Chapter 5

I planned on going au natural to lunch but when Marissa held up the makeup bag, I knew she wouldn’t let that happen. She promised me she’d give me a natural look, though, but I wasn’t sure she knew what natural looked like. She curled my hair, to my dismay, and pulled it into a high ponytail. The curls were loose and light, falling to my upper back. My hair was always long; when it’s natural, it goes to my mid-back.

Surprisingly, she managed to keep the makeup to a minimum; the lipstick was a close shade to my natural lip color, it make them look plumper and shinier though- which I can appreciate. My skin was moisturized and felt smooth. Rather than putting eye shadow on me, Marissa stuck to the basics- mascara and a thin layer of eyeliner. It only took ten minutes, mostly because she had to wait until my face was fully dry from the moisturizer before she could start applying things.  

“You look perfect!” she squealed once I was changed. We walked downstairs and I grabbed my thin jacket, flinging it over my shoulders. It was supposed to be a little windy today, and a bit chilly- as chilly as it gets here: 60 degrees Fahrenheit, but windy so it might feel like 50.

Expecting her to open the door and leave, I was shocked when she called her brother’s name. He’s going shoe shopping with us? And out to lunch? I wanted to grab her arm and request that she leave him here. Although I try and find the best in people, and trust me- I do try, it doesn’t mean that I can deal with someone who doesn’t disguise their hatred for me. “We’re taking my car!”

“Like I’d want her in my car.” My eyebrows were on the verge of shooting up at what he’d said. He walked right past us as he grabbed his jacket. We scooted past him, Marissa whispering for me to ignore her ‘idiot brother’ as we did so. I quickly got into the passenger’s seat, not trying to sit in the back and look like a kid. When Noah got into the car, he quickly placed his headphones in, efficiently tuning us out.

Rolling my eyes at his childish antics, I turned to Marissa with a smile on my face. “Where to first?”

“The shoe store," she replied, starting the car and exiting the driveway.

<<>><<>> 

We walked down the street, heading towards another shoe store that was close enough to walk. It would be pointless to drive when it’d take us only three minutes to walk. Nobody was complaining, which was a good thing. Noah didn’t have his earbuds in but wasn’t saying anything. Marissa’s phone rang the moment I giggled. She excused herself for a moment, demanding that Noah stay put.

He didn’t even acknowledge her statement and plopped down onto a bench. Once I realized what we were doing, I giggled again. He furrowed his eyebrows as he glanced at me. I began whistling the tune to ‘A Thousand Miles’ by Vanessa Carlton.

“Really?” he asked me, his voice full of disbelief at my childishness. My whistling slowly faded as I stood in the middle of the sidewalk staring at my feet.

“No need to get all grumpy there, Mr. I-like-to-soak-other-people’s-clothes,” I stated under my breath.

He rolled his eyes. “I could have ripped them to shreds if I wanted to. You should be grateful that I didn’t do that.”

“Thank you, Noah, thank you so much for sparing my clothes,” I replied sarcastically. He was about to snap at me as Marissa walked into the conversation’s hearing range.

“Watch what you say to me," he retorted, his voice low and dangerous.

I knew that backing down would give him satisfaction; so I mustered up the last morsels of confidence I could find and plastered them onto my face in the form of a smirk. “You can’t watch words, silly.”

His face contorted from one of danger and violence to one of confusion. “Let’s get going. My mom wanted to say that she’ll be home later on today.”

She was looking in Noah’s direction yet she was addressing her mother as ‘my mom.’ I figured they didn't. It was proven yesterday when Marissa said something and 'their' dad. The mother thing would explain his aggressiveness when I mentioned his mother that time at the library. I decided it was better not to ask, or at least when Noah was around. He’d probably lash out and toss me in the middle of the street. I can’t be too sure that he doesn’t hit girls; no matter how often Marissa assures me that he doesn’t.

Once we reached the shoe shop, Marissa rushed over towards the heels department and I fell back a step, earning a complaint from Noah seeing as he almost bumped into me thanks to my unexpected halt. I don’t like heels. Last time I wore them; I fell and broke my arm. That was my eighth grade graduation and I was carried out on a stretcher because I passed out due to the pain. It was very embarrassing.

I walked over and sat down in a chair, smiling at the thought of actually having a moment to sit and relax. That was short-lived when Marissa’s voice pierced the air. “Kenna!”

I groaned as I walked over towards where her voice sounded from. Marissa may be a good friend, a smart girl, and an amazing volleyball player but that doesn’t completely rule out her ability to deafen you with a simple note. But she has a lot of good qualities too, so I can’t really complain. Noah, on the other hand, I can write a list as long as the length of the world about his bad traits and then I have four simple words that make up the list of his good traits: good looks, he reads. Six if you include the fact that he’s smart.

