you going?" Lauren asks as I'm walking away.

"I'm going to go walk some laps around the hallways until it's…time," I reply over my shoulder.

"Wait for me," She says grabbing her backpack and tossing her tray into the trash can, "I'm coming too!"

"See you later," I say, waving to Sam and Rebecca.

"Bye," They reply through mouthfuls of food.

Lauren and I walk silently, side by side, through the crowded, noisy hallways. Neither of us make an effort to talk, but that's just fine with me. Lauren pulls out her cell phone every few seconds to check the time.

"When you hear the tone," I say in a cheery, mechanical voice, "The time will be…seven seconds since the last time you checked!"

"I'm sorry," she says with a sheepish grin, "I'm just so anxious!"

"Why are you anxious? I'm the one that has to go,"

"I know, but, still. You can't tell me you're not a little excited,"

"Well, yeah, a bit," I answer, annoyed, "But I still think you guys are overreacting,"

"OK, Riley," She says fishing out her cell phone once again. A smile spreads across her face, "It's time!"

I roll my eyes at her and laugh sarcastically. She links arms with me and we quickly walk to the choir room dodging groups of people chatting and laughing in the middle of the corridor. We round the corner and freeze at the door of the choir room.

"Have fun," she says giving me a hug.

"Thanks," I say laughing. I take a deep breath and open the choir room door. It squeaks as it opens wide. I take a step inside and peer around. The choir room is empty.

As I stand in the deserted room I notice music coming from one of the practice rooms in the back. I walk through the choir room to a closed door, look through the wired glass and see Josh sitting at a baby grand piano playing through his solo flawlessly. Immediately he stops playing and looks at the window. He smiles and gestures me to come in. I smile back sheepishly and open the door awkwardly.

"Sorry," I say, "I didn't mean to keep you waiting,"

"Oh, don't worry about it," he says scooting over on the bench, "I haven't been here long,"

I take my seat on a chair behind him and he turns around on the piano bench.
"I guess we should get started then," I say.

"That is what I'm here for," He says back raising his eyebrows.

"Right," I reply.

I pull out my music and read through the lines of text a few times before I open my mouth again. Josh is just sitting there, looking at me like I'm about to do an amazing circus act or something.

"Alright, " I start, "I'll go through it slowly and you just…repeat it back to me,"

"Sounds easy enough,"

I start out by pronouncing the words in syllables, then in full words, then in short phrases. Josh repeats the French as if he had been living in the heart of Paris since the day he was born.

"Are you sure you haven't taken French before?" I ask sarcastically.

"Never in my life," he says putting his hand over his heart.

"You really don't need this lesson you know, you can speak French better than I can!"

"Well then I guess I'll work on the music,"

"Oh," I mutter a little taken back, "Alright then," I start to stand up and walk toward the door when he stops me.

"Wait!" he says, "Can you play the piano?"

"A little," I reply hesitantly.

"Would you play this while I practice?"

"Oh, um, sure"

He pats the bench next to him and I slowly walk over and sit down and open the book of music.

"Ready?" Josh says eagerly..

"As I'll ever be," I reply. I had tried to sound witty, but I think it came out more shaky than I meant. As soon as I start playing Josh closes his eyes and a peaceful look takes over his face. He sings out the French melody and my heart melts. I try as hard as I can to focus on the music in front of me, but it's so hard not to just sit and stare.

Halfway through the solo Josh stops and looks at me with a questioning look on his face but doesn't say anything.

"Is everything ok?" I ask. I have no idea why he has stopped. Was it my playing? I didn't think I was that bad.

"Why did you stop?" He asks.

"Stop what?" I return. I didn't stop, you did…

"Why did you stop playin?," he returns.

I automatically look down at my hands which I have subconsciously locked together. They are now resting on my lap in a knot. I didn't even realize I had stopped.

"Sorry," I say as sincerely as possible. "Here, lets take it from measure 42." I rest my hands in position on the piano, ready to play.

"No, let's stop," he says, looking away, "The bell is going to ring soon anyway."

