So remember when Gina said "Nothing has to change?"
Well things changed.
She and Ricky haven't spoken more than three words to each other in weeks. Literally. The day after her untimely confession, they saw each other in the hallway and gave their patented awkward smiles along with muttered "heys" and shifting eyes. After that, it was nothing.
But maybe this is for the best. Gina hasn't thought about Ricky in days.
Hours.
She's not thinking about him now. Wait no… now she's thinking about not thinking about him. Shit.
This situation is taking more of a toll on her than most might realize. Her hair has lost it's natural bounce and fervor, and she can't even bring herself to do anything about it. This is rock bottom.
Thank god she has Ashlyn. She has been more than supportive of Gina these past few weeks, making Gina's initial hesitance in confiding in her null. Gina never really had a "person". Someone she could tell about her boy troubles and count on to not judge her too harshly. Someone she could trust to not disclose her questionable celebrity crushes (although Ashlyn will never let her live down her infatuation with Borat). It's hard to form best friendships when you're a nomadic loner.
But speaking of Ashlyn...
"Wake up, bitch."
WHOMP
THUD
One thing Gina's learned while living with the Caswells, is that Ashlyn is pretty grumpy in the mornings… and violent.
"Well if there's one thing I love more than a steaming cup of hot coffee to start off my day, it's a pillow to the face." Gina wistfully rolls over in her new spot on the floor. Remind her to never commence a pillow fight with Ashlyn.
"Don't be a smart ass. I'm not showing up late to school two days in a row because you can't pick yourself up out of your teenage drama queen fit of boy depression. You've already ruined my perfect attendance."
"...Meanie."
"I'm sorry babe. You know I love you, but a boy is not worth all of this. I mean... look at your hair. It's lost its usual bounce and fervor."
Oh god. People are starting to notice.
"It's not just Ricky," Gina lies, "I just... School lunch makes me break-out and I have a pimple growing on my chin and I feel ugly and I-"
"Okay come on. Get up." She attempts to pull Gina up from her spot on the floor.
Gina throws all her body weight down, unmoving. She underestimates Ashlyn's strength.
With the brawn of a thousand ginger goddesses, she yanks Gina up onto her feet and into the second floor bathroom. The next thirty minutes are a flurry of clothes, hair spray, and Ashlyn's focused face.
They make it to school with 5 minutes left to spare, but Gina doesn't care about that. Her focus is on the curly haired boy standing at the locker across from hers. Shit. She forgot he and Big Red meet at Big Red's locker every morning to exchange homework.
She needs her dance shoes out of her locker. This is bad. Maybe if she Trojan Horsed in a group of footballers, she could make it to her locker unnoticed. Yeah. She can do that. She just has to think stealthy. She just needs to-
Nope.
Nevermind.
Fuck it.
She'll have to go to gym in her beat up Converses.
Gina hates gym. Not because she can't do it. She has a natural prowess for the art of dance, not to mention her impeccable stamina and upper body strength.
No, she's amazing.
She can do gym.
In all honesty, she's just above it. What does this wrinkly, balding old fart with a whistle get out of watching kids throw balls at each other's heads? ...
So she plays up her period cramps and makes her exit.
It's as she's wandering through the empty halls of East High, that she sees them.
Everyone's favorite power couple.
Or ex power couple.
Before she can convince herself that eavesdropping is totally wrong and completely goes against her moral code, she runs and ducks behind a nearby row of lockers.
"I'm sorry, it's just that… I miss you, Nini," Ricky breathes.
"I know. And I miss you too, but us breaking up… it was for the best. I'm sorry." She said it with such finality.
While a darker side of Gina - Gina 1.0 - has been wishing for this moment since that night at the homecoming dance, the new Gina kind of feels bad for Ricky. She actually feels really bad. It's times like these when she wishes they had just stayed friends. Friends who helped each other through tough breakups. Gina cursed herself for getting stupid feelings involved.
"Okay," she hears him say. "Just know that I love you and that will never change."
"I love you too Ricky."
Gina doesn't hear anything after that because she's already past the school doors and down the steps.
"Breathe Gina. Fuck," She tells herself.
She can't breathe and her heart's racing and it's what she imagined dying might feel like.
All he said was "I love you," why is she freaking out?
Who is she kidding? She knows why she's freaking out.
She could never be the amazingly talented and beautiful Nini Salazar Roberts. She's just the unlikeable transfer kid with the icy queen bitch exterior. She's forgettable.
At her last six schools, she was okay with being an unrecognizable cog in the system. She preferred it. If she doesn't make connections, it won't hurt when she ultimately leaves again.