“Should I get these or these?” she asked, extending both of her feet. Her left foot was covered in a white stiletto heel and her right had a white wedge. I shrugged.

“Both?” I suggested. Noah snorted from beside her and I shrugged again. “I like the white wedges.” Wedges are safer.

She nodded, grabbing them off of the shelf. “Okay.”

I stared at her. “That’s it?”

She turned to look at me, the corner of her lip quirked upward. “What?”

“You’re not going to choose the stilettos because I said I liked the wedges?” I asked her.

She furrowed her eyebrows. “No…why would I do that?”

I shrugged, following behind her. “I don’t know, I just didn’t think that you cared about my opinion.”

She laughed. “Of course I do.”

I just nodded quietly. “I don’t,” Noah muttered before pushing in front of us.

<<>><<>> 

“Do you guys want to eat here?” Marissa asked cheerily as she looked back and forth. One of the restaurants was a burger joint and the other was a buffet. Without answering, Noah crossed the street and headed in the direction of the buffet. “Okay, buffet it is.” 

After paying for ourselves and ordering drinks, we walked towards the food, grabbing plates along the way. I grabbed a few pieces of ranch chicken, pasta, and a few dumplings. I grabbed a slice of cake, too. Going to our assigned table, we waited for the waiters to come with our drinks before we dug into our food. I was surprised to see Noah’s plate, which was filled to the brim with hot wings and other spicy foods.

Mindlessly, I let out a breath. “Your stomach is going to be burning later on, if you know what I mean. Go to the bathroom here Marissa because it’s going to be occupied once you get back to your house.”

Before I realized what I was saying, Marissa let out loud shrieks of laughter. Noah, on the other hand, was glaring daggers into my face. “I mean…enjoy your meal?” As if glaring at me wasn’t enough, he grabbed my piece of cake and bit it. He didn’t use a fork or a knife; he just slammed his face into it and bit it. I could tell that he was regretting his involuntary action. I honestly don't know what compelled him to do that but I know that Marissa's laughter is going to compel him to murder me. He wiped his face of the chocolate cake before putting it to the side. I couldn't help but stare at him. He was so unpredictable, I guess that's a good thing about him- but in some cases, it can be bad, too.

"If you think that's going to stop me from eating that cake, then you're wrong," I informed him as I reached for it. He swiftly grabbed the cake and licked the top of it, denting in the frosting. He grimaced and I realized that he doesn't like chocolate. I furrowed my eyebrows as I tilted my head. "Are you really that adamant to get me back for whatever it is that I did to offend you that you would eat food that, apparently, you dislike?"

He shrugged as he went to work on his buffalo wings. "You two are hysterical." I turned to see Marissa recovering from a laughing fit. I rolled my eyes as I began to scoot out of the seat.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to get another slice of cake." I gave a pointed look at Noah who had a buffalo wing lodged in his mouth, how majestic.

I walked over towards the desserts section of the buffet and quickly decided to get something that wasn't chocolate. Maybe it was the sight of Noah struggling to devour the chocolate cake that changed my mind but whatever it was, it forced me to pick up a slice of vanilla cake with milk chocolate frosting. Smiling in delight as I went to grab a fork, I nearly bumped into someone.

"I'm sorry!" They exclaimed as I jerked the cake to the side, trying to spare the beautiful, last piece of heaven.

I blinked a few times before calming down. "It's okay. I'm sorry; I should have been watching where I was going. It's just that this cake is so pretty and I really want to eat it but you know what they say, no dessert before dinner- I'm rambling. Sorry."

I ducked my head as I went to walk away. "It's okay. And you dropped your fork."

I looked at my plate to see the fork absent. Glancing down, I noticed it was resting on the carpeted floor. I frowned and looked up, noticing a new shiny fork directly in front of my face. I sheepishly took it, my face tinging pink. "Thanks."

"No problem," he replied casually.

I began to walk off but he called me back once again. "Hey, uh...you?"

"Yeah?" I asked, finally turning my gaze to his face.

Oh boy. Why didn't I look sooner? The longer I can look at his face, the happier I'll be once I die. At least I know that there’s some good out of boys eating my chocolate cake.

His hair was brown and his eyes were light green. I hoped that he goes to my school; if he does, I'll have a chance at seeing him around more often. He's nice to look at. He was tall but not too tall, around 5'11". He wasn't extremely built but he may play a sport in his free time.

"So do they?" I finally tuned back into the conversation. He was giving me a wide grin, revealing his white teeth. Layered on them were braces, which made him even cuter. I was nearly melting at the sight of him.

I furrowed my eyebrows, letting out a nervous laugh. "Do they what?"