"Oh, right," I mutter, looking at the clock on the wall. There is still 15 minutes of lunch left…I think, discouraged.

Josh stands up, grabs his backpack, and walks out of the room without another word.

I lie back on the bench and sigh. Great! Just great! That was really smooth, Riley!

* * *

The next day I nearly inhale my lunch and leave the cafeteria as quickly as I can to get to Chemistry on time. I'm hoping with everything I have that I wont get stopped again by Dillan, but as I round the next corner I can tell that he wont be talking to me today. He's so wrapped up in another girl I barely realized it was him. I wind my way through crowds of chatting people in the hallway and finally make it across the school to the Chemistry room. I open the door and peer inside. There aren't many people in the room yet, but the ones who are are all standing around chatting or sitting at the new, larger tables that have replaced our old desks and messing around with the chemicals and test tubes that are sitting in the middle of the tables, probably to be used for a class experiment today.

Josh is seated at the desk that we now share with his head down and his eyes are intent on the notes he took last class period. My stomach turns into a knot and my cheeks flush red. I had planned on getting to class before he did. I slowly close the door without a sound, turn on my heel, and head toward the drinking fountain around the corner. The cold water flows down my throat and loosens the knot in my stomach enough that I am breathing at a more normal rate than before. I take a deep breath and walk back to the class room.

The bell rings as I open the door once more and I sneak into my seat without Mr. Gibson seeing me. I reach into my bag, pull out my "Notes" notebook and peer up at the board dreading the quiz that's written on it. My fear fades and I breathe a sigh of relief as I see two clean boards glowing back at me.

"As I'm sure you will have noticed," Mr. Gibson says as he makes the trip from his desk in the back of the room to the front of the class, "We will be doing a little experimenting today. I have seated you at these larger tables for your convenience and you will be doing this experiments with a partner." The room starts to bustle as students quietly discuss who they want as their partners. "No, you do not get to choose your own partner," Mr. Gibson says silencing the class and any thoughts they had about the situation, "that only leads to mass chaos. Your partners will be the person whose assigned seat is normally next to your own." At this announcement I sneak a look at Josh through the sheet of hair around my face. He is staring blankly at Mr. Gibson, his expression unreadable. His eyes dart in my direction and I quickly look back up at the front of the classroom. The blood rushes to my cheeks.

This is ridiculous! He has no reason to be acting like this, I never did anything wrong…

At this thought I sit up straight, tuck my hair behind my ears, and focus on Mr. Gibson who is now passing out the experiment materials.

Soon we are putting on our goggles, lab coats, and gloves and Mr. Gibson is taking us through the step-by-step instructions. "Now, grab a piece of potassium with the tongs and hold it over the flame."

I pick up the tongs and gingerly squeeze the chip of potassium and lift it over the small flame. Immediately the flame turns a blue-green color and the class gapes at the bright, dancing light.

A squeal from the back of the room makes me jump and drop the potassium on the table. In the back of the room the only thing visible is a tall stream of fire and so much smoke it is impossible to see who caused the small explosion. Small droplets of water come shooting out of the sprinklers in the ceiling and the fire alarm goes off blasting through the air like a fog horn.

"Everybody outside now!" Yells Mr. Gibson.

The room of students runs for the door and I manage to sneak through the massive traffic jam, across the parking lot and onto a grassy hill where I pull out my compact and look at myself in the small mirror.

"I look like a drowned raccoon!" I mutter.

"Oh, I don't think you look that bad"

I jump, dropping the compact into the grass and slowly turn my head to the left to find Josh sitting next to me on the hill.

"Josh!" I gasp, hastily wiping the eyeliner and mascara from underneath my eyes. "I didn't even see you…or hear you."

"Obviously," He says smiling. "I'm a ninja. Shhh!" He chuckles at his own humor

I give a weak laugh, unsure of what mood he is in at the moment. I swear, he is worse than a severely hormonal pregnant woman!



****NEW STUFF STARTS HERE!!!****

...carry on :D



The rest of the school day passes rather uneventfully as opposed to the crazy event Chemistry class. At last I get home, dump my school things off at the door, and collapse onto the recliner.