East High took her by complete surprise. She didn't know what she was getting herself into. Fast forward a couple months later and she has a best friend that she's living with, a reputation for being something other than the intimidating new transfer kid, and even relationship drama.
Granted, the "relationship drama" is actually pretty one sided and umm... pathetic.
Sometimes she thinks about that night at the dance. The way he looked at her like she was the only person in the world that mattered. Like his days started and ended with Gina Porter. It warms her up inside… for a while.
Then she thinks about how he looks at Nini. There's no comparison. In his eyes, Nini is his world.
Gina just needs to come to terms with this.
And move on.
Great. Now she has a raging headache. She really has to stop doing her hair in tight dancer buns.
She's walking home, lost in thoughts of affordable hair care products, Balding Jojo Siwa conspiracy theory videos and, of course, Ricky Bowen, when a flash of blue crosses her eyesight.
This is accompanied by a loud horn and a screaming man's voice. The sensory overload is too much and she feels like she might die, for the second time that day.
The last thing she remembers before her vision blacks out, is the feeling of a strong pair of arms holding her up. And the smell of Watermelon Starburst. Yum.
Someone's waving a hand in her face. Why is someone waving a hand in her face? What the hell is going on and who the fuck has Starbursts?
"Oh, thank God. You're awake."
The voice belongs to a boy who looks like he's about her age. He's tall with brown, coiffed hair, a mouth that looks like he'd have a great a smile, if he was smiling, and eyes that remind her of a puppy. He's kind of cute. A cute puppy dog boy with a potentially great smile.
"Yeah…" She sits up a little bit and realizes that she's relocated to a park bench. She's guessing she has Puppy Boy to thank for this.
"Do you have Starbursts?" She blurts out, not thinking clearly yet.
He finally smiles. Yup. It's golden.
"Uhh no. I can get you some, if you want?"
"No! No, I mean… No it's fine. It's just that you smell like Watermelon Starburst… it's my favorite flavor." She didn't have to add that last part. That was an overshare.
He laughs. It's almost better than his smile.
"Well, thank you for the extra stroke to my already inflated ego," he smirks. "What's your name?"
"Gina."
He holds out his hand.
She takes it.
Reluctantly.
Stranger Danger still stands. Even if the stranger could play the boy next door in a John Green movie adaptation.
"Well given the circumstances, it's been pretty nice meeting you Gina. I'm Jack."
Right, the circumstances.
"Umm, Jack? What exactly happened before I blacked out?"
"Oh I'm sorry, I take it you're pretty confused."
She gives him a look that says "No shit… respectfully."
"Okay so, I'm skipping school - as one does when they're trying to avoid a crazy ex and a Physics test - when I see you almost get hit by a car. Which, by the way, wasn't your fault. Some dipshit in an electric blue 2006 Honda Civic," he says it with barely masked disgust, "completely speeds past the stop sign. I don't know why I had to specify what type of car it was, it just really set me off. Like.. I know a mother fucker with a 2006 Honda Civic didn't just-"
Her obvious confusion stops him in his tracks.
He looks embarrassed.
Okay so Jack has an absurd hatred for turn of the 21st century compact mom cars.
For some reason, she likes him even more now?
She's smiling.
He's smiling back.
"Anyway, you looked like you were gonna faint so I ran to catch you before you hit the pavement, carried you to this bench, and now we're here."
"Wow I- I don't know what to say. Tha-"
"How about you thank me by giving me your number and letting me buy you a pack of Starbursts?"
Oh?
Did he just-
"How about I give you my number because you saved me from possible brain injuries, and you buy me a pack of Starbursts because you think I'm cute?" She smirks, feeling all of a sudden very confident. She blames the fainting.
"Deal."
She thanks the fainting.
Later that night, in the middle of her skincare routine, Gina gets a text from "Puppy Boy".
Puppy Boy (8:24pm): i hereby declare Starbursts as our official "thing"
Me (8:26): lol shut up. we don't have a "thing". we just met.
Puppy Boy (8:27): what does that have to do with anything?
She doesn't reply. Just rolls her eyes playfully and finishes with her unscented moisturizer.
It's right as she's tucking herself in for bed, that she gets another ding on her phone.
Puppy Boy (9:15): okay fine. we don't have a "thing".. but i get to call you Starburst occasionally. that's the deal. take it or leave it babe.
Me (9:16): deal. now leave me alone, i'm going to sleep.
Puppy Boy (9:16): yay! good night starburst. sweet dreams. lol
He even has a knack for shitty puns.
Wow.