Hello. It's me.

Nah, I'm not that person. I wouldn't do that to you guys.

So... musical season is back with a vengeance (can you tell by my not updating), even worse than last year. And brilliant me isn't going on hiatus this time. Updates won't be frequent; not even close. But I'm gonna do the best I can.

Also Gravity Falls and Undertale are teaming up to consume all of my time #sorrynotsorry

Without further ado... here, have a chapter based around everyone's favorite Jason. (No, Brianna, no brick... this time.)

ASK ME SHIT: ask . fm / megatonn

Margaret Simpson's POV

Jason Grace is the most unlikable person I've ever met. He's such a stereotype; handsome, popular, well-liked. And because I hate stereotypes, I hate him by extension.

Sure, I may not have talked to him, but would he really spend his time on a loser like me? Don't try and boost my self-esteem; I'm a loser, I'm aware that I'm a loser, and I'm proud to be a loser.

I can't help but remember my hatred for him as I enter our school's library with a bag full of project supplies, prepared to work on the project with said unbearable person. Stupid Ms. Levine, picking our partners for us. There's a reason why the smart kids always choose to work with each other; so we aren't stuck with people like Jason.

He smiles at me as I sit down at the table across from him. "Hey, Margaret. Wanna just jump right in?

I nod, not saying anything. I've made it my mission to not say a word to him unless it's about the project. I pull out the worksheet as Jason logs on to the teacher's website, though he looks a little nervous about it. What's so nerve-wracking about going on the internet?

I ignore it and start jotting down what I can remember about the topic; granted, it isn't much. But, honestly, it's better than looking up what I already know.

As I'm writing, I notice Jason giving me an odd look through those glasses that really don't seem to suit him at all. Jocks don't wear glasses.

"You know all of that off the top of your head?" he marvels with seemingly genuine interest, blue eyes widening as I write more and more down about the topic. I give him a glare, trying to send some sort of mental signal to him to get him to go back to doing research, but he doesn't seem to notice, watching as my hand drags the pencil across the paper.

I shrug. "Doesn't everyone if they pay attention in class?"

He ignores what was a pretty obvious jab at the fact that he tends to just sort of stare off in space during class and shrugs. "How in Hades are you supposed to pay attention to Ms. Levine, though? She just sort of talks, and talks..."

Before I realize it, I crack a smile. "And never actually discusses the topic for more than five minutes?"

Jason laughs. "Yeah, exactly!"

I laugh for a second, too, before I realize that I'm socializing with Jason Grace. I wipe the smile off of my face and go back to writing. "I mean, I do my homework, too. So I stay ahead."

He nods, and an awkward silence falls between us. I don't really mind. It's not like I want to talk to him.

Pretty soon, I notice that he hasn't even turned on his computer, and he's just sort of sitting there, fingers tapping against the table. I glare at him again, but he still doesn't seem to care.

""Didn't I ask you to go on the computer and research?"

Jason shrugs again, and I realize just how little of a shit he could really give about this whole thing. "Dyslexic. Can't really read that tiny font on the computer."

"I try to think of a clever retort, but nothing comes to mind, especially because I'm pretty sure he's being honest. I've seen a grade or two of his; Dyslexia would explain it all.

He looks over at my paper again and frowns, squinting. "I dunno if I'm reading this right, but I think that date is wrong." He points to a number on the paper, and as I look at it, I realize that the date is, in fact, wrong by a couple hundred years. How did I mess that up?

I erase and fix the mistake quickly, embarrassed even though I probably shouldn't be. "O-oh... yeah. Missed that..."

I'm filled with a sudden anger, probably at being corrected by Jason Fucking Grace. There's no real reason for it, and I know that, but that doesn't really stop the anger. "But in the future, I don't need to be corrected by some jock."

He frowns, but the comment doesn't seem to be getting to him. God, what affects this guy? "I don't play sports, so I dunno why you'd call me a jock."

I pause, confused. Jason doesn't play sports? But how? He's the perfect type for it, and being such a stereotype, he'd have to play a sport, right...?

Unless.../span/p

Was I wrong about him?

I give Jason a second look, glancing up from the paper. Yes, he's extremely well-built, and yes, he looks like he belongs on the football team. But why is he so mature?

I return my attention to the project, sliding the paper over to Jason. "You hold that. I'll start the presentation on the computer."

I don't look back, but he probably shrugs again. I don't want to notice something else about him that I got wrong... I totally misjudged him.

I can't write Jason for shit without Piper there to back him up :) :) :) :)

And this chapter is short, too... Ugh, I'm so sorry, guys. I don't update in a month and then I give you... this. But oh, well, I have to write something.

The musical this year is the Wizard of Oz (great show for a high school, I know). And I'm a munchkin. *sigh* It's more fun and requires more work than it sounds.

Someone get Merry Old Land of Oz out of my head. Please.

QoTD: Favorite book that isn't necessarily popular?

Megan's Answer: Red Queen, by Victoria Aveyard. IT'S SO GOOD AND THERE'S A SEQUEL COMING OUT THIS YEAR AFHAKDFLHAJKLSFH

Yours in demigoddishness,

Megan, AKA We're All Okay