When I wake up it is three hours later and the smell of chicken alfredo and garlic bread is wafting in from the kitchen. I sit myself up, wipe the makeup from underneath my eyes and walk into the kitchen to greet my mother.

"So," she says dryly, "How was school today?"

I open the fridge and rummage through the shelves for a bottle of water before I answer her question. "Oh, you know," I say pausing to take a drink, "It was school,"

"You give me that answer every day," She says rolling her eyes. "Can't you come up with something original for a change?"

"Ask a stupid question, get a stupid answer," I say sarcastically.

"Ha ha," She half yells over the clanging of the cupboard full of pots and pans she is digging through. "Really, I want to know. What happened today?"

"In Chemistry, Maddie nearly singed off all of her facial hair, and we got to spend most of third period sitting on a hill watching firemen walk in and out of the school aimlessly. I swear, they brought every fireman they could round up from our department and the next three cities over and it only took two of them to actually put out the fire."

"Sounds…exciting," My mom says paying more attention to the cooking chicken than to me.

"Oh, yeah," I say back a little discouraged, "Super dooper exciting,"




In choir the next day Josh stands at the front of the class and sings the solo flawlessly just as he had always done. Once the song is finished, he bows a few times jokingly, soaking in the excitement and awe of the class before holding out a hand in my direction, shifting all attention to me.

He pulls me up to the front of the class and has them clap for me as well, but instead of being honored and bowing for doing my part I just stand awkwardly looking at the unenthusiastic faces of my classmates and the toothy grins that Lauren, Sam, and Rebecca have stretched across their faces. Once again all the blood rushes to my cheeks and my hands tie themselves into one big knot behind my back.

Josh gives me a small nudge; my signal to go back to my seat. My legs move stiffly and unwillingly, not because I want to continue to stand red-faced and lightheaded in front of my peers, but because of the gentleness and kindness in his touch. He follows me to my seat and, while Mrs. Cresh is getting the class settled down, he stands in front of me and puts my hand in his own. He uses his other hand to push my bangs, the only thing hiding my embarrassment, out of my eyes and whispers "Thank You." He smiles his crooked smile and his eyes never leave mine as he leans down and kisses my hand.

Countless butterflies erupt in my stomach and I shiver from head to toe. As he walks back to his seat I look at the face of Rebecca which is consumed by a mixture of shock and a hint of…jealousy? Her mouth is slightly agape. Lauren is beaming from ear to ear across the room and as I glance behind me I see Sam bouncing up and down in her seat. She catches my eye and gives me a thumbs up and a big grin.

As I turn my head back to Mrs. Cresh my eye lands on the face of Dillan who looks as shocked as Rebecca. I shrug my shoulders and smile weakly at him, but his expression doesn't change. He simply turns his head to the front of the room.

At the end of the period I am attacked by my three friends and on the outside I'm smiling, trying to act as excited as them, but inside I'm completely confused.

One minute he's my friend, the next he doesn't want anything to do with me. And then he acts all suave and debonair. Just you watch, tomorrow he's going to threaten to kill me or something…

"Riley?" Lauren asks bringing me out of my thoughts. She is waving her hand in front of my face.

"Oh, sorry," I say rubbing my forehead, "It's just been…a long day I guess…,"

Rebecca rolls her eyes at me with her hands on her hips, but Lauren and Sam stare at me like they don't understand a single thing I have said.

After school I go over to Lauren's house to help her with some English homework, but it is the furthest thing from her mind.

"So what exactly is going on between you two?" she asks me, her eyes wide.

"Honestly…I don't know," I answer. "Some days I'm his friend and others he acts as if he doesn't know me. I don't know what that kid's deal is,"

"Well then why don't you ask him?" She asks as if it was the simplest answer in the world. Her eyebrows raise when I don't answer right away.

"I…" I say trying to stall for time to think, "I don't even know him that well. It's not like he's my boyfriend and he's acting this way. Josh is my chemistry partner and that's it. Even though it is bugging me I can't act like it's a huge thing or else he will think I'm a freak that is obsessed with him or something,"

"No he won't," Lauren argues, "He will just think you are a friend who cares and is concerned."

