Chapter II

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Yeah, So basically I need to start editing riiight here!

We both walked out of the school, but not together.

        This was like my dreams coming true, Noah, who I’ve had a crush on forever, was paying me, ME, the social outcast, with pastel blue hair, worn-out size 10 converse, and dorky clothes that I've had since 7th grade.

"So where is your car?" he asked, which was so cute since I didn't have one, and he honestly didn't know.

"I-I don't have one." I half-chuckled.

"Oh, okay, well, Mine's over here." he said, pointing out one of the few cars still in the lot, mixed in with the teachers who don't have a life, and throw themselves into their work. It was an old-style blue (almost the color of my hair) Mustang. It was so-can't even put it into words-amazing. "It looks like your hair" he joked, saying what I was thinking.

"It does." I laughed, then out of nowhere I started to mumble-sing "'m taking over my body, back in control, no more shotty," as he unlocked his car.

"What?" he said, getting in.

"Oh, nothing, just, kind of singing. Um-what now? I mean, we barely talked about this...." I said, happy, but confused how this was going to work out.

"Well, first we go shopping, no offense, but, if I'm going to convince Lily that you're better than she ever was, then, you can't look like that."

"I agree, but what about you?" I said, fastening my seatbelt.

"What’s wrong with me?" he said, looking at his worn-out jeans and flannel t-shirt.

"Well, dress to impress, do you even own a suit?"

"Yeah, but I only wear it to sp-"

"I've got it!" I interrupted, "the end- of - school dance!"

"What?" he said so cutely confused.

"We go, together, looking amazing, and then Lily is jealous, we date over the summer, and 'run into her' while laughing, looking like we're so in love we could get married, and you've got you're revenge!"

"Sounds...reasonable, and do-able, but the dance is in two days, what if she asks us stuff?"

"Um, I don't know yet?" I said as he started the car, and I saw him roll his eyes.

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