Suicide Blonde cont.

vii

I had finally succumbed to the pressure of my mother and counselor to join the yearbook club. I was assigned probably the worst of any job; traveling with Ridgemont's girls volleyball team to take photos for their sports page. I had a camera that was school property with me, a press pass (I could not believe that those existed for high schoolers), and a hat and gloves for the bitter cold weather outside. I sat on the visitor's side consisting of myself and a group of about six parents. Opposite of us sat the entire JV team for both teams, and even a small student section consisting of boys and girls for the opponent's team.

I had caught myself in the mirror while visiting the bathroom during halftime. My eyes had deep purple bags underneath of them, my blonde hair was a bit of a mess yet I didn't have a ponytail to tame it, and an oversized, tan sweater laid on me heavily underneath my parka that I had put on for the lavatory journey. I returned back to my seat, cursing myself for taking this assignment.

It wasn't until we went into a fourth game that I saw a familiar face enter through the door. He spotted me immediately, a large grin appearing on his face. He vigorously waved at me, his hair styled up with a black pea coat protecting him from the intense air.

He quickly made his way to the seat next to me, nudging my arm.

"Hey Verona," he said, a large smile still plastered into his face.

"And what are you doing here?" I asked, my eyes tiredly staring at him.

"You told me you were going here tonight and I wanted to hang out with my friend," he said, his hands buried deep into his coat pockets.

"My photos are shit," I laughed, looking through a few I had snapped.

"I highly doubt anyone will notice," he laughed, sending me a wink. I rolled my eyes, turning the camera off.

"Big fan of volleyball?" I asked him.

"If sleeping with three of the girls on the team counts then sure," he said, a dead serious expression on his face. My mouth went agape, looking at the court and then back at him. "Seriously?"

"I'm fucking with you. Only two of them. Number 8 and 25."

"I know their names, dumb ass. I mean, we have been going to school together since pre-k," I said. Harry's eyebrows intertwined in confusion. "I thought you moved here freshman year?"

"You're really being a Grade-A asshole right now," I told him, an unsatisfied expression overcoming my face. I attempted not to let his words get the best of me.

"Again, joking, Verona. Do you not remember in primary when we were assigned to do a science project together?" he asked. I shook my head no.

Harry suddenly took my hands in his, staring me straight in the eye. "Can we leave, please? This game is utterly boring, and Lou and Li are hanging out. Come on, it's a Friday night, don't waste yours just sitting here all lonesome. Come with me. We have weed."

I raised my left eyebrow, not breaking our eye contact. God, was he gorgeous.

"Do you guys just rant about how much you hate society when you smoke?" I asked. He laughed, shaking his head. "We are not Roger and his little bitches. We'll probably smoke a bit and just play Lou's gamecube," he told me. I stood up, put on my parka and nodded my head once. "Let's go."

Harry told me he had taken a bus and walked the rest of the way to the opponent's school. I threw him my keys and jumped into the passenger seat.

Harry made conversation about pot on our way to Louis', wondering what I knew about it.