He playfully rolled his eyes. "Do they have more of that cake?"

I shook my head. "No, but they have other types of cake."

He smiled at me before I turned and walked away. This time, he didn't call me back. I internally squealed. Once I made eye contact with Marissa, I realized she was watching the whole thing. I wriggled my eyebrows at her and she snorted before shaking her head. As I slid into the booth beside her, I grinned. "He was really cute."

"I know, right!" she squealed as I glanced back. I saw him walking towards a table filled with guys; in his hand was a plate of cake. "You should have gotten his number!"

I gaped at her. "What if he was on a date with his girlfriend?"

"Or his boyfriend," Noah added in mindlessly.

I shot him a glare before turning my attention back to Marissa. "What if he wasn't?" she asked.

"Then he wasn't," I replied, shrugging. "I just know that he was really cute."

"Did you catch his name?" she asked, her grin widening as she glanced to her brother.

I chuckled, shaking my head. "I didn't even catch half of what he said." She furrowed her eyebrows. "I zoned out midsentence and he had to repeat himself."

"Why?" she asked, her lips quirking upward.

I shrugged. "He was really cute."

"You only said it three times," Noah scoffed in response.

"He was really cute. He was really cute. He was really cute. He was really cute. He was really cute. He was really cute. He was really cute," I said, just to annoy him.

"Ten times, now," he replied, almost civilly.

"You guys bicker like a married couple," Marissa replied.

"I'd rather marry a man," was Noah's go-to response.

Marissa and I shared an odd look before we looked at Noah. Although I was slightly offended, I wanted to laugh more than anything. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that if I was forced to choose between dating a guy and dating her, I’d choose the guy," he said 'her' as if it was burning his tongue.

My eyebrows rose and Marissa rolled her eyes. "Just ignore him; I always do."

"Actually, you don't," he butted in.

"I do try, though," she responded and Noah shut up rather quickly.

Marissa and I made small talk and Noah occasionally butted in something rather rude. We started cleaning up, finishing all of our food. Suddenly, Marissa practically shoves me off of the seat, whispering quickly. "He's there! He's there!"

I looked around, a piece of cake hanging out of my mouth. I saw the boy from my earlier encounter walking towards the food area again. "Go!"

I looked at Marissa, panic setting in. "What? What do I do?"

"Get more food?" Noah asked in a 'duh' tone.

"I'll seem fat!" I replied, more to Marissa than Noah.

"Too late," Noah muttered under his breath and I had the urge to kick him under the table. What a jerk.

"I'll go with you," Marissa muttered, standing up. "Act natural."

I nodded as she walked by him, tripping and falling. I didn't know if she was acting or not so I quickly rushed over, laughing loudly. "Are you okay?"

She nodded as she sat up, quickly glancing around to see if anyone was looking. Once she turned to look at me, she winked and I knew that it was an act. I turned around to see the boy staring at us. He looked from me to Marissa, who was getting off of the floor. "Are you, uh, okay?"

She nodded. "Yeah, I just hurt my ankle a bit. I'm going to go sit down. Please get some fruit for me, Kenna."

She limped all the way to the table, giving me a thumbs up as she sat down. I'm guessing Noah said another rude remark because she kicked him under the table and he winced. "So, Kenna, is it?"

I turned my attention to the boy, trying hard not to zone out again. That'd be a problem. "Yeah, Kennedy, actually."

He held out his hand. "I'm Eric."

I shook his warm hand, smiling up at him. "Nice to meet you."

He smiled down at me. "The pleasure's all mine."

I couldn't help but laugh. Does he come with a bar of butter? Because he's very corny. "So do you, like, live around here?"

I noticed that he says 'like' and 'uh' very often. "Yeah, I do. Do you?"

He nodded. "Yeah, for the time being. Well, I've got to get going, my friends are leaving. I just wanted to grab a piece of cake for my boyfriend."

Boyfriend. Boyfriend. Boyfriend. Noah was right. Internally groaning, I nodded. "Okay, cool. I'll see you around."

He nodded, offering me another smile. "Yeah."

Once he left, I walked over towards Marissa and Noah. Marissa narrowed her eyes at me. "I didn't see any number exchanging."

I groaned as I grabbed my coat, pulling it on. "Your brother was right. He has a boyfriend."

"Called it," Noah muttered as he walked ahead of us.

"I'm sorry about that," she frowned.

I shrugged. "It's okay; he was still fun to look at."

<<>><<>> 

I woke up bright and early on Monday morning, the sadness of being alone greeting me like a tidal wave. I stood up and stretched before walking towards my closet. Grabbing the first thing that my eyes caught sight of, I sluggishly walked towards the bathroom, urging to stay home. I know my mother would be disappointed if I just stayed home without a reason so I grabbed my bag and walked downstairs, going to my car.

