The Bad Boy's Snowflake

Chapter 2: "Doing It" in a Closet

The next day, I walk through the front doors and to my locker. I grab my books. Suddenly, someone's hands are on my eyes.

"Guess who?" the person asks.

I'd know who the voice belongs to anywhere, so I decide to mess with him a little bit. I begin to guess all the boys on the baseball team. Then, I guess Aidan, Tyler, and Tommy. Finally, I guess Sadie. He immediately takes his hands off my eyes and spins me toward him. Mark looks at me with an annoyed face.

"I guess I can understand any of the boys you named," he starts, "but Sadie? Really?"

I smile and shrug. "How could I not guess Sadie? You sound like a girl sometimes."

He gasps and puts his hand over his heart. "I'm feeling hurt, Catherine. I really am."

I roll my eyes and laugh. He laughs as well.

"Listen, Catherine-" he starts, but he is interrupted by the bell.

I smile. "Sorry, Mark, but I have to get to class. See you later!"

I swear I hear him murmur something as I walk away, but I ignore it. Kind of. His murmur makes me start having doubts. What if's flood my thoughts.

What if he doesn't like me? What if this is some sort of dare? Or joke? What if I do something wrong? I've never been on a date before. This is going to end in a disaster. Or start as a disaster. What am I supposed to do? Maybe I can cancel? What if I tell him I'm sick? Will he believe me?

I shake all these thoughts out of my head. This makes an almost worse thought come into my head, though. I wish I could take it back, but I can't. It is too logical.

Why did Mark ask me out?

This makes self-doubts rush into my head.

I'm not pretty. I'm not smart. I'm not like a normal girl. I don't dress like other girls, I don't wear my hair like other girls, I hate to shop unlike other girls. I'm not like the other girls he usually hangs out with. Why would he like me? Why should he like me?

At lunch, I voice these concerns to my friends.

"Not smart?" Elle asks. "Catherine, you're in all honors classes and get all A's!"

"But Henry Collins gets all A+'s!" I protest.

"Catherine," Sadie says, "you are pretty. You just refuse to see it because you're not like all the other girls at this school who have blonde hair and blue eyes."

She is partly correct. I don't look like all the other girls at this school. I have long, brown hair and green eyes. I don't have blonde hair and blue eyes. I'm not a dumb blonde like most other girls are.

Still, I open my mouth to deny it, but Macy beats me to speaking.

"Not an normal girl?" she asks. "Really, Catherine? Get a dictionary and show me the definition of a normal girl."

I sigh. Macy's right. There is no definition of a normal girl.

"Catherine," Sadie says gently. "Why shouldn't he like you?"

They stare at me expectantly, but I have no answer. Except for saying I'm pretty, they are correct. I rack my brain to find an answer. I think of an answer when I see a prime example.

I'm not a slut," I point to Tommy.

There is a blonde sitting on his lap. She is wearing shorts that barely cover butt and a crop top that barely covers her bra. The blonde is practically eating his face off.

I turn back to my friends in disgust.

"Those clothes should be illegal," Elle says with disgust evident in her voice.