The Outlier II

FIVE

It became somewhat of a routine. 

Nicholas— Nick, as he now allowed me to call him— made a habit of grabbing breakfast and coffee together in the mornings before Mr. Mason's weekend philosophy class. It's the kind of thing that people considered a date, but I doubted he or I considered it one. 

There was none of that chivalrous nonsense. He didn't show up early, pull out my chair, or even offer to drive me. He showed up perfectly on time— sometimes even late, he let me pull out my own chair, and there was no 'let me get the check', without missing a beat the check was always split two ways between us. It felt like breakfast and coffee with a friend, and heaven knows how long I've been in this grimy town without a genuine local friend. 

Nick's company was growing less informal somewhere after our third breakfast. He also managed to inform me that the friend group that had adopted me at the beginning of the year was the appointed popular clique of Forks High. 

"What do you mean they're the popular lot?" I scoffed 

"I mean, they're Forks High's it squad. The 'peaked in high school' group," Nick said. 

"That group is who you've appointed as the popular group?" I somewhat exclaimed. 

"Hey! Don't blame me, I didn't elect them as anything," he retorted, "if it were up to me people would see how shallow they are. Maybe that'll be after that clique has stopped brainwashing the student body with their talk of the euthanasia of prom." 

"I suppose it does make sense," I quietly mused. 

"What does?" 

"Them being the popular clique," I repeated. "I mean, their dating circle is small. Everyone's dating everyone in that little group. The guys there think that a few pleasant conversations automatically makes you indebted to them, to be repaid in the form of a prom date. The girls with the strongest presence are straight-up mean." 

"Those are all blaring signs of a popular lot," I conceded. 

"It seems that you don't like them very much either," Nick laughed. 

"Did I make it too obvious?" 

"No, but I was able to sense the venom dripping from your tone as you spoke," he said. 

"You know, you should really hang out with us at school," Nick offered. "You and your Scottish friend." 

"Who's us?" 

"The greatest people Forks has ever seen. I present to you... Beth Daws, Tara Galvez, D.J. Garrett, and yours truly." 

"I'll need to do a trial run first, of course. Y'know, interrogate everyone to see if I'm hanging out with people who have taste," I sarcastically responded, "check up on favourite music, films, books— only after I've done a complete and thorough sweep I'll allow myself to consider the possibility of hanging out with you guys." 

"I believe anyone will be a major upgrade from the group you hang out with on the regular." 

***

Mr. Mason had a completely different demeanor during his seminar-like classes than he did during his English classes. Something about the way he carried himself, did a complete turn for the better. Though of course, he still had some essence of the literature-loving Mr. Mason that I knew from the classrooms of Forks High School. 

"Change," Mr. Mason— or Professor Mason as I'm allowed to call him— announced, "Is a grand concept. Too much of it may drive a person mad. Too little of it can create an individual so close-minded, it's insufferable."