I stopped at McDonalds for a breakfast burrito and orange juice, so when I arrived at school- I ate in the parking lot. Once I finished, I got out of the car, my bag draped over my shoulder and my coat in my hand. I didn’t bother putting it on, knowing I’d go straight into school just to take it off again.

My first period class was gym and once the bell rang, I made my way towards the gymnasium- praying that somehow Noah had a bad case of the “stomach aches” after his large meal of buffalo wings. To my dismay, Noah was seated on the bleachers, reading a book. I like how he looks when he reads. His eyes skim the page quickly. When he’s reading, I forget that he’s a jerk with a really nice face.

“Today is a free day, but don’t let me catch you sitting out or else it’s a zero for the day.” He sent me a pointed look; thanks to my ‘disruption’ last class I’ve been getting glares from him whenever he mentions bad behavior. It’s not my fault that Ronnie hates me. Now saying that I hate the guy would be an overstatement; I simply don’t know him enough to pass judgment. Despite the fact that he wants my head on a stick, I’m trying to be optimistic about a possible budding friendship in our future. I'm also optomistic that I'll marry a very hot model.

When I saw the guys breaking out the basketballs, I knew that I wouldn’t be able to do anything even if I wanted to- which I don’t. I don’t understand how the coach can expect us to do anything when the guys are playing a full court game, denying access to the girls who actually want participation points. Deciding that it isn’t even worth changing, I walk over towards the bleachers; I made sure it was on the other side, opposite to Noah.

Plopping down onto the cold seat, I placed my book bag beside me, watching the game. I didn’t understand much of it, only how the shots were made. I knew what a three pointer was but I don’t know any of the teammate’s jobs, such as a ‘center.’ But it’s not like I’m going to play basketball anytime soon so it’s not like I need to know these things. I looked around, watching the players cheer every time one of their teammates made a shot.

My phone started to buzz in my pocket and I took it out, furrowing my eyebrows. I rarely get texts, especially during school hours. ‘You have gym with my brother right now, right?’

‘Yes. Why?’ I asked her as I glanced up at Noah. He had his earbuds tucked in his ears as he drew.

‘Can you please tell him to turn on his cell phone? Tell him that it’s important,' Marissa quickly responded. 

‘Are you crazy? He’s listening to music; he’s practically in his own little world,’ I replied hastily, glancing at him every few seconds.

‘Please, Kenna, it’s really important.’ I sighed before agreeing to do so and stuffing my phone away.

I walked up the bleachers, leaving my stuff at the bottom. Once I arrived at the top, I nudged him in the shoulder. He glanced up at me and raised an eyebrow. At least he didn’t cringe away like he did the last time I’d touched him. Instead, he took one earbud out and gave me an annoyed look. “What?”

The snappiness of his voice caught me off guard and I awkwardly started to stutter. “Your uh, sister said to-.”

As if suddenly not repulsed by the idea of my skin coming in contact with his, he yanked me until I was in a sitting position. I was about to ask why the heck he did that when the smacking of a football ricocheting against the hard cement walls filled the gymnasium. It fell and landed a row above us. If I would have been standing, I definitely would have been hit in the head. I probably would have died; I was standing sideways and it would have hit me in the temple. As I glanced down to see who threw the ball, I wasn’t surprised to see Ronnie standing there with a smirk on his face. “Figures.”

I reached over and grabbed the ball, throwing it down to where he stood. His smirk was as cold as Noah’s eyes. “Sorry about that.”

I looked down at Noah who was hiding his drawing by flipping it over and covering it with his arms. One of his earbuds was in his ear as the music played loudly. I could hear it from here and I could tell that it was Three Days Grace. I’m guessing that’s his favorite band. “Thanks, for you know, that.”

He just stared at me so I continued. “Your sister said to turn your phone on, it’s important.”

He groaned as he reached down into his bag, pulling out his cell phone. I noticed it was the latest iPhone, how unexpected. I walked back over to my spot and sat down, allowing the day to drag on.

<<>><<>> 

When I arrived to my third period class, American Literature, with Ms. Walters, I wanted to start sobbing. Although I love reading and anything that has to do with literature, the lady is a nutcase when it comes to choosing books for us to read. Because it’s still the beginning of the year, she’s splitting us up into groups. I wanted to groan aloud. I always get stuck alone because I actually did the encouraged summer reading.

Don’t judge me, okay? My mother was gone and she cut me off from buying videogames. I didn’t have any friends back then so I stayed at home and read. Once I read all of books that I wanted to read, I went to the bookstore with a printed list of our summer reading requirements. And by doing this, I saved myself a lot of time and effort. While I finished all of the books, I only have to read four this year while everyone else has to read 16. Now tell me that it was a waste of time.

