Haven't edited this one, since I won't have internet connection for very long and couldn't upload earlier - was over my boyfriend's watching Supernatural (we're on season two :D) so here's chapter eleven, hope you enjoy :)

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Chapter 11

The week passes in a blur. My classes are all pretty good. Tuesday morning, we all pick out electives in homeroom. Tiffany and Melissa don’t have to, since they’re doing cheerleading in some of their free periods. I scan through my choices: Drama club, choir, debate team and creative writing.

                They all suck, really. But since I have to pick something, I end up choosing creative writing. It can’t be that hard, can it? But no way was I going to join choir or drama. I don’t sing outside of the shower, and I’ve never acted in my entire life. I didn’t even bother to consider the debate team. Those three options would involve me getting out there, in front of people, and I’d just really rather not.

                It turns out that creative writing isn’t so bad; the teacher just leaves us to our own devices, mostly, giving us all a blank journal and telling us to write whatever we want. So that’s what I do.

                The week flies past though, so quickly that I wonder where it’s gone. I struggle through physics with Dwight trying his best to be patient as he talks me through the basic things in more depth.

                Throughout the week, I get introduced to a few more people – most of them friends with the popular clique, but not necessarily very close to any of them, but they’re also mostly seniors, so have a slightly separate popular clique. Everyone I meet seems nice enough though.

                I carry on talking to Carter in Art & Photography, even when he suggests I don’t.

                “Your friends won’t be too impressed if they find out you hang out with me in art class.”

                “I don’t really care, to be honest,” I tell him. I do care a little, but not enough that I want to not speak to him at all. That just seems stupid.

                By the time Friday rolls around though, time drags by, and I can’t stop fidgeting throughout the whole of double AP Physics in the morning.

                “What’s eating you?” Dwight asks, a chuckle in his voice. “You can’t sit still.”

                “Tiffany’s having a party later tonight.” Even my voice sounds nervous and fidgety – jumpy.

                “Ah, I thought it was that. I heard about it the other day,” he adds by way of explanation. “Why are you so nervous though?”

                I shrug my shoulders alternately. “I don’t know. I just – I didn’t do parties much in Pineford.” He’s the only person I’ve told that to. I clamp my mouth shut instantly. I shouldn’t have said that. I can’t have just let myself tell someone.

                But it’s Dwight, I think to myself. Dwight’s… different.

                “Oh.” He nods, and doesn’t ask me anything more about it. I’m glad; I don’t want to elaborate on it at all.

                “Do you have any plans for the weekend, then?” I make conversation.

                “Nothing much, really, just –”

                “Everybody, listen up.” Dr. Anderson claps his hands together loudly twice and stands up, bracing his hands palm-down on his desk as he leans forward, looking out over us all through his glasses. The class falls silent, as always. “I’m about to announce your projects for the semester, so you’d better shut up and listen to what I have to say.”

                He pauses for a minute, just to make sure we’ve all shut up to listen.

                “I will be giving you your projects for the semester next week, but I’ll tell you what you’re going to be doing now. It will count for twenty percent of your final grade, so I don’t recommend you taking it lightly. You will create, with your partner, a presentation on a scientist of your choice. You will tell us all about their contribution to the scientific world. Preferably a physicist, however. We are not especially interested in Gregor Mendel’s pea experiments, however useful to our understanding of genetics they may be. Thomas Young. Willebrord Snell. Wherever possible, you will carry out your own experiments related to your chosen scientist’s findings. But if you are going to choose Newton, please don’t attack your partner’s head with apples. We don’t need to cause anybody concussion.”

                There’re a few chuckles at that.

                “I won’t set this project formally until next week, but you may begin to think about it now. Remember, twenty percent of your final grade.”

                A few moments of silence pass before Dr. Anderson says, “There’re only eight minutes left of this lesson, you may all pack up and leave.”

                There’s a collective scraping of stools on the laminate tile flooring as everyone gets up, shoving their things into their bags to leave.

                I, on the other hand, turn to Dwight with a look of dread consuming my face. “Experiments? You mean, I can’t just copy and paste from Wikipedia?”

                Dwight laughs. “We’re doing it with our lab partners, Madison, so I really hope you’re not going to copy and paste from Wikipedia.”