"Do you really think so?" For some reason I'm not so sure it will be that easy.

"Of course," She replies assuringly.

After this we do actually try to do Laurens' homework, but it ends up being a huge gossip and giggle session.

At six I drive home and notice that my mom's car is not in her usual spot. I unlock the door and walk into the empty house confused. As I round the corner into the kitchen I see a note on the refrigerator.

Riley,

Gone to Las Vegas for the big meeting. I left you $100 for food and whatever. Have fun and don't get into too much trouble!

-Mom

I slide the bills from underneath the magnet and stash them in my pocket for later.

I sluggishly walk into the living room, find the T.V. remote and automatically start flipping through channels. As always, there is nothing good on so I settle on a cooking show which I pay absolutely no attention to.

My mind wanders back to earlier today; the smile, the kiss, the looks on Rebecca and Dillan's faces…

Why does high school have to be so stupid and confusing?

When I wake up the cooking show is long over and a older woman with a kind face is flaunting her "amazing cooking phenomenon" on an infomercial. I rub my face and look at the clock. My eyes stress to read the old fashioned clock face from across the room, but eventually I settle on around 11:30 at night.

I turn off the T.V., go downstairs to my room and don't even bother changing my clothes before flopping onto my bed. As soon as I set my alarm and turn off the lamp beside my bed I am asleep.



****More new stuff****

The next morning I get ready for school uncertain of how to feel. "Don't get your hopes up," I murmur to myself, "Today he is scheduled to blow you off completely,"

At that moment I decide to keep strictly to myself.

At lunch, conversation is at an all-time low. Lauren looks just as worried as I feel, Rebecca is eating silently with her eyes squinted and her lips pursed and Sam is looking between us all trying to figure out what is going on.

By the time the bell finally rings the awkward silence has only been interrupted once or twice with some random bits of mindless conversation by Sam just so it wouldn't be so tense.


I walk towards Chemistry slowly and unsurely. "Don't get your hopes up. Don't get your hopes up," I chant under my breath. Expect nothing.


As I round the last corner I literally run into Dillan. "Oh, hi Riley," he says flustered. He avoids my eyes and walks briskly around me. Now I'm completely confused. I have never seen him act like that…toward anyone.

I walk into class and Josh has not shown up yet. I breathe a big sigh of relief. I'm safe…for now.


I sit down and flip through the small packet of papers that has been put on every table. It is the instructions for today's experiment. Something about how different chemicals react in different liquids. This assignment is very similar to the previous experiments we did, or rather, tried to do, last class period

As the bell rings I faintly hear the door squeak as it opens. I turn my eyes slightly and see Josh slip into the seat next to me. I try to analyze his expression. His face is smug, but only for a second. The smile quickly fades as Mr. Gibson takes the floor and starts explaining today's task.

I try to focus all of my attention on Mr. Gibson making sure to keep my eyes off of, and away from, anywhere near Josh. The attempt at concentrating doesn't work. Mr. Gibson might as well be speaking ancient Greek. Everything he says goes in one ear and directly out the other.

We manage to make it halfway through the class without any explosions or fires, but its not over yet. Josh hasn't said much except for the occasional "Pass me the zinc," or something else related to the experiment, just as I had suspected.

Throughout the class period half of me is longing for him to give me some sign that he thinks of me as more than just a lab partner, but he has shown none whatsoever. Just as I am about to give up hope on today completely he walks away to talk to one of his buddies.

Well there goes that hope. I sigh. In my pocket my phone vibrates making me give a little yelp and I drop my tongs, landing with a clang, on the desk. I turn away from Mr. Gibson, not like he would care anyway, and open my cell phone to find one new text message waiting for me. I click view.

Can I talk to you alone after class?

-Josh

How in the world did he get my phone number?

As I read through the message again I notice that the number of the sender is familiar. That's not possible. I don't even know Josh's cell phone number…I search through my list of contacts and find the matching number. It belongs to Keith, a boy I was set up on a date with a couple months ago. I had given my number to him so that he could call me with the details.