She began reading off our names and we’d have to go to the table with the pile of books on it. I wasn’t paying attention until she repeated my name twice. “Kennedy West, A Precarious Treasure.” The second time she said it, her voice had a tinge of annoyance to it.

I heard another familiar groan as I got up and squinted, looking around for the table. Once I spotted it, I wanted to drop dead. Not only was Noah sitting there but he was shooting me the darkest glare as I walked towards the table. My legs felt like jelly and I wished that he went back to ignoring me; that was a lot better, although it was short lived. Why’d I have to open my big fat mouth and talk to him? Or better yet, why’d I have to drink that one time at the party? And why did I even agree to be the designated driver for such a popular girl when I knew I’d be spending time at her house, where her cruel brother lives?

I grabbed a book from the pile and sat diagonal to him, upset about how there were only four desks, which were all pushed into a square. I awkwardly yanked a chair out from the desk as my face burned red from embarrassment. I bet if he weren’t in my class, or vice versa, I’d be alone, and that sounds amazing at this point. I slumped down in my seat, listening as Ms. W continued to explain what we had to do in order to get a good grade.

My mind was racing and I couldn’t really focus. I know I’ve said it before but I can’t fathom the idea of someone wanting to be alone, with no friends. Maybe I’m assuming the latter portion but as far as I can tell, he has no friends. Maybe it’s because of the fact that he just appeared in eighth grade, with no explanation. I tried to remember if he was this antisocial in eighth grade. With furrowed eyebrows, I struggled to remember my last year in middle school. As far as I know, he was. We had a few of the same classes, which were advanced, but he didn’t have any friends. I did, though, but that was the last year we talked normally. Ninth grade was terrible.

I began to panic when Ms. Walters told us to make predictions with our group. While every other group began to discuss their books after reading the short description on the back of the book or on the inner cover, Noah and I were silent. Ms. Walters walked over towards us and stood there, waiting for us to exchange ideas. “No predictions?”

I shrugged and Noah shook his head. She sighed. “Come on, you two are some of my brightest students yet you can’t make a simple prediction?”

I offered her a small smile as I tried to think of something to say that wouldn’t make me sound like an idiot. “I predict…that this book is going to be good?”

Ms. Walters sighed before turning to Noah. This was her silent cue to tell me to shut up “What do you think is going to happen?”

He shrugged. “I think that this book is going to talk about the importance of friendship.” His answer wasn’t very confident but it was more confident than mine.

Ms. Walters nodded, a smile overcoming her face. “Great, good, now write it down and read the first chapter. Write down all of the characters that appear with a list of character traits. You'll need it for the bigger portion of the project, which is explained further in the packet. It's an essay and a presentation.”

I took out my American Lit notebook and began writing what Noah said, finishing it quickly and opening my book. I sighed once I saw that the words were blurry and began digging around my bag in search of my glasses. Once I found them, I stuffed them onto my face and began reading.

One word shot across my mind as I read this chapter: boring.

No offense to the author or anything, but this book is boring. The first chapter should be enrapturing, not draggy. Although it's well written, I wanted to put it down the moment I picked it up. Once I finished it, I put it down. Ms. Walters glanced at the clock before walking towards us. Noah finished reading a few minutes before me and we just sat there in silence. “So, how was it?”

“Boring,” I muttered, drawing small circles with my finger on the cover of the book.

“It was okay,” Noah replied. It seems as if we’ve switched roles, while I’m usually the optimist who hopes for the best, I seem to have taken his job and became the pessimist.

“Did you guys create a list of characters with personality traits?” she asked us. I shook my head and Noah mirrored my actions. She sighed and looked at the both of us. “You guys, this project is a large portion of your first semester grade. I understand that you two might not get along but if you both want to keep your grades up, I advise you get over whatever it is that’s between you two and focus on this project.”

“Okay,” Noah and I said in unison. I was surprised that he actually agreed. I’d assumed he would just shrug and, like the lone wolf he is, do the tasks alone. I don't understand how he wants to be alone all the time. I can't wrap my head around it. I mean, he’s not alone all the time but he wants to be. Whenever I’m at his house with Marrisa, he always catches an attitude when we’re around.

I quickly shoved off the thought as Ms. Walters walked away and turned my attention to Noah. “Was that all for show or do you plan on working with me?”

We made eye contact for a few seconds before he started writing in his notebook. I wasn’t expecting him to speak, so when he did- all I could do was stare at him. He was listing off characters as he neatly wrote them down. His penmanship is one of the things that I’m jealous of; the first one being that he isn’t forced to wear reading glasses. He stopped mid list and looked up at me. “Are you going to write them down?”

