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Excuse the mistakes

Picture of Harper (played by Kathryn Prescott) on side ==>

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"Okay, now add the magnesium shavings."

I tipped the small test tube and watched as the metal flakes started to drop into the beaker. However, one shove from behind caused my hand to shake, and the magnesium spilled all over the black stone tabletop. I swore under my breath and glared up at Chad McKenna as he high fived his friends at their lab table.

Cleaning up all the shavings took a good chunk of time, seeing as I wasn't supposed to touch them with my skin, so before I could finish the lab, the bell rang. I swore quietly but grabbed my backpack off the ground. I could just add this lab to the pile of others ones I didn't finish thanks to Chad and his meathead friends.

How they were in AP chemistry, I had no idea.

I pushed through the sea of students to my locker only to find my "neighbor", Tara, leaning against it and making out with her boyfriend. "Excuse me," I said, tapping her on the shoulder.

"What?" she spat, tearing her lips from his. Tara's eyes focused on me and she smirked. "Enjoying the view, Harper?"

I refrained from rolling my eyes at the rude way she said my name, and I pointed at my locker. However, before I could say something, and arm was slung over my shoulder and a familiar voice said, "You mean the view of you sucking face with your overly horny boyfriend?"

I glanced to the side to find my best friend, Olive, with her eyebrows raised provocatively.

Tara's eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms over her extremely exposed chest. She looked like she was going to say something back, but then her head snapped back to her boyfriend. "C'mon, babe, let's go find somewhere where we won't be interrupted!"

"I'm sure the boiler room is open!" Olive called after them, and then she pulled away from me. "That girl is a bitch," she remarked, and I rolled my eyes. I reached for the lock on my locker and Olive swatted at my hand. "Careful!" she cried, "You might catch a STD."

"You're ridiculous," I said with a laugh, and I twisted my combo into the lock and pulled it open. I emptied my backpack and then reloaded it with the folders and notebooks that I'd need for my next couple classes. Then, Olive and I started through the hallways of the school, our elbows linked.

Olive and I had been best friends since fifth grade, when she stood up to a bully for me. I was the new, quiet girl in school, and apparently that made me an easy target during recess. However, Olive had tackled the head bully toe h grade and shoved his face into the sandbox. After she'd gotten back from a meeting in the principal's office, Olive and I became inseparable. To this day, she was the more outgoing one, and I was the quieter one, but she was still working on getting me out of my shell.

That said, I hadn't told her about me and the mystery guy at my aunt's wedding reception two weeks ago. I had been dead serious when I said I wanted to keep it a secret from everybody.

"So what did you do all weekend?" Olive asked as we shoved through the mass of students crowding the hallway.

"What I always do," I answered, "I sat in my room watching Netflix, did homework, and slept. Is there any other meaning to a weekend?"

"You need to get out more, Harper," Olive groaned, throwing her free hand up dramatically. "I swear, you've actually made if your mission not to have a social life for your entire high school career!"

"Yeah, that's exactly what I'm doing," I replied sarcastically, and then Olive and I reached the classroom that housed our home economics class, and we strolled inside. We settled down at our cooking station, and I picked up the recipe card that we had been assigned for the class.

Olive and I were taking home economics for two totally different reasons. She was taking it to boost her GPA, since she needed the A, but that wasn't my motivation. I was in it for the free food, and I know that makes me sound like dork, but the home economics class was famous for the surprisingly good food it produced. Neither of my parents were good cooks, so I would take it where I could get it.

"What are we making today?" Olive asked as she pulled on her apron.

"Strawberry Shortcake," I drawled, and I grabbed my own apron off of the hook at the end of our cooking station. Olive smacked her lips, and I chuckled to myself.

After we gathered our ingredients and our teacher, Mrs. Marshall, gave us basic instructions, we were all left to our own devices. This meant that I would start mixing the ingredients, and Olive would start trying to sneak and eat all the Cool Whip. I say try, because she usually ended up with some on her nose and cheeks, which wasn't the best way to be stealthy.

"Do you think this is going to come out better than the macaroni and cheese we had to make last class?" Olive asked as she started to measure out the flour we'd need to make the biscuits.

"I sure hope so," I replied, giving her a sideways glance, "But, you know, I'm not the one who managed to burn the water."

"That was an accident!" Olive declared, putting her now flour-covered hands on her hips. "It's not my fault Lillian decided to text me when I was supposed to be boiling the noodles. I'm not not going to respond to my girlfriend!"

Yes. Olive is a lesbian, and I still absolutely loved her. Olive came out to me our freshman year of high school, and she came out publicly at the end of our sophomore year, when she started dating her current girlfriend, Lillian. They'd been together through thick and thin, like when Lillian's parents disowned her and Olive got teased by some assholes on the football team. I thought Lil and Olive were perfect for each other, and I wasn't shy about telling them that.

"I'll forgive you as long as you don't mess up the biscuits," I replied, "because the biscuits are what make a strawberry sundae a strawberry shortcake."

"I'll do my best," Olive stated, and she took some flour and put it under her eyes like war paint. I laughed and copied her, and then we nodded at each other seriously. "Shall we cook?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"We shall," I said firmly.

*

By my last class, I was ready to go home and sleep.

After home economics class, I'd taken a math test which I'd forgotten to study for, and then after that, I'd gone to lunch where I discovered my mom accidently gave me my dad's tuna sandwich. History class had pretty much made me nod off, and now, sitting in English, all I wanted to do was put my head down on my desk and pass out.