I sneak a look over in Josh's direction and see that he is standing right next to Keith with his back to me.

He must be using Keith's phone. I realize. Great now I'm even more confused. I didn't think that was possible.

We start to clean up a few minutes before the bell rings and as I reach for the tongs and dishes Josh has the same idea and his hand brushes against my own. Instead of pulling away immediately like my gut tells me, I wait for his reaction instead. I look up at him and meet his smiling eyes for only a second before he pulls his hand away taking the dishes with him.

When the bell rings my stomach erupts with butterflies. What could he want to talk to me about? I look around the room, but I don't see Josh anywhere. Where could he be? I furrow my eyebrows in frustration.

I pick up my bag and walk out of the room half angry, half disappointed.

Why didn't he wait for me?

Just as this question flashes across my mind someone grabs my hand from behind.

"Dillan, not now I…" I freeze in shock as I see that the one holding my hand isn't Dillan; It's Josh.

"You were expecting someone else?" He asks with his eyebrows raised amused.

"N-no! It's just that I-I…well I just…" I stammer, pulling my hand away awkwardly.

"It's alright," He laughs, placing his hand on my shoulder. "I was only joking."

"Oh," I sigh with relief. "So…what did you want to talk about?" I ask slowly avoiding his eyes.

"Well, I just-OOF!" The wind is knocked from his chest and his hand slips off of my shoulder. I look at him and find him trapped in a hug by a girl slightly shorter than him with shoulder-length blonde hair and dark green eyes. She looks slightly familiar, but I don't know her by name. She kisses him hard on the cheek.

"Hey, Joshy," The girl says in a sickeningly sweet way. "How's it going?" She finally releases him from the death-grip.

My stomach knots and my hands form fists at my side.

"Oh, hey Sarah," he says. "I would like you to meet my friend, Riley,"

"Hi," I say through gritted teeth. I smile as best I can, but my facial muscles are resisting.

"Riley, this is my sister, Sarah," he says putting an arm around her.

His sister? Instantly my entire body relaxes. "Nice to meet you," I say with a sincere smile.

"Like-wise," She replies.

"So do you go to school here?" I ask. "I don't really remember seeing you around here much,"

"I have a couple of classes here," She replies. "But most of my classes are over at the college,"

That would explain a lot.

"Yeah," Josh says, "Sarah's the nerd in the family, and she makes me look bad," he adds laughing, "When we were in the womb she took all of my brains,"

"You guys are twins?" I ask shocked. I would have guessed that Sarah was a couple years older at least.

"Yep," They answer together.

"Wow, that's cool," I reply.

"Well, anyway," Sarah says. "I'll leave you two alone. I have to get over to the college before I'm late for my next class. See you, Josh! Oh, and nice meeting you Riley!"

"You too," I say as she walks away. "She seems nice," I add to Josh nodding my head in her direction.

"Oh, she is," He says nodding his head in agreement, "Until you get to know her that is," He laughs jokingly.

"Josh, I know you wanted to talk to me, but I really need to get to class. Can it wait?" I ask, even though I don't want to leave.


"No, it can't," He replies sternly. "What is your next class?" He asks.

"French III,"

"I'll walk you there," he says turning me the opposite way toward the French room.

We walk for a moment in silence. The crowds of people in the hallway have died down, proving how close the break is to being over.

Part of a new story

As I walk through the crowded cafeteria in the center of the small college campus my head is swimming, full of things I need to do. I scan the rows of tables trying to find an open seat. To my left is a table of snarky sorority girls with a couple seats empty. I hesitantly make way over to the table, but stop cautiously when one of the girls, a skinny blonde, with perfect, Barbie-like features, looks my way. I look down and mindlessly rearrange the food on my tray trying to ignore the mocking laughter and almost painful glares coming from the girls. I look up slightly, peering through the sheet of dark hair now hanging in my face. I can tell by the look in the girl’s eyes that I am not welcome. I immediately take a step in a different direction.
As I walk aimlessly across the space, an entire table of football players stands and makes their way outside laughing raucously and punching each other. I sit at the empty table and eat alone. I look at table after table of laughing faces and cheerful eyes and feel a pang of loneliness. It has been nearly two months since the semester started and nearly three since I moved away from my friends and what is left of my family back in Chicago. Now I sit in a new school, in a small town in Nevada, where I know no one except for my two roommates Kat and Bianca, both of which have better things to do than sit around the dorm room and chat and both of which are sitting across the cafeteria with the snippy blonde girl.
I eat in silence glancing around the lunch room now and then observing the activity at the other tables making my heart ache a little bit more with each smiling face. As soon as I finish my lunch, I slowly make my way across campus to my next class. My thoughts and stresses bounce throughout my mind and I can feel my muscles become tense. It takes me a moment to realize that a girl is walking beside me, a hopeful grin stretched across her face.
“Hello?” The girl asks timidly, “I’m Lilly. I think you’re in my next class. Humanities, right?”
“Uh, yeah” I reply shaking my head a little to clear my thoughts. “Hi, my name’s Aletta.”
The conversation ends there. We walk in silence toward the northern part of campus. Finally Lilly speaks, her voice cracking.
“Are you alright? You seem a little…stressed.”
I bite the inside of my lip trying to keep the words I so desperately need to say from spilling. Just wait until you can write it all down. You can wait that long, I urge myself. “No, I’m okay.” I answer as coolly as possible.
“Are you sure? You’re all twitchy and your muscles are tense.”
“Do you really want to know why I’m so freaked out?!” I blurt a bit too harshly.
Slowly Lilly nods her head, her eyes slightly frightened.
I take a deep breath and regretfully let the chaos break free. “My mother died a month ago. I started school in a college on the other end of the country. My dad is so drunk and doped up on anti-depressants that he has no idea what’s going on. My brother is on a “self-search” expedition in France, and is totally disconnected from my family. I have seven tests within two weeks along with four opinion papers, three with the same due date. I’m taking overlapping classes from professors who could care less and I’m working two jobs to pay for it all.”
I take another deep breath and stretch my hands out of the cramped fists they had formed. I slowly turn my head toward Lilly, half expecting her to have run away, but there she stands with a sympathetic look on her face, her dark green eyes comforting.
“Feel better?”
“Much actually.” I take yet another deep breath and squeeze my eyes shut trying to relax my muscles.
As fate would have it my toe catches on the cracked cement path and I fall hard onto my knees, my armful of books and binders flying. Lilly’s warning shoots through the air a little too late but she is at my side in an instant. I slowly open my eyes as I hear my books and binders slap the ground. I frantically reach for the papers fluttering away in the breeze and shove them into my bag one by one. Just as I reach for my Biology book the same blonde haired sorority girl walks by and kicks the book with one of her high heeled feet, a wide smirk on her face. The book flips across the grass and flies open landing on it’s pages.
Lilly pushes herself up from the ground and dashes across the lawn to where the book lays crumpled. She quickly picks it up and starts scavenging for any other loose papers that may have gotten away and then slips the book and papers into my arms.
“Thanks,” I mutter, my face flushing red.
Once we get everything picked up and safely put into my bag we head off toward our class once again.
“I hate her,” I mumble after a few moments of silence. “I don’t even know her and I hate her.”
“I don’t think that’s entirely fair,” Lilly says softly, her face slightly shocked.
“Did you not just see that entire thing?” I ask in disbelief. “I’ve never done anything to her! I don’t even know her name!”
We fall silent again as we make our way up the steps to the Science building. I blink my eyes hard to force back the tears that are threatening to spill. It only takes that long for my foot to catch on a step just a short way from the top, but this time Lilly catches me by the arm and keeps me from falling to the concrete.
“Thanks,” I murmur, my cheeks flushing a deeper red.
Lilly smiles and stifles a laugh. “Walking really isn’t your thing is it?”
I laugh at myself as I feel more blood rush to my face. “Are you kidding?” I ask sarcastically. “Gravity is totally against me. I trip just thinking about it.”