Next stop: Phoebe's house. Maybe if Gerald jumps out of the car I can just ask Arnold to see his phone. I could say I needed to get a number off it or something. He wouldn't suspect a thing. Gerald on the other hand was wise to my schemes. For instance, after my affections for the football-head became clear, he figured out the pink book they found had been mine. Oh how he tortured me over that!

We pull up to Phoebe's house. Only Gerald did not get out of the car, rather he just honked his horn like he did for me.

"Jeez, Geