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If there is one thing I hate already about Spence, it's the curriculum. It wasn't enough that I had to take Biology at my old school during freshman year, I also have to suffer through AP Bio here. I could care less about ribosomes and interstitial fluid. And I hear we have to dissect a fetal pig later on in the year.
Um, gross?
The bio lab is state of the art and filled with new and expensive equipment. By the way Felicity Worthington looks around in approval, I can tell that it was because of her family that the lab is so advanced. She sits next to her friend Pippa, and the two look so out of place among the Bunsen burners and microscopes that I nearly laugh aloud. I'd love to see them try to dissect a pig.
I scan the room under the pretense of finding an open table to sit at, but I find myself looking for a black mess of curls instead. The search is partly in vain – Kartik is not here – but I do find one available seat.
I don't approve of judging based on someone's appearance, but I admit that even I do it once in a while. The girl I sit with is obviously a wannabe. She's short and chubby, but instead of accepting that fact and moving on, she tries to hide it. Or rather, she exposes it. She still wears her shirt tight and her skirt short, despite the blatant unattractiveness of the look.
There is a mousy look about her, like she's trying to hide within a hole in the wall. I immediately feel bad for thinking such things about her.
"Hi," I say in my most friendly tone. It sounds fake and syrupy. "I'm Gemma."
"I'm Ann," she says flatly without looking up.
"Nice to meet you," I say quietly. Is everyone in this school so unfriendly to new people? I realize most of them grew up together, but that doesn't mean they have to try so hard to make me feel like an outsider.
But that is just what I am – an outsider.
Class is about to start when the nose job girl hurries in the room, her face flushed and excited. She is such in a hurry to get to her friends that she trips over Ann's backpack on the floor.
"Watch it, Fatso," she growls at Ann. Her friends snicker evilly. Felicity and Pippa are among their number.
I wait for Ann to snap back at her, as any sane person would, but it never comes. From the look on Ann's face it is obvious that she is very used to it. I don't know whether I should feel sorry for her or frustrated at her meekness.
"What a bitch that girl is," I whisper. "What's her name?"
Ann looks at me in surprise. "Cecily Temple," she says. "Most girls like you think she's nice."
Girls like me? What is that supposed to mean? Sizing up the situation, I realize it's a test. She wants to know if I am like them, the popular girls, or not. I decide not to answer one way or the other.
"Yes, well we had it out in English already," I say breezily. Let her know for herself that I'm not something to be stepped on.
"I know," she says. Her eyes have an unreadable gleam to them.
"You do?" What Kartik said was an understatement – gossip travels at the speed of light in this school.
"I'm in that class."
"Oh. I didn't see you there," I say.
The gleam is gone from her eyes, replaced quickly with dull acceptance. "It's okay. No one does."
It's a good thing that the teacher bustles in at that very moment, because I'd have had nothing to say. I have never met someone that feels sorry for herself so openly. I at least have the decency to keep it to myself.
After a short introduction, our teacher, a tall, gangly fellow named Mr. Card, announces that we'll use today as a refresher on microscopes.
"Microscopes are your friends in AP Bio," he says jovially. "Your intricate, delicate, damn useful friends. Friends with benefits, if you will."
A tinkling of laughter runs throughout the class. Though he probably knows we are just humoring him, he appears satisfied. He instructs one student from every lab pair to retrieve a microscope from the back of the room.
"I'll go," Ann offers.
"Thanks."
All around me, chairs scrape the floor and backpacks are kicked aside as half the class grudgingly goes to retrieve their microscopes. I catch a few complaints from the students, mostly girls.
"My parents donate to this school every year. Can't they like, get someone to do this stuff for us?"
"Oh my God, this is so heavy!"
A crash at the back of the room makes me cringe. Someone has dropped their microscope.
"Watch it, Bradshaw!"
"Mr. Card, Ann made us drop our microscope!"
"What is this?" The teacher crosses the room in a few strides. "What's going on here, Felicity?"
Like everyone else, I turn around to watch the scene. Pippa and Felicity stand side by side, staring accusingly at Ann, who drops her head in shame. A microscope lays broken on the floor in between them. Felicity adapts a sorrowful expression.
"I was simply retrieving a microscope, a brand new microscope, like you asked, Mr. Card. I had just lifted it from the shelf when Ann barged in and knocked my arm out of the way to get hers. I mean, I can understand the excitement over starting a new term of biology, but such barbaric haste is simply not needed."
"I-I didn't mean to," Ann says shakily. Even from my distance I can see that she is on the verge of tears.
"Yes you did!" Pippa screeches. "You wanted to ruin all the good things Fee's father bought for the school!"
"Pippa, please," Mr. Card says, rubbing his head. "Did I not ask for only one person from each lab group to come up and get a microscope? Perhaps if you hadn't felt the need to accompany Felicity, it would not have been so crowded and Ann would not have accidentally bumped into her."
"How can this by my fault?"
"It is no one's fault. It was an accident. Everyone get your microscopes and please sit down!"
When Ann returns to the table, she is beet-red in the face and sniffling.
"I know it wasn't your fault," I whisper.
"She dropped it! I didn't even touch her!"
"Watch it, Bradshaw. No one likes a liar," Felicity drawls from two tables over. She catches my eye and offers a dazzling smile. I can't take it. I don't know who Felicity thinks she is, but she definitely needs to be taken down a peg.
"I don't think Ann is the one lying here," I challenge.
"Oh?" A finely tweezed blonde brow arches. "Who is the liar then?"