                I sigh melodramatically and say, “I’m destined to fail…”

                Dwight says with a shrug and a comforting smile, “It’s an AP class, so of course he’s going to make us do experiments. Nothing lethal, or even remotely dangerous though, don’t worry. Besides, you’re buddied up with me, so I don’t know why you’re looking so scared.”

                “Well, it’s just…” I trail off then run a hand through my hair, frustrated. “Ugh, I hate physics. I hate science. I suck at school.”

                Dwight laughs and bumps my shoulder with his as we head out of the door. “Calm down, Madison, it’ll be fine.”

                “I can barely keep up in class,” I say miserably. “You’d be better off doing this project by yourself, believe me.”

                “Look, I already have a couple of ideas, and it won’t even be too hard once we figure out what we’re doing. It’ll be fine.”

                I make a strange noise to express my doubt. It comes out as “Nngaaah,” but Dwight seems to understand me just fine anyway, and laughs a little bit.

                “See you ’round, Madison,” he says.

                I try to say ‘bye’ but I’m still worrying about this darn physics project, so it sounds more like, “Baaah.” I hear Dwight chuckle again as he heads off in the opposite direction.

                I know my way around the school by now, and I know where I’m headed. I make my way out to the front of the school, to the picnic benches, where we’ve been hanging out all week. I slide my cell phone out of my back pocket when I see there’s only Adam and Ricky there, sending a quick text to Tiffany and Summer saying I’m out of class early, where are they?

                I swear, I didn’t know I’d need a cell phone so much. Tiffany stole it on Tuesday to add in everyone’s numbers. She seemed totally shocked I had, like, four numbers in there.

                “What about all your friends from back in Maine?” she’d asked.

                “Uh, well I had to get a new phone when I moved here, it’s… It’s complicated. Long story,” I told her, hoping my voice wasn’t as frantic as I felt.

                “Couldn’t you have got their numbers from Facebook or something? I looked at your profile yesterday and you had practically nobody on there. What was up with that?” I’d chosen to not reply by pitching into the conversation Ricky and Melissa had been having.   

                Now, I throw my bag down onto the table and swing onto the bench. “Hey guys.”

                “Hi, Madison.” Adam says, “How’s AP Physics going for ya?”

                They all seem to think it’s kind of hilarious that I’m stuck in AP Physics with no way out.

                I don’t think it’s funny at all, to be completely honest.

                “Just peachy,” I tell him sarcastically, and Adam and Kyle laugh. “What’ve you guys just had?”

                “Chemistry,” Adam says.

                Kyle tells me, “Sociology.”

                “Fun. You guys are going to Tiffany’s tonight, aren’t you?” I know they’re going. But I feel awkward still, so I say anything just to make conversation. I don’t really know how to make conversation with them – with any of them, really.

                “Yeah,” they both answer.

                “Hey, guys!” Summer’s voice rings across the field and I twist from my seat on the bench to see her wandering over to us. I shoot her a smile.

                “Where’s Marcus?” Kyle asks.

                “He had to go home and get his Trig homework. He said Mrs. Gillen will kill him if he doesn’t hand it in,” she adds with a laugh.

                Kyle swears. “He’s still got my damn soccer boots, I forgot to pick them up…”

                “He’s probably already on his way back now,” Summer says. “He left about twenty minutes ago.”

                Kyle swears again and he and Adam laughs. Adam says, “Coach is going to kill you if you don’t get any by lunch.”

                “Don’t you have any spare boots?” I ask. “Or, like, an old pair you can use for now?”

                Kyle turns to look at me slowly, and then stares at me. His expression says what he says aloud then: “You’re a freaking genius. No wonder they stuck you in AP Physics.”

                “Ha-ha.”

                He rummages into the pockets of his low-slung and kind of too-big jeans, pulling out his car keys. He tosses the keys into the air and catches them deftly. “I’ll be back soon. Summer, if I’m not back at the start of geography, tell him I’m… Tell him something.”

                “Okay!”

                Kyle jogs across the field to the parking lot. We watch him go for a moment or two then the faint, muffled sound of the bell ringing in the school sounds. Soon enough, kids pour out of the school. Some of them head to their cars, some of them linger around the school doors, and most of them walk down to the field.

                Bryce and Ricky turn up first, closely followed by Melissa and Tiffany.

