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The next morning, Jonathan shows me how his camera works before school starts. "So you click that button—" Jonathan explains as I hold the camera up to his face. "—and it takes the photo." I click the button, and wait for the Polaroid to come out to see what the photo looks like. "Looking good, Jonathan." I smirk as it develops, showing him the photo. He rolls his eyes. "Oh, sure. My face looks like the definition of beef jerkey." I laugh at his comment, but stop laughing when the familiar loud engine belonging to Billy's Camaro roars through the parking lot. He zooms into a parking place, and immediately gets out of the car. wearing a flannel and a shirt that was buttoned halfway down, exposing his abs. He is such a cliche. The redhead skates over to the middle school yet again. Billy strolls into the school with an unreadable expression. "Wow. I'd never have the guts to wear that to school." Jonathan comments, referring to Billy's halfway buttoned down shirt. "He's a cliche," I remind him. The bell rings. Chuckling at my comment, Jonathan said, "Want me to walk you to class? Mrs. Ziegler is on my way to chemistry." "Sure," I say. "Wow. You're juggling chemistry and AP history? I have sympathy for you, Jonathan." He laughed. "It's tough, yeah, but I want to get into a good college." I nod. "Understandable." Side by side, he walks me to my English class. "I'll see you at lunch." He tells me as I walk into class. "See ya!" Billy was already at his seat, watching me as I enter the class. I take my seat next to the window, pulling out my sketchbook from my bag, and I begin to draw. As I sketched, I could tell that he was watching me. Mrs. Ziegler began the days lecture, calling on random students to answer some questions, but making sure to avoid Billy and I because we haven't read the book that the class is reading. "What are you drawing there?" He murmurs. "A picture of you with a chainsaw going through your skull. Wanna see?" I sarcastically remark. I could feel him roll his eyes. "Seriously, What are you drawing?" "And you care... why?" He scoffed. "I don't have anything better to do than tune out of this extremely boring lecture." I shrug. His point is... reasonable. "Fine," I push my sketchbook in front of him. "It's a Jack-O-Lantern and Frankenstein." "Not bad," he commented. "Is Halloween your favorite holiday?" "Nope," I pull the sketchpad back over to me and continue working on my drawing. "Christmas remains the reserved spot for that placement." There's a moment of silence between us as I pretend to be busy drawing. "Are you going to Tina's Halloween party?" He asks me. I glance at him with raised eyebrows. "It's your second day at this school and you're already being invited to parties?" He shrugs. "I guess. So are you going?" Well, I haven't been invited. "No." I say. "I have plans." That's a lie. "That's too bad. I would've liked to see you in a costume." He smirks to himself. My cheeks flare with heat. What the hell does that even mean? "Why did you call me a freak yesterday?" I change the subject. "Because you hang out with one." He looks at the white board. "Who told you that? Tommy and Carol?" I quirk an eyebrow. Jonathan had filled me in on everything about everyone at the school. And I may have went into Carol's head with my powers. What? I couldn't help it. I wanted to see if I could break the barrier between her enormous hair and her pea sized brain. "So what if they did?" He raised an eyebrow. "They're complete assbags. They're airheads who've been having sex with each other since the seventh grade!" I whisper as quietly as I can. "And how would you know about him? You're new here." "So are you." He raises an eyebrow. "Yeah, but I'm actually smart." He looks amused. "Are you now?" I shrug in response. "You are the strangest girl I've ever met."
"Carol's eying you." Jonathan comments as I ate my peanut butter and jelly sandwich. "Oh?" I turn around to see Carol and Tommy glaring at me. Billy stood next to them with a humored look. "Oh no he didn't." I glare back. He must've told them what I told him. What an assbag. "What?" Jonathan asks. "Remember what you told me about Carol and Tommy having sex since the 7th grade?" "What? I never told you that!" I give him an awkward look when I remember that I went into Carol's head to find that out. Awkwardly chuckling, I reply, "Oh. Right." "Who told you that?" He asks with a mouthful of pizza in his mouth. "Ew. Gross. Don't do that," I playfully shove him away, earning a grin from him. "You didn't answer my question!" He nudges me. "It doesn't matter," I assure him. I glance at Carol once more, to see that she and Tommy were gone, and it was just Billy standing there, flashing me his signature smirk.
Gym is almost the same as yesterday, with Steve and Billy challenging each other at basketball. This time, Billy thankfully has his shirt on. I don't want to see all of that sweat again. Jonathan and I played our own game of basketball in the corner of the gym at an empty hoop. "Jonathan, pick me up to I can dunk it." I say as I hold the basketball. I'm too small to reach the hoop. "Gotcha." He laughs, picking me up by my waist so I was high enough to reach the hoop. I dunk the ball into the hoop. Setting me down, Jonathan sarcastically says, "You're so good at basketball! Wow!" I glare at him. "I can't help that I'm small, Jonathan!" I couldn't help but notice Billy glaring at Jonathan from across the room. What's his problem? Jonathan jumps up and dunks the ball on his own, but misses horribly. "Future basketball star, everyone!" I sarcastically remark. A basketball comes flying out of nowhere and hits Jonathan right in the head. "Oops." I hear Billy's godforsaken voice say with a hint of sarcasm. "Was that on purpose?" I kneeled down to help Jonathan up. "Of course not.." Billy smirked. "Assbag," I mutter. "What was that?" He growls, taking a few steps closer. He for sure has anger issues. It doesn't take a genius to tell. "Dude, chill." Steve Harrington comes out of nowhere and put his hand on Billy's shoulder to stop him from taking another step closer. "You're the one who hit her friend with a basketball." Billy angrily shrugs Steve's hand off of his shoulders and storms off. What just happened? That was more than weird. "Sorry about that, he gets a little—" Steve began, but I finish for him. "Crazy? Yeah. I've figured that out by now." Steve smiles. "I'm, uh, Steve Harrington." "I know. I'm Whitley." Jonathan awkwardly stands by my side. "Um, I should get back to the game." Steve gestures behind him. "I'll see you around, I guess. You have fifth period with Gregor, right?" I nod. "I'll see you next period then." He grins before running back to his friends. "That was really weird." Jonathan remarked. "Which part, Billy or Steve?" I sighed. "Both."
Charlie invited his friend Dustin and someone named Max over for dinner the next night, which I was stuck making. Collin would be at work until 6, so he wouldn't be able to make dinner. "Clean your room, Charlie! It's a hot mess and your underwear is on the floor!" I exclaim. "Ugh, fine!" He groans. I was busy making pasta primavera. The recipe is confusing. The measurements and everything are even more confusing. This is why I don't cook. "That smells good." Charlie tells me once he finishes cleaning his room. "Thanks," I say, finishing up the pasta. The doorbell rang, meaning one of his friends arrived. "Set the table and I'll get it," I tell Charlie. He nods. I turn the burner off and rush to open the front door. I open the door to see an annoyed Billy Hargrove and the redheaded girl. I was taken back a bit. One of the people Charlie happens to have made friends with is Billy's sister. "Oh!... Hi! Charlie's in the kitchen." I tell her and move aside to let her pass. "Thanks," she smiles at me, going into the kitchen. "Shes your sister?" I turn back to Billy. He glares at me. "She is not my sister. Her mom married my dad, so we're family now." "You seem to have something against her." I fold my arms across my chest. "Yeah. She's a little shit." "She seems great to me." I glare at him. "Now, if you excuse me, I need to finish making dinner—" As I close the door, he sticks his foot into the frame to stop me. "What's for dinner? I'm hungry." With that, he pushes himself into the house, leaving me shocked.