I stare her down. "I think Daddy might be mad to hear about his investments being squandered by his little girl," I say calmly.
Her small gray eyes narrow to slits. "You can't prove anything," she hisses.
I shrug nonchalantly. Inside, my heart is pounding with the strength of a herd of horses galloping. Slowly, Felicity turns around, her eyes never leaving me. I let out a small sigh as I bend over the microscope. I can see the smallest hint of a smile on Ann's face.
Felicity approaches me just as the final bell rings for the day to set us free unto the streets of Manhattan. My guard goes up instantly, but I quickly find there is no need.
"Look, we got off to a bad start," she explains. "Let's start over? You seem like a cool girl and I'd like to be friends."
I study her face. She seems earnest enough and it would be nice to have friends again. "Okay," I say smiling.
She grins. "Great."
"Just one thing though," I add. I honestly don't know why these words bubble up. "Do you think you guys could be nicer to Ann?"
Her smile falters. "Be nicer to Ann? Why?"
"Because she's nice."
"Gemma, she's…"
"What, weird? Or just different from you?"
Her eyes flash angrily. "Don't put words in my mouth. Things are different at this school. Some of us are worth hanging out with and some aren't."
I cross my arms over my chest. "Guess I'm not worth hanging out with then."
She rolls her eyes. "Why are you so protective of Ann?"
"She's a nice girl." I could be lying; I don't even know her.
"Fine. I guess I'll give her a chance or something."
"Great, then I'll see you later." I grab my bag and head for my locker without looking back.
It is just my luck that it is raining. Back in the suburbs, rain was great. We'd splash around and jump in puddles like children, laughing harder the wetter we'd get. But in the city, rainy days are the worst. All the grime in the streets surfaces, creating oily slicks that look like industrial rainbows on the ground. Not only is there the possibility of slipping and breaking your neck, but also the probability of a nasty taxi driver cutting too close to the sidewalk and speeding into puddles that quickly become tidal waves.
I look up helplessly from under the awning of the school.
"Need a ride?"
I search for the owner of the voice. It comes from a gunmetal gray car pulled in front of Spence. Hmm, a stranger with candy? Abandoning my shelter, I step out into the downpour and look into the car. My heart instantly beats faster.
Kartik peers out at me curiously, like a child seeing a giraffe for the first time. He's offering me a ride, so he can't be mad at me right? Or are Felicity and Pippa right and he's just some psycho eager to skin me and add me to his collection of…skin. I shudder, partly from my overactive imagination and partly from the cold of the rain seeping into my clothes.
He shakes his head at my indecisiveness. "Get in."
I fumble with the door handle for a moment and manage to slide into the car without crashing into something or exposing myself. Miracles do happen, I suppose.
"Thanks," I say quietly. Something about him makes me feel small and vulnerable. He gazes at me for a moment, his expression unreadable.
"You're shivering," he says, reaching around to the back seat for something. He emerges with a worn-in hoodie, the kind girls love to steal from their boyfriends, and hands it to me.
"Thank you," I say again, putting it on. I'm instantly filled with the scent of him – warm, musky, and deep, all tied together with that untouchable scent that only certain males have. It's delicious and it takes all I can not to press the fabric to my nose and inhale deeply.
"So where do you need to go?" Kartik asks. I give him my address and he smirks "Of course," he whispers under his breath.
"What?" I ask, puzzled.
"Nothing."
He pulls out into the mad city traffic. I am surprised to hear classical music over the heavy rain.
"You like classical music?" I ask, anxious to keep the mood from falling into the realm of discomfort.
He offers a small smile that makes my belly shiver. "You sound surprised."
"Let me guess, you memorize sonnets and drink a lot of coffee," I joke.
"Well, you have me all figured out," he says with a laugh. "Now what about you?"
"What do you mean?" He brakes quickly to avoid an impatient taxi. Much to my surprise, his middle finger stays intact with the steering wheel. So much for stereotypical New York road rage.
"I don't get you."
His frank statement baffles me. "What's there to get? I'm just a normal girl."
"Are you?"
"Am I what?"
"Normal."
My eyes widen at him. "I think so."
He bites his bottom lip to hide a smile. "We'll see."
A bunch of school buses picking kids up from the Metropolitan Museum of Art block the street, making local traffic near impossible to navigate. "This is madness," he says, making an illegal U-turn. The car behind us lays on the horn. This time Kartik's middle finger is up and ready.
I grin at his display. To my delight, he returns it with a knee-melting one of his own. "Gemma, do you want to hang out at my place for a bit?"
I briefly think back to Felicity's warning, but it makes no difference to me. I don't know her any better than I know him, and I've never received such an invitation from a guy. Fueled by my bold behavior earlier today, I accept.
Bwahaha! Okay, intentional things that may seem like errors. Yes, this Gemma is more confident than AGATB Gemma, the reasons being how she's treated modern day as opposed to Victorian times. As the story goes on, it won't seem too different. And also, I know Kartik seems too nice now, but that won't last. I have my plans for both of them to keep them both in contemporary character. It will fit. I hope.
I have a confession. Anyone want to know why I write so much? Other than the fact that I love it...I skivv off on homework too much. I realized I don't like psychology anymore, so I can't force myself into reading for it. I'm the sort of person that is only motivated by written work. That's why I think English will be better for me. So now that I've revealed myself as a slacker, I will beg for reviews to make me feel less scummy.
Is losing motivation to finish Nectar of the Gods,
LunaEquus
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