3

"What's up witchu?"

"Nothing. Why?" I realize the words come out a bit more clipped than intended. So turning my gaze back to Mr Signet who wears floral shirts everyday like he's still in Hawaii, I repeat in a less snappy tone.  "Nothing... Why?"

"Alright. I'll try again. But this time you can't act like i'm too blind to see you've not been yourself for the past week."

I bite the top of my pen, then drum it on the desk instead. I'm about biting again when Grenada bumps her shoulder into mine. She's always been on the mighty side. Would put Meghan thee Stallion to shame in looks and height. Maybe not height since she's still just about 5'8.

I don't know, I'm a struggling five foot four.

But she would in bone strength 'cause the little bump from her has me jilting forward, only saved by my desk. And it's not really a save if its sharp edges cause me to wince at the collide.

"What?"

She eyes  my chewed pen before speaking. "First of all, you're disgusting."

"It's a good thing I don't care, then."

"Second, what the hell is up with you, bae? You've been moving around with that ugly face like your cat died. Except that you don't have a cat. So, what died?"

"My care for this conversation. Now, if you don't mind, I'm trying to take notes in class like every normal person here is."

She scoffs, " When have you ever cared about school?"

I place a hand on my chest. Gotta feign the offense since truthfully, i'm not offended. She is ninety-eight right.

Okay ninety-nine. "Well, today okay? Today. So, let me be."

"Fine."

"Fine, jeez." I'm aware of her side-gaze on me, as well the smug look, but I ignore it to stare at the board instead. Damn, when did it get this full? It's no wonder i'm never able to keep up with the notes.

I start writing, anyway. Dribbling down whatever i'm able to understand enough to jot and i'm doing a great job at ignoring Grenada when it just gets too annoying. "Wanna get some kinda award with that?"

"I'd like to get a grammy someday."

"Then sing. Sing and stop giving me looks from the side." Despite my deep scowl, her smug smile remains.

Then she presses her lips into a thin line. "Alright, fine. I'll leave you be." She says, finally focusing her attention ahead and actually letting me be. But that's not enough to stop me frowning.

I won't admit exactly who, but Grenada's obviously not the cause of my attitude. She's not the reason I stop writing and tune my mind out of class. Not the reason I match out the class as soon as the bell goes off. Or eye a girl who mistakenly runs into me in the hallway, blurting out an unnecessary 'Sorry!'

Also not the reason i'm eating lunch on the bleachers even when I know who i'm likely to see on the field.

I unwrap my turkey sandwich, eyes hovering over the greenland for no one. Not Matthias. There's a crowd of people on it, soccer players, cheerleaders. And of course, his girlfriend.

Then a certain pest finds me.

"Hey, sexy."

"Ten meters away." I say, but Nicholas still drops on the sit next to me. "What do you want?"

"A piece of you. Maybe a turkey sandwich on the side."

"I'm not an option." I firmly state without looking his way. "Neither is the sandwich."

"Feisty, are we?"

I turn to look at him, intend to say something but my mouth's still full with a bite so I wait to chew it up. A smirk on his face, he waits as well.

Lorde's High has a large number of 'it' people. So many that being classified as an 'it' here isn't as special. Well, to me. All it takes to be part of the group is to be pretty, stupid, and whatever a bunch of them think is cool.

Nicholas does quite alright in meeting the criteria, very good on the stupid part even, but I guess he's also pretty too. In that australian surfer kind of way. Except he's not Australian. But Blonde beach hair, athletic body, long legs, tan skin, doing well in the height department has him looking the part. I used to joke around referring to him as pretty boy when we were younger. Something I shouldn't have. His larger than life ego had him believing I was head over heels in love with him when he found out.

I sort of know i'm part of why he still thinks so years down the line, but I don't like to admit being the cause of my own problems.

I swallow. "It's either you tell me what you want, something reasonable you want, or you depart."

He laughs, "So, you aren't reasonable?"

"You wanting me isn't reasonable."

He leans towards me, and I don't realize what he's doing till he takes a bite of my sandwich from my hands.

"Nice. Made it yourself?"

"Yeah." I reply, going back to eating. "Nicholas go away from me, alright? This isn't a good time. And don't be coming around, eating my food."

"When is there ever a good time?" He turns on his side in a relaxed manner to face me.

"I'm serious about not eating my food. First and the last time."

"It's the... second time, actually. That spaghetti was nice, by the way, a bit too spicy but I like them hot."

"You're annoying."

He laughs his signature laugh that's loud but not too loud, and I just try my best to ignore his existence. And proximity.

The sun has me squinting when I look ahead, staring mindlessly at the lot of people on the field. There's the soccer boys on the left, looking as rough as ever. Playing stupidly rough too. Though some aren't, and just walking around, doing their own thing. I recognize five of them as Ty who prefers it pronounced as T then a Y. The rest are Aiden, Sam, Giovanni, and Adam.

"Aren't you joining them for practice?" I ask, nodding towards the field before grimacing. "And don't you have a shirt to wear?"

"Practice doesn't start till twelve and.." He twirls a finger round the hair I let down my back. "And no. I mean, yeah, I do. But why wear a shirt when going shirtless has Lee feeling shy."

"I'm not feeling shy, Nicholas, don't get ahead of yourself."

"So, what're you doing this weekend? Friday to be exact."

"Don't know. Probably home. Anywhere far away from everybody at school."

"Okay, cool 'cause there's this party. At my house since my parents are out of town."

His parents are out a lot that I wonder when they ever are around, but I guess it's not my problem, they're rich anyway. To each their own.

The problem is his audacity to think I'd want to attend. "Nicholas, when I said I'd like to be far away from everyone from school, I also meant you. As a matter of fact, especially you."

"Lee, stop, I'm flattered." he fakes a blush. "But I'm serious though, word on the street is my parties are the best." I inwardly groan. If this boy's ego could be transmitted into energy, we'd never run out. "I'm just saying, if you're interested. Or if Matt allows you."

I almost choke. And I stop breathing.

If Matt allows me? What am I, a 1940s housewife?

"Excuse me? If Matt allows me?"

"No, I meant... that's not how I.." I watch him stumble over his words. "Shit, I'm failing English class, I don't know how to word it. But I really didn't mean it like that."

Nevertheless. Do people honestly think Matthias rules my every decision just 'cause we're best friends? I stay home on weekends because I want to, and don't attend players' parties because I don't want to. Not because of Matthias. Even though he does suggest that I don't get involved with any of them.

God, if people really think he controls me, this is mighty frustrating.

"I'll come."

Nicholas blinks. "Wait, f'real?"

"Yeah, or do you need confirmation from Matt first?" I turn to look him straight in the eye, knowing what it usually does to people.

Well, everybody but him. He uses a knuckle to brush my cheek. "Lee, calm the fuck down, alright? You know that look doesn't work on me."

I watch him get up and I'm guessing he's returning to the field for practice. Finally. When he turns back and tries searching for words to curtly dismiss himself, I wave him off. "Go do you."