                For a brief second, I don’t see the people walking toward me as people who I’ve been hanging out with for the past week, people who actually like me and want to be friends with me. I see them as everyone else probably sees them, and as I would’ve seen them if I was still the old Madison, still Fatty Maddie: if you looked up ‘intimidation’ in the dictionary, you’d probably find a picture of them. They’re all attractive, and well dressed, but it’s more than that – they’re confident, and they know people look at them and want to be like them. Well, at least, people think they want to be like them.

                I know what it’s like, wanting to be one of the popular people. One of those elite people who seem to have it easy in high school. You think that your life automatically gets better if you’re one of them. But I also know it’s not true, at all. High school doesn’t get any easier if you’re popular. It’s just a different kind of outlook from that high up on the social standings.

                But those thoughts only last about a second; then I shake it off, grin, and say, “Hi guys!”

                “Everybody excited for my party tonight?” Tiffany asks brightly, excitement glittering in her eyes.

                We all answer affirmatively. Again, though, my stomach does that nauseating twist, because I’m not sure if I’m more anxious or excited for this party. A beach party where I knew only one person was one thing – but a house party, even a ‘small get-together’ like this, with all the popular people I’ve been hanging out with for a week, is another thing altogether.

                “What’s everyone wearing?” Melissa asks, dropping onto the bench beside me.

                “Clothes,” I say, and a couple of them laugh.

                “See, now I was planning on going naked. Butt naked,” Ricky says, and he sounds so serious, it’s all the more funny.

                “That’s not something we want to see,” I deadpan, and Adam and Bryce jeer at Ricky.

                “What’re you wearing?” Summer asks Melissa seriously.

                “You know I bought that dress, last week of summer? The purple one, with the white braided belt and it’s got a neckline, like, around here…”

                “Oh, yeah! I know the one. I’m stuck between my black skirt and –”

                “Which one? The leather one?”

                “I bought that for a costume party, you know that. No, the one…”

                I kind of tune out then, because I’m not all that interested in the exact details of what they’re wearing. But I listen just enough so that I know they’re all going to wear skirts or dresses.

                Fingers snap in front of my face, making me jump. I must’ve spaced out.

                “Hello, earth to Madison!” Tiffany raises her eyebrows questioningly at me. “What’re you wearing to the party tonight?”

                “I don’t know,” I say honestly.

                “Oh, yeah, right,” Allison laughs. “Come on, we want to know!”

                “Well, um, jeans, I guess.”

                Summer sighs loudly. Tiffany says, “No way, you cannot wear jeans to the first party of the year. You’ve gotta look like your badass sexy inner self! Don’t you have any dresses or anything?”

                I got three dresses when I bought my new wardrobe – one white lace one which I thought was too short but my mom said looked really pretty, one summery dress, and a black dress, because I figured the little black dress was something I couldn’t go without if I was going to take being the new Madison seriously. Every girl needs an LBD. Or so Jenna claims, anyway.

                “Yeah,” I say hesitantly. “But…”

                “What’s wrong with wearing a dress?” Bryce asks. “Don’t tell me it’s too mainstream for ya.”

                I laugh, and roll my eyes at him. “No. I just… don’t really… wear dresses…”

                He shrugs. “Then wear jeans.”

                “No!” Melissa says. “Come on, Madison, get into the party spirit!”

                “At least wear a dress for the first party of the year,” Tiffany tries to goad me.

                “I thought the party at the beach was the first party of the year.”

                “No, that’s the end of summer party,” Summer tells me. “Come on.”

                “Fine!” I give in, laughing. “Okay, okay, I’ll wear the dress!”

                “Awesome,” Tiffany says with a broad grin. “Guys, bring your own drink tonight, remember. Spread the word, okay?”

                Everyone agrees with varying degrees of enthusiasm.

                I don’t say anything, but they don’t seem to notice. I don’t know if my parents are going to give me anything to drink or not. My guess would be ‘not’, after what Dad said. Not that I even want to drink, really, so it didn’t matter either way: fact is, I know I’m not going to drink there tonight.

                The bell rings a few minutes later, and we all head our separate ways. Lucky for me, I have gym. Fantastic.

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I know it was kind of short; I'll upload Saturday/Sunday. The party is coming up! :D Let me know what you thought :) x