Claire is used to the boys at her school whistling at her. She's used to the catcalls. She knows that the popular clique of girls at her school call her 'the Snow Queen' or even 'the Virgin Mary.' The blasphemous words anger her more than any intended insult. She was suspended for a week due to fighting, but the black-eye she had dealt lasted longer than the suspension. Her muttered comment about demonic possession earned her the regular counseling.
Even the outsiders at school began avoiding her after that.
Which is perfectly fine by Claire who doesn't need friends. Friends can be possessed and use against you. Friends talk about fathers who disappear for years. Friends are a waste of time that could be better spent learning Latin and Enochian. The sooner her mother gets that, the happier they'll all be in the long run.
Claire likes to be alone. When Claire walks through the hallways of her school, the stupid little civilian children part like the Red Sea before her.
Claire kind of likes it that way.
So she's a little surprised when she runs into someone on her way back from lunch with her nose stuck in Mystery Spot. She's even more surprised when he doesn't hastily move away or pick a fight.
Instead, he holds out his hand and smiles. "I'm Jesse Turner. I'm new."
Claire raises one eyebrow slowly, a trick that she learned from her mother, and pointedly goes back to her book as she stepped around the new boy.
It doesn't faze him. He sort of hop-skips around, and then again to catch up to her. "I know who you are. You're Claire Novak, the prettiest girl in school, but you don't have any friends because you're weird."
Claire shrugs him off again. It doesn't appear to bother him in the slightest as he continues to follow her—still talking.
"I'm in seventh grade, and I pretty much only like art and science. I like knowing how things work . . . how they really work, not just how people say they work, you know? Oh, and I moved here from Australia, and even after spending a whole year there, I didn't pick up the accent." He sounds slightly disgusted by this, and Claire pauses. He comes to a halt beside her.
Claire closes her book carefully and deliberately. "What. Do. You. Want."
"To be your friend," Jesse shrugs. "I'm weird too."
"Christo," Claire checks.
"In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti. Amen," he returned promptly, his eyes big and solemn.
So maybe he isn't a demon, and maybe—just maybe—he actually knows what's out there, but Claire doesn't want a friend. "I'm a freshman, and you're just a kid," she points out.
"I'm really mature for my age," Jesse assures her, and holds out his hand again, just grinning expectantly, and Claire knows that this kid isn't going to just go away. So against her better judgment, she takes the offered hand.
And jumps a foot when the hand buzzer goes off.
"Mature my ass," she swears, and shoves the laughing boy into the nearest set of lockers. He rebounds faster than she had expected and tails her all the way to study hall. Claire studiously ignores him until the door closes behind her.
It's too late to go back now. The gossips are already making up stories about Claire walking to class with the younger new boy. Claire ignores them all.
She'll deal with Jesse Turner later.