Charlie had to get out of this classroom NOW. It was as though the teacher was daring him to kill himself right then and there. Fifth period was always boring, but today was an entirely different level of suckage. Hearing the teacher talk about logarithms was nothing short of torture. Unless he could eat it, he didn't care much about what a logarithmic pattern was or how he could potentially use it, in a job that he'd never even want.
"You're a logarithm." He grumbled to himself, half aware that he was speaking aloud.
"Mr. Walker? Did you have something to add?" Mr. Jaymes is a bitch. He took any opportunity to embarrass and humiliate his students. Charlie was over it. Howard Jaymes has been teaching calculus for 20 years and hated kids as much as they did him.
"Yes... Uh, can I go to the restroom?" Charlie got up from his desk and left without even waiting to hear an answer. He didn't even care if he got detention.
He wandered the halls and found himself standing in front of the east second-floor vending machine. He had no real memory of walking that far away, but as long as he was there, he may as well get something. The barbecue chips had been taunting him to buy them all day anyway, so this seemed like a perfect opportunity.
Charlie dug in his pockets.
"You've got to be fucking kidding me." All he wanted was these stupid fucking chips, and he was a whole dollar short. The boy hit the plexiglass with an open palm. Suddenly out of the corner of his eye, he saw someone. The boy looked to the left of the machine and saw that he was indeed being watched.
"Hey, you're Charlie Walker right?" A short girl stepped forward and leaned against the machine. "Here, I have a dollar." She reached into her back pocket and pulled out a crisp, neatly folded one, and handed it to him.
"Err... yeah that's me. Who's asking?"
"Oh, my name is Leah Oliver. I'm in Cinema Club with you." She smiled warmly at him. "...And in 2nd-hour history." He could have sworn that he saw the girl blush.
"Oh, yeah?" Charlie unfolded the dollar and leaned against the machine, his shirt sleeve wrinkling against the glass. "Yeah, I'm Charlie."
"Awesome," she smiled again and her bangs fell across her face, and she giggled again. "I actually wanted to talk to you."
Charlie fed the machine Leah's dollar and put in his own quarter. C7 the best and only real selection. A8 was tempting, but no one wanted beef jerky breath while talking to a girl, even if she was a stranger. F3 would have been his first choice, but like always, it was empty.
"Why's that?" How had he never seen this girl before? She seemed like the type that would stick out. He took note of her novelty Night of the Living Dead shirt. It was tight, showing off her curves.
"It's nothing really, I just wanted to te…" RIIIIING! The bell interrupted their chat.
She stepped forward towards the boy. "Hey meet me here after school? We should hang out. I'll buy food!" Leah smiled and reached out to squeeze his shoulder and turned on her heels to sprint down the hall to her next class.
•••
After the final bell had rung, Charlie was making his way to the vending machine. The remaining two periods seemed to take much longer than usual, but now that they were over time seemed to race as quickly as his pulse. Who WAS this girl anyway and how had he never noticed her before. Leah Oliver… how had he never met her before? Or had he and he just didn't remember?
He could see Leah sitting by the vending machine. Her back pressed against the side, reading an old script of The Hills Have Eyes. A highlighter cap dangled from her lips as she furiously traced lines in her book. A thing like that must have cost her a fortune. Original scripts don't come cheap.
"Hey," Charlie stood in front of the girl, offering his hand down to her to help her to her feet. Leah shoved the script and the highlighter in her bag. "What did you want to do?" Leah grabbed his hand and hopped up.
"I can't tell you now, it will ruin the surprise! I mean, c'mon, where's your sense of adventure?" She laughed and grabbed his shirt sleeve and darted through the hall, pulling him close behind her. He tried not to step on the backs of her shoes as he trotted to keep up with the tiny horror geek. They weaved in and out of the crowd, downstairs and out to her car. Leah let go of Charlie's shirt and threw her bag in the back of her black Toyota Highlander.
"Here, gimme your bag Cinema Boy." Leah tossed his Jansport in the back and motioned for him to get in. "Come on, hop in!"
They were driving down Mt. Olive Ln. when Leah spoke. "So, I was thinking we could get some ice cream or something?" She turned the radio on.
"Uh sure."