I quickly asked him to restart and he did, after he groaned and muttered something about me having the attention span the size of my brain. I didn’t think much of it and instead, continued writing and stating the occasional character that he left out. He would then reply with, “I was about to say that.”

“Sure you were,” I’d casually remark.

We finished with a few moments to spare and Ms. Walters was helping another group of students. I quickly put my copy of A Precarious Treasure into my bag and waited patiently for the bell to ring. Before the bell rang, Ms. Walters ran to the front of the class. “Before you leave, discuss with your partners a decent amount of chapters to read. You all will have to make a list of characters and find a time to discuss it with your partner outside of class. Summarize each chapter with a paragraph or two; trust me, this will help you in the long run. Don’t forget your packets!”

I turned to Noah. “How much should we read?”

“Two chapters?” he asked me. He actually asked for my opinion. I just stupidly nodded, bouncing my head around, while he gave me a curt nod and walked away.

Wow. Do you know what I call this? Progress!

<<>><<>> 

I was seated at lunch, internally crying about my Algebra 2 class. I would say that I’m a smart person but when it comes to math, I fail. And I fail so hard. I manage to maintain a C- in that class but I just can’t grasp the concepts. The teacher said that I might need tutoring, but I really don’t want that. I'd probably get a senior who just does it for the community service hours, not because they actually want to help. I stuffed my folder back into my bag before putting my lunch tray down at my table, preparing to eat and then read.

I managed to get through one bite of my pasta when Marissa plopped herself down on the seat across from me, letting a perky greeting pierce the air. I nearly choked on the pasta. She was so quick. Once I wiped my mouth, I smiled. “Hello.”

“So, someone told me that you and my brother are working together on a project?” she asked.

I parted my lips before closing them. “And how did this someone know?”

She shrugged, smirking. “You guys have the same class together. So, it seems like fate won’t give it a rest.”

“Fate?” I snorted.

She nodded. “Yeah, you two are so meant to be. You both like reading and you guys are alone pretty often, although I’m changing that for you; it must count for something! Don’t you think?”

“Wow, two things in common? Someone call cupid,” I muttered sarcastically.

“Oh yeah, how can I forget the sarcasm?” She gave me a flat look. “Make that three things.”

I snorted. “I have things in common with many people.”

“Wasn’t it fate that you were in the bathroom when I was crying?” she asked me.

“You call it fate, I call it my bladder,” I replied and she groaned.

“Whatever, just know that fate is working its magic between the two of you. I would know. I’m fate's right hand man.” She smiled.

I just shook my head, putting some more cheesy pasta into my mouth. “Whatever you say.” It was silent for a few minutes before I looked up at her. “Hey, Marissa?”

She looked at me and smiled. “Yes?”

“Are you any good at math?” I asked her and she winced.

“I’m horrendous at math," she replied. I sat back in my seat and groaned. “Why?”

“I have a C- in that class; if I fail my test next Friday, I’m going fail that class definitely,” I explained.

“From what I know, Dana is pretty good at it. She’s in Pre-Calculus,” she told me.

“Do you think she could help me?” I asked her.

She nodded. “Of course! This weekend you can come over, she’s grounded until Friday.”

I nodded, a smile lighting my face. “But I know someone who is even better at math. And they're always free!”

I furrowed my eyebrows and nodded. “Who?”

Wriggling her eyebrows, she nudged me across the table. “Noah.”

I sipped my juice while giving her a flat look. “I seriously hate you.”

“Not as much as Noah hates you.” I couldn’t help but laugh at that. That was true. “Do you hate him?”

“I don’t think I’m capable of hating someone, as much as I want to, I don’t think I am,” I told her.

“So you want to hate him?” she asked.

“I seem stupid if he hates me yet I am okay with him. Although being around him bruises the little ego I have left,” I admitted. “Especially because I don’t know why he hates me.”

Despite the fact that my irresponsibility might be a main reason for his burning hatred towards me, he was still sour towards me since the beginning. “I don’t know either.”

She sighed before standing up. “Do you want to sit with me and my volleyball teammates?”

I shook my head, motioning towards my book on the table beside me. “I’m going to eat and then read. Have fun, though.”

She nodded, offering me a smile before she walked away. I sat there staring at my lunch. Why does he hate me?

<<>><<>> 

During study hall, I finished reading my assigned two chapters of A Precarious Treasure. I even added more names to the list and wrote the two paragraphs. It wasn’t very hard to do but once I was finished, I ended up finishing earlier than I had planned and had a whopping 25 minutes left. I sat back in my seat, staring at the book in my hands. I pushed it away from me and put my head down on the table, counting each minute as it ticked by.