I'd taken a pit stop to the nearby ladies' room since I thought I might've drooled in History class, and while I was there, I made sure to run a few fingers threw my dark brown hair. I didn't really want to look like I'd slept under an overpass, because I actually cared about my physical appearance. It wasn't something I liked to voice, but hey; some girls like to look nice and have others think that they're not a total dump.

I quickly made sure the pockets of my skinny jeans were tucked in, and then I straightened my hunter green sweat, which I'd gotten as a birthday present from Olive. Then, I adjusted my backpack on my shoulders and strolled out of the bathroom into the semi-crowded hallway.

I walked down the hallway towards my English classroom while I made sure to take my sweet time. My English teacher, Mr. Whitman, wasn't a stickler about being late unless you stroll in five minutes after the bell, but I did my best not to take advantage of that.

When I reached the classroom, I immediately went for my usual seat in the back, and I let my backpack drop the floor with a thud as I sat down. The rest of the class filed in and found their seats at a lazy pace, and about two minutes after the bell rang, signaling the start of class, Mr. Whitman got up and started writing something on the board.

In class, we were currently reading A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens. I would never admit this out loud, but I absolutely loved the book and the characters of Sydney Carton and Madame DeFarge. Most people in my grade thought the book was boring and they didn't understand it, but I absolutely devoured the book.

Just as Mr. Whitman started his lesson for the day, which, from the looks of the notes written on the board, was about revenge and redemption, the door to the classroom swung open and Justin Dawes walked in.

Let me tell you something about Justin Dawes.

Justin is the star of the school's football team, and he is pretty much seen as a god by almost every girl in my high school. Now, I didn't like admitting it, but I had had a crush on Justin since eighth grade. However, I had braces that year, and trust me when I say that I don't have the face to pull off braces. So, I had to live with crushing hard from afar.

"Late again, Mr. Dawes," Mr. Whitman said with a raised eyebrow and an annoyed look on his face.

"Sorry, Mr. W," Justin replied, rubbing the back of his neck , "Coach pulled the guys together o have a quick meeting about the game on Friday, and we lost track of time."

"Anything to beat the Bulldogs," Mr. Whitman deadpanned, referring to the rival team the football team was facing off of Friday night on the home field. It was obvious to me that Mr. Whitman was being completely sarcastic, but apparently not to Justin.

"Thanks, Mr. W!" he said with his really hot smile.

Then, while Mr. Whitman tried to figure out how to respond to that, Justin walked past him to get to a seat. As he walked down the aisle to the immediate left of my desk, my eyes met Justin's and I mentally cursed at myself as I felt my cheeks redden.

"H-hi," I breathed as he got closer, and then I had to resist the urge to slap my hand over my mouth for saying something so stupid.

Justin, on the other hand, just grinned and nodded at me. "Hey Hannah," he said, and then he plopped down in the desk diagonal from me on my left.

Harper, I thought to myself, my name is Harper! I bit the inside of my lip to keep from saying that, because I didn't want to make a scene or make him feel stupid. Instead, I just smiled since he'd said hi back, and I slumped down lower in my seat to make myself comfortable.

Mr. Whitman started his lecture, and about ten minutes into it, I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. As slyly as I could, I pulled it out and read the screen to find a text message from my mom. Quietly, I put the phone under my desktop and opened the text.

I groaned inwardly as I saw that it was yet another reminder that tomorrow night, the son of a family friend was coming to stay with us for the rest of the school year. His parents were coming to drop him off, and we were having a fancy dinner at my house to welcome him home, as well as send off his parents. I'd never met the guy before, but apparently, he was a senior like me, and he would be enrolled in my school for the rest of the year.

Personally, I didn't get the point of him switching schools in November of his senior year, but apparently his parents had to relocate to Japan for his dad's job, and they wanted him to stay in the states to finish high school. Our parents had all known each other growing up, so my mom had volunteered our house without even consulting me.

I wasn't exactly ecstatic.

Most girls I knew would be jumping up and down in excitement if they found out that a mysterious boy was coming to live with them. I, however, couldn't care less. Frankly, I didn't know him, personality-wise or physically-wise, so I didn't really feel like I needed to get excited.

When I'd told Olive about it, she'd stated that it was an opportunity to meet a guy and get a boyfriend. Olive was always trying to get me to be more outgoing, but I liked leaving that to her. I'd always been quiet, and I wasn't sure I wanted to change that. Plus, I didn't really think a guy could bring me out of my quiet exterior.

I shot a text back to my mom, telling her that of course I remember about tomorrow and that I wouldn't be late to the dinner. Then, I slipped my phone into my pocket again, and I reopened my copy of A Tale of Two Cities to the passage we were discussing.

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Here's the new chapter! What do you think of Olive? (If you're not okay with gay people, don't bother fanning or reading my stories because I am a 110% supporter of gay rights and love=love). I think we all know who the son of the family friend is ;)

Also, A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens is one of my favorite books! Go read it!

Wow, this got to 100 votes in two days! That's amazing, so thank you guys!

I am reall freaking tired, guys. I'm going to bed now.

Song on the side is Same Love by Macklemore & Ryan Lewis. I absolutely love the message in the song, and the lyrics are meaningful and touching. 

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