Sleepless Beauty, A Novel

Chapter One - Nate

To my knowledge, nothing can be perfect. Not even a logical, scientific debriefing that took a lifetime to put together. But to my surprise, some things can be perfect. For instance, the most beautiful girl in Westwood High. Lexie Morgan. Her hair glowed a silvery blonde, and the gems encased in aqueous around her eyes shined a nice shade of light blue. Maybe I was over exaggerating, but not even the girls in our school could disagree.

That was the problem, she was a plastic. Is that what all the Mean Girls fans call people like her these days? I don't know, and don't you dare ask me how I know that movie. Let's just say sisters are extremely weird and find it necessary for me to watch girly movies like that with them.

Anyway, the first time I saw her, I choked on my sandwich. Literally. I'd heard there was a gorgeous new girl at school (who gets a new kid in the middle of the year? Our school, Westwood High, apparently).  And of course I had to see her at lunch. Just when that group of girls were all together.

Her flowing blonde hair was draped down her back, her hips swayed slightly with each step, her navy crop-top and jeans accenting her blue eyes magnificently. And that's when I choked on my sandwich. Right as she walked past me to her table with the plastics. Ugh. I'm pathetic.

Of course they all started cracking up and laughing how a geek liked the new girl. Lexie turned pink and sat her tray down at the table, avoiding my gaze. Eventually, their laughter died down, going back to their stupid conversation about shoes or hair or makeup. Typical popular girl stuff.

Malaise sat next to me, setting her tray filled with chicken tenders and fruit in front of her. She held some papers along with her pencil pouch, obviously she hadn't done her geometry homework from last night. "Hey geeks," she nods at Mick, Ethan, and I. Malaise had known us since the beginning of middle school, and she had the same nerd factor as the rest of us so I have no clue why she refers to us as geeks.

"How's that comic been going for yah?" Mick says to Malaise. I notice the mixture of sketch papers with her jumble of homework.

"Its been good, I showed it to Mr. Oxford and he said I should continue them,"

"Sweet," I add in, trying to draw my eyes away from Lexie and the small bit of soggy bread that was launched to the back of my throat when she passed by. "Let me see one of the panels," I drag her papers across the table, but she quickly snatches them from me.

"You guys aren't aloud to see them until they're finished. I'm trying to have them published." she tucks them under her tray.

"Why?" Ethan asks. Mick nudges him and says,

"She just told you smart one," we share a laugh. Malaise gives us a brief explanation of the comic and continues to eat her lunch while talking. The sound of her lips smacking and the grapes exploding in her mouth disgusts me, and I gaze back over to Lexie and her posey. They ate, talked, and were even poised like queens. Mick bangs on the table to grasp my attention. "Nate you've been staring at that new bitch for like ten minutes,"

"Actually, it was like 30 seconds. But either way, you're still being a creep." Malaise adds.

"She's not a bitch, Mick. She's just-"

"A bitch," he interrupts. I turn to him and gently smack him on the cheek. "Dude, it's true. Maybe if she were hanging around a different group of people she woudn't be one,"

"Nate's just in love, Mick. You're just jealous because that mine field all over your face keeps exploding your way out of a relationship," Malaise gestures to his pimples. Mick frowns and I laughed so hard I almost choked on my sandwich again. Ethan giggles into the book he had practically attached to his eyes.

The lunch bell rings, and a hoard of ninth graders pile into the lunchroom, while we tenth graders hurry out to get to fourth period. I dump my leftovers into a trash bin and place my tray on the lunch counter to be cleaned. Malaise hurdles herself at me, trying to avoid the quarterback who picks up a freshman by his collar. I nearly fall as her weight was too much for a skinny guy like me to handle. She helps me regain my balance, and we walk together to Geometry.

Malaise was the lesser of two evils between her and Mick. Ethan didn't really talk, and when he did, it was usually an incorrect math equation or something about dragons. He didn't really bother me as much as Mick did. But somehow we all remained friends. Malaise was the same height as me, but pretty much double the muscle. Mick was passive aggressive when the time came. And Ethan was the shy dork. An extremely odd group of four, but somehow it works. Opposites attract I guess, leading me back to why I like Lexie.

She was perfect, and I snort when I laugh. She was gorgeous, and I was average. She was popular and I choked on a ham and cheese sandwich when she walked by.
The matter of fact hit me hard when I realized we would probably never end up together.

The Geometry room came into site at the end of the hall. My seat was near the front, next to Ms. Clay's desk. You could hear the moans of full teenagers walking into the room after us. Math was shunned at Westwood, if you were seen enjoying it, well, you'd basically become as low as Malaise, Ethan, Mick, and I. We sit at our seats, prepared for the endless equations and probability problems that we literally learned in the seventh grade. They were extremely complicated now, but no biggie.

I pull out a sheet of clean notebook paper and my trusty lead pencil that I only use in math. Ms. Clay walks in, with a half chewed apple in hand. She throws it in the recycling bin and I question how Earth is still a healthy planet. She pushes her glasses up and scribbles down random problems from her math book propped upright on her desk.

This sheet was basically the exit pass. If you didn't finish, you had to stay until you did. An unnecessary process but still accepted by the board of education.

The next fifteen minutes were a blur. I handed my paper in without even checking my answers and rushed out of the room to go to the library. It's mandatory study hall if you finish your paper early, according to Ms. Clay. Malaise liked to take her time, because she hated doing homework, supported by the evidence at lunch.

I push open the glass doors leading to the library and sit at an empty table in the back. I grabbed my English journal and flip to where I last left off on the research paper we were assigned yesterday. My hands start shaking as if something dangerous had entered the room, and to my surprise something had. Lexie Morgan, hair tied up in a messy bun which was definitely not there at lunch, walks into the room, looking for an empty seat. My heart sinks when she pulls up a chair to the table, which I remind you that I am sitting at, and places her books next to mine.