I sat up when I had seven minutes until Art and started to pack up. Even though Mr. Komodo was cool, he still didn’t appreciate tardiness. I threw my bag over my shoulder and walked into the hallway. It wasn’t crowded because the bell hadn’t rung but a few people were standing around. I made my way to art class, walking slower than usual, seeing as I had extra time. The bell rang the moment I reached Art and students began pouring out of the room, one of the guys shouldering me so I fell backwards, hitting my bottom on the linoleum. Nobody stopped to ask me if I was alright and I’m pretty sure a few people chuckled. I shrugged it off; at least it made them smile.

I wiped off my pants before walking into Art class. I sat down in my assigned seat, watching as students filed in. A quiet girl who goes by the name of Lizzie sat down at the table with me, her hair covering her face like a shower curtain and I didn’t bother to say anything. It was her assigned seat, sure, but that doesn’t mean we have to talk to each other. As far as I see it, she’s content sitting in silence and so am I.

“Good afternoon students, I hope you’re all having a nice day,” Mr. Komodo greeted us. He was a tall half white and half Asian man (I only know this because a girl asked him in the beginning of the year) with long black hair that trails down his back. He dressed in plaid button ups and jeans that were usually covered in paint; today his attire was no different. His face was clean shaven and he had brown eyes. “Today, we will be sketching animals.”

“What kind of animals?” A girl from the back of the class piped up. The majority of the class was females, probably because the guys in the school assumed art was for female students rather than male students. There were two guys in this class, both of which were silent for the most part. They didn’t talk to anyone, not even each other.

“Any kind of animal you want, a bird, a dog, a lion, any animal- you name it, you can draw it,” he told us. “The materials are on the center table; use them as you need them.”

He went over to his desk and began sketching, most likely an animal. That was the cool thing about Mr. Komodo, rather than being a teacher who gives orders that he’s not sure we can follow, Mr. Komodo assigns us work that he can do, too. I grabbed a sheet of paper and a few sketching pencils, planning on drawing a tiger or a cheetah.

I noticed that Lizzie had already started. She drew the frame of a horse and it was honestly pretty good. My mother always told me that I was a good artist, despite the fact that she was rarely home. When she was though, she’d admire the pictures I framed and put around the house. She always noticed little things like that.

My thoughts of my mother strayed to thoughts of my family as a whole, my small, small family. I miss my father, that’s a given. Sometimes, I wish he and my mother had another kid before me, so I wouldn’t have to take all of the responsibility now that she’s gone for months at a time. It may seem selfish but I always had to bear the burden of my father’s death, whether it was in the form of comforting my mother or going out to shop for groceries at the mere age of fifteen when my mother left our feeble next door neighbor to look out for me; she ended up falling down and breaking her hip, leaving me alone once again. Ms. Martinez was fine but sold her house and moved into an old folk's home. My mom was forced to come home and didn't leave again for a year or so.

My friends all dispersed eventually when they realized what unnecessary weight I was. I was just a burden to them and I can honestly understand why. Nobody wants to be friends with a fourteen year old who has to carry her family like a mule. Especially when all you want to do is shop and gossip over boys. If my father hadn’t died and my mother hadn’t buried herself in her work, I’d probably have friends right now. But I don’t, so I can’t stress over possible what ifs. Now, thankfully, I have friends, or at least a friend. And my friendship circle is slowly growing, so that's good.

“Can I see that?” a small voice caused me to look up. I saw Lizzie staring at me, motioning towards the sharpener that was resting on the table beside me.

“Sure,” I nodded, grabbing the utensil and handing it over to her. She smiled at me, accepting it. She placed it between us and I went back to drawing and thinking deeply.

Once the class period ended, I managed to finish half of my project but Mr. Komodo assured us that we would finish next class. I walked outside and caught sight of Marissa and Noah arguing. I didn’t know what it was about or how it started, all I know is that Marissa was on the verge of tears. She caught my eye and gave one last glare at her brother before storming in my direction. Taking me by surprise, she quickly wrapped her arms around me and I awkwardly responded with a hug. She was sobbing heavily and I didn’t know what to do.

What do you do when a girl is crying on your shoulder? I wouldn’t know; I’ve never paid attention to what my mother did whenever I'd cry in front of her. Once again, I was completely clueless.

I awkwardly patted her back, sighing in relief when her sobbing stopped. She pulled away from me and wiped her tears. “I’m sorry, I just…never mind.”

I nodded in understanding, standing there with a tear stained shoulder. The girl was taller than me, prettier than me, and definitely more popular than me. I was nearly positive that she’d storm past me and cry in the arms of a popular jock, or a fellow volleyball player. “Are you okay?”

She shook her head. “I just don’t want to go home.”

We watched as her brother’s car raced out of the parking lot, as if he were in Need for Speed, costarring with Aaron Paul. “If you want, you can hang out at my house until he cools down.”

