It Could've Been Worse

Chapter One

Why do popular girls squeal so much? "Oh. My gosh. They're here! They actually came here! I'm going to meet them and they're going to fall in love with them-" and then I stopped caring.

I shrugged deeper into my sweatshirt and started pulling textbooks out of my locker and putting them in my bag. My locker was alphabetized, and my schedule was color-coded to match. If I had a green textbook, that class was highlighted in green, and so on. Today was Algebra 2, then biology, English and theatre before lunch, and I decided I would get pizza. I like planning.

"Good morning!"

I groaned. "Leah, it's seven fifty on a Monday morning. You can't possibly be this excited."

My best friend didn't seem to care. "But there are only twelve more days until Christmas, Eva!"

"Ten of which are spent in school. Bah humbug."

Leah started humming "We Need A Little Christmas". The girls across the hall were still hysterical. Partly because I was curious and partly because I wanted her to shut up, I asked, "What are they so excited about?" I nodded toward them.

"Apparently One Direction is coming to town," Leah got a little-girl smile all of the sudden, but she sang it, like "Santa Claus is Coming To Town."

"Really?" I asked brightly.

"Yeah!"

"I don't care. And stop singing Christmas songs. They're annoying."

Leah shifted her weight. "Geez, Eva. Are you always this depressed?"

"Only on Mondays." I slammed my locker shut and brushed my dark brown hair from my eyes. "What's One Direction doing in the middle of Colorado, anyway?"

"Uh, they're on tour?"

"No really."

"Eva, come on! Are you really not excited at all?" Leah was blond and pretty, and right now she reminded me of the girls across the hall.

I sighed. "No, it's just a stupid boy band. With stupid songs. 'That's what makes you bea-u-ti-ful!'" I mimicked with half-hearted jazz hands. "And then there's that stalker song with, like, the weird 'cha's instead of 'you." I shouldered my messenger bag more firmly. "I'll stick to my indie stuff, thank you very much."

"Okay, so maybe you don't like their music. And maybe I do. I mean, it's not like I'm gonna marry them or anything, but they're not that bad. You don't do anything social. If I go, will you come with me?"

The bell rang. Grateful to end the conversation, I said, "I gotta get to algebra. You don't want to be late!"

As I got pushed by the crowd, Leah yelled after me, "I'll even pay for your ticket! Merry Christmas!" There was a beat. "You'll be the only tenth grade girl not going!"

"See you at lunch!" I said.

"So you'll think about it?"

And then I was in the algebra classroom. "Probably not," I muttered.

"Probably not what?" Introducing Will, the official popular guy/jock hero of Benjamin Franklin High. He even sat on top of his desk like he was too cool to actually sit in it. Think of him like the guy from High School Musical. But I don't think he can sing...and he's better looking, I think.

"Nothing," I said, sliding into my desk. "You'd think it was stupid, even if I did tell you. Which I'm not going to."

He pretended to think for a second. "Let me guess. One Direction?" He raised an eyebrow.

I raised an eyebrow back. "How did you know?"

He threw up his hands like, hey! Not my fault. "Girls are pretty loud. Okay, let me guess again. Your best friend-what's her name?-Reba?"

"Leah," I supplied.

"Leah, wants you to go either a, because she likes them, or b, because she thinks it'd be cool but you don't want to. Hence, 'probably not'."

I gaped. "Wow, you're..."

"Psychic? Yes, I am. And you, Miss I-hate-Mondays-and-Christmas-and-love-my-black-sweatshirt, you should go. It'd be good for you."

"I swear, Will. Do you stalk me?"

"What?" He said it like it was about sixteen syllables. He made a noise with his lips. "No."

I raised both my eyebrows this time.

"Really, no. I don't. You're just easy to read, is all. Anyway, you should go to their concert. They're not that bad. Trust me. I'm a guy, and I'm saying that."

"One, that's kind of creepy," I said laughing, "and two, thanks. I might change that 'probably not' into an 'I'll actually spend about five seconds worth of brainpower on this,'".

The bell rang and he coolly slid into his chair as the teacher marched in with perfect punctuality. "Glad I could help," he whispered, flashing me a typical ooh-I'm-so-likeable grin.

I gave him a sarcastic-albeit trying to hide a laugh-smile.

As I tuned out the algebra teacher like I did almost all the time, I started seriously considering the concert. I mean, a bunch of guys (who I wasn't about to call ugly) singing stupid songs for two, three hours max? How bad could that possibly be?

As I was about to learn, very.