Chapter 2

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So I officially failed my first real attempt at talking to a guy. At least, that’s what it seemed like. I was no expert, but I’m pretty sure I knew a ding-dong-ditch when I saw one. Wren definitely did not wait to see what the door to our future held in store. You know, he also might have run away because of my extreme dork status (i.e., that little bit about ding-dong-ditch is super weird).

I tried to move on during the day, but unfortunately, like before, Wren was always on my mind. I truly dislike sounding like one of those desperate and boy-crazy girls, but I spoke the truth. Wren Oscar had won me over big time.

If only I could say the same.

“You need to lighten up, spice it up, and eat it up.” Jemma said, sliding into the bench beside me. I pretended not to notice the large, red D at the top of her Physics paper and instead, scooted over to give her more room. “Why are you moping? Did you see Beach Boy?”

“His name is Wren,”

Jemma’s mouth nearly fell open. I said nearly because Jemma never eats with her mouth open, so she really struggled, as she had just taken a bite of her salad. She swallowed, patted her lips with a napkin, and then turned to face me. “Did you say Wren? Like Wren Oscar?”

“You know him?”

“You didn’t?” She was incredulous, her eyes wide. “He’s like, only one of the cutest guys at school.”

“What else do you know about him?”

“He’s super smart, skateboards, swims, and occasionally sings.” Jemma shrugged, poking her salad. “He has some sister, who is like also super smart, so she moved up into our grade. I just don’t know who the heck she is.”

I gave her an appreciative smile and as she babbled on, I imagined Wren’s face and tried to place it on the girls in our grade. Sadly, no one came up. I looked across the cafeteria and found Wren, laughing at some jock table, slapping chests and hands and the table. They actually kind of looked like cavemen, their hearty laughs booming around the room.

After two minutes of full-on stalking, I decided to do something about it.

I got my stuff and walked out of the cafeteria, leaving an obviously confused Jemma and probably an oblivious Wren (and an equally undiscovered and uncaring sister of Wren). I shoved my lunch into my locker and pulled out my Physics binder and journal. No harm in being early to class.

Apparently, I wasn’t the only nerd alive. A petite girl sat in the back of the room, glasses on the bridge of her nose. She looked up and smiled and I slowly smiled back. Then someone brushed past me and I realized she was never smiling at me at all. The girl who she greeted was tall, with long, wavy red hair. She looked like a model, her eyes big and green, eccentric.

The only thing was, she was a geek. You could tell by her ratty, lime sweater and long dress, by the book she shoved her nose into and the way she eliminated everyone else in the room. She scratched her arms and nose, did some weird coughing noise in her throat. All the while, her petite best friend scribbled in the notepad on the desk, unaware of the world around her as well.

The petite one looked up at me and I realized I had just been standing there, staring. I quickly shuffled and turned around, leaving her to stare at my soon to be sweaty back. Five, ten minutes passed and I quietly sat in my chair. The girls behind me giggled sometimes and whispered, but I honestly did not care. Wren was still on my mind and I kept trying to think of a face that matched his.

I didn’t know that I’d soon get my answer.

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Class had started soon after and Jemma strolled in late, passing Mr. Fernandez a note as she strutted by him. If he was annoyed, he didn’t let on. Maybe because Jemma’s parents basically paid for this school, maybe not. Either way, she knew he wouldn’t be mad because as soon as she sat down beside me, she decided she would start a conversation.

“Did you find Beach Boy yet?”

Mr. Fernandez coughed. “I don’t mean to interrupt your little conversation, but we do have a class schedule right about now.”

“It’s okay, you can start.” I widened my eyes at her and she turned to Mr. Fernandez, flashing a smile. “Only kidding,”

That day, we were supposed to do a lab. It was a simple lab really, just something about cars and velocity and speed. It really shouldn’t have been that difficult. In fact, it wasn’t really that difficult. But being partners with Jemma made it so. No offense to my friend of many years, but she struggled with the basics.

“What does this even mean? Velocity? Tangential speed? What?” A girl to her right chuckled and Jemma spun around in her chair, glaring. I knew never to mess with Jemma about grades (her parents were incredibly smart, as was her Princeton-bound older brother), but this girl didn’t know she crossed a line. “Something funny to you?”

“Only the fact that you don’t know what velocity is,” The girl was what some called “goth.” Her eyeliner was black, her nails were black, and her hair was dark to match. She looked like someone out of a Tim Burton movie.

“Jemma, let’s finish.” I said.

“You know what I find funny?” Jemma’s eyes were in narrow slits now.

“No, nor do I care, but I’m sure you’ll tell me.”

“The fact that you think its cool to look like you just walked out of a funeral. News flash, goth was never and will never be in.”

“Ladies,” Mr. Fernandez called from his desk in front. “Please, focus on your work.”

Jemma turned around. “Can you believe her?”

“Just because you turn around doesn’t mean I can’t hear you,”

Jemma whipped back around. “I know that,”

“You sure?”

Someone chuckled and Jemma’s face turned red. She leaned over, took the girl’s car in her hands, and broke it into little pieces. The girl, for once, actually changed the emotion on her face. “What the heck?”

Another laugh from somewhere in the back of the room. Mr. Fernandez sighed and walked over to us, his arms crossed. Goth Girl looked up at him sheepishly. Jemma decided she wouldn’t even try and pretend she was upset. I just did my best to look uninvolved and uninterested.

No such luck.

“Detention, all three of you,”

“But I didn’t even do anything,” I protested.

Mr. Fernandez eyed me. “We can make it a week’s detention,”

“No, really Mr. Fernandez,” a girl behind me said. “She wasn’t doing anything,”

“Detention for you too, Paulina,” Mr. Fernandez said. He looked around the Physics lab, a small grin on his face. Someone must get a high from bossing around children all day. His eyes fell on someone in the back. “Anyone else? Kari, you can’t take your eyes off that book when I’m talking to you, but you can to laugh at these girls up here. Detention.”

I looked at the geeky redhead, Kari I guess, and attempted to give her an apologetic look. I don’t know why, since I hadn’t even done anything in the first place. She, however, did not return the favor. She just buried her face in her book again and shut out the rest of the world.

Maybe I should try that.

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