She nodded. “Would your parents be okay with that?”

I shrugged. “I don’t think they’ll care.” I didn’t bother correcting with parent or telling her that my mother wasn’t home and probably won’t be for another two weeks. “Can you drive?”

She nodded, walking towards her car. I scanned the half empty parking lot before spotting my car. I jogged over and started it up, waiting for Marissa to drive behind me. Once she did, I exited the parking lot, driving the familiar path towards my house. I pulled into the driveway, grabbing my bag out of the passenger’s seat.

“You live pretty close," she told me.

I shrugged. “It’s an hour long walk.”

“I see why you drive,” she told me before looking at my house. My house definitely wasn’t as big as hers, but it wasn’t very small either. My mother was a writer after all, but she’s the type of person who saves money rather than spends it willy nilly. She bought this medium sized house with four bedrooms in a decent neighborhood. “This is pretty.”

“Thanks.” I smiled as I walked up the stairs, noticing that the lights were all off, just like I left them. I managed to get my key out of my pocket without slicing my fingers off. After unlocking the door, I turned on the living room light. My house was plain compared to hers. I looked at the television, which was still on. I was up last night watching television.

“This is nice," Marissa announced as her eyes scanned the house.

I forgot that Marissa was here so I nodded awkwardly, sitting down on the couch. She followed me, dropping her bag on the floor as she plopped down onto the couch beside me. I reached for the remote and handed it to her, allowing her to put on whatever channel she wanted. “Are you hungry? Thirsty?”

She gave me a shy nod and I smiled in response before getting up and walking over towards the kitchen. I was unsure of what to do. As a child, I had a few sleepovers but my parents were more the hosts than I was. Even in eighth grade and early ninth grade, I didn’t have my friends over. I just didn’t feel as if it was necessary. My old friend had a large house and a pool, so that occupied us all year round, seeing as it was always warm or scorching hot; a pool was always of use. I grabbed two bottles of water and two random bags of chips.

As I approached the couch, I tossed the bottles onto the empty cushion. She jumped slightly as they hit the leather but grabbed one and began gulping down the drink. I held out the bags and she quickly grabbed the Lays potato chips. I stuck with the ranch Doritos, not that I’m complaining. After about five minutes of just watching Desperate Housewives, I cleared my throat. “Do you want to talk about it?”

She shrugged, turning towards me after muting the television. “Remember in gym class when I had to talk to him about something important?”

I nodded and she continued speaking. “It was about my mother. She’s home now, in case you were wondering, and requested the two of us have dinner with her. My mother and Noah aren’t on the best terms nor have they ever been on the best terms, so he refused. I practically begged him in the parking lot and he shouted at me. He told me that we weren’t real family and that the moment he turns 18, he’s leaving.”

“When does he turn 18?” I asked.

“In the middle of his first year in college, on December 12th.” She told me, her voice cracking slightly. “But that doesn’t matter; I can’t face my mother alone.”

“It’s that bad?” I asked her and she nodded.

She let her head rest on the back of the couch. “She called me a failure when I quit the dance squad after breaking my leg.”

I was silent. Even though my mother isn’t the best mother, she would never say something like that. “She only married my father because he’s rich and she was pregnant and couldn’t do it by herself.”

I didn’t know what to say. I was honestly shocked. I didn’t expect her to open up to me. I just assumed she didn’t want to go home because her brother might be there and she didn’t want to face him yet. “Noah knows this and he hates our father and my mother.”

“Where’s Noah’s mother?” I asked. If he hates his father so much, why can’t he live with her?

She turned to look at me, her eyes glossy as if she was on the verge of tears again. “I can’t tell you that, I’m sorry.”

I nodded in response, struggling to think of a smooth way to change the subject. Maybe this is why I don’t have friends, because I’m too socially awkward to make any. But before I could say something, she did. “Where are your parents?”

I noticed that she was staring at a picture of my mother, my father, and me. I was sitting on my mother’s lap and my father was right beside her, kissing the side of her head. “My mother is on a trip for work and my father isn’t here.”

I think she caught onto what I was saying about my dad but not quite with my mother. “Who’s watching you?”

I wanted to laugh in response. I’ve been watching myself since I was 16. “Me.”

Her eyes widened slightly but I didn’t understand why. She and her brother seem alone all the time, so why is it surprising that I’m alone? “Really? You’re just…alone?”

I nodded. “Why is that so surprising?”

She shook her head, shrugging as she did so. “I don’t know, it must get lonely, though.”

I nodded. “Yeah, I guess it does.”

We continued watching Desperate Housewives and even though I don’t like this show, I didn’t bother changing it. I was too lost in thought.