For Experimental Purposes Only

Chapter 6 (Jason)

"Anyone sitting here?"

I looked up to see a girl gesturing at the empty seat across from me. She had light brown hair flowing down her shoulders and a pink romper. Her eyes were really blue like unnaturally extremely blue. Maybe a little dorky looking, but she was still pretty.

Why was she talking to me?

"No," I stammered, "no ones sitting there."

Why would anyone sit next to me?

"Could I sit there?" She said smiling softly.

Is this a trick?

"I guess so," I said staring at the mashed potatoes on my lunch tray.

She sat down.

"You're new right?" she asked.

I nodded.

"Cool. My name's Lyza."

"Jason," I said. Looking up to find Lyza with a hand out for me to shake.

We sat in silence for a second.

"This school's a warzone, but my brother kinda runs it so if you need anything I'm always here."

This is when I frantically looked around the lunchroom to see who was hiding behind a table so that he could punch me. Or for a kid with their camera out so that they could videotape how stupid I looked.

To my surprise, there was no one there.

I've been going to Carmin City High School for about a week now. Every day just trying my hardest to be invisible. For the most part, I've been successful. I would sit alone during lunch and I never raised my hand during class. And now out of nowhere this Lyza girl wants to talk to me. Some other human in this world wants to recognize my existence. It couldn't be real.

"So, Jason, why'd you move here? Did your parents get a new job or something?"

I wish.

I going to nod. I was going to lie. But what was the point? If this is my one shot at having a friend, there's no use wasting it on a lie.

"No. I... uh... switched foster homes." It hurt a bit to say that. God, it hurt a lot to say that. Not because of the words. Or the pitiful thing I call my life. It was because now things were awkward. Now Lyza wouldn't talk about her parents or family at all. Assuming she actually wanted to hang out with me, she would feel restricted on what she can and cannot talk about.

One good piece of supporting evidence would be her reaction immediately after I said that.

"Oh my God." She gasped, putting her head in her hands, "That was so rude... to... to even suggest the job thing. I'm sorry."

She was going to say more but I cut her off. "Don't be. You didn't know."

"I'm sorry. I... I just wanted to make a good first impression."

"You don't have to" I was speaking impulsively again. "You don't have to make a good impression. You don't have to hang out with me or be nice or whatever. I'm fine by my self. Seriously, if you want to sit with your real friends I wouldn't be offended."

She stopped freaking out and looked at me. She just sat there numbly for a second. That's what happens when I talk, it's frantic and clumsy and makes perfectly fine people question whether or not I should be allowed to open my mouth.

I just sat there in silence waiting for her to get up and leave. But she didn't. She just sat there looking at me.

Come on lady, I said you can go. Go.

"I'm not leaving." She said as if she could read minds. Isa always said that Vee's the Witch, but this was freaky. "I'm not leaving, because I don't want to. I want to be friends with you."

"Why?" I asked quietly. Even I wouldn't want to be friends with myself. What reason does a pretty girl with a popular brother have to do so?

"Because maybe I don't have real friends!" She nearly screamed.

Some heads turned towards our table. I went back to staring at mashed potatoes.

I looked up to see Lyza making the stupidest embarrassed face I've ever seen. "Sorry," she mumbles.

I laughed. She started laughing too. I haven't laughed in a while.

"Yeah," she said quieter, "my friends suck. They're just mean girls. Exactly like that movie."

"What movie?" I said, smiling for what felt like the first time... ever.

Lyza gasped "You've never seen Mean Girls."

"I've never heard of Mean Girls," I said.

"How?" her voice cracked.

I lived in a basement most of my life.

I shrugged.

"Okay, no, unacceptable." She said between giggles, "Here give me your hand."

Before I could ask why she had grabbed my right hand along with a sharpie that came out of nowhere. She scribbled a phone number on my arm.

"Do you have a cell phone?" she asked.

"I hope so, or else this phone number is really useless."

"Cool. You should come to my house on Saturday so that we can watch Mean Girls. Aka. the second greatest movie ever."

"What's first?"

"Heathers."

"What's that?"

Lyza's face fell into her palm.

David picked me up from school. An oddly nice looking Vee was sitting in the back of the car. I hopped into the passenger seat.

"How was school" David asked.

David was trying. I used to hate him for it, but he was really trying. I never realized before that moving to another foster home is like a chance to start over. Sure, my birth dad was a jerk, but that doesn't mean that I have to push David away to.

I don't know what it's like to have a lot of friends. But as of that first week of school, I knew what it was like to have 1. And it's freaking awesome.

If I gave Lyza a shot, maybe I could make this whole experimental family thing work out too.

I age out of foster care in a year and I've never even thought about what I would do afterward. I've spent so long trying to forget the past that I've never taken time to think about the future.

Maybe everything was going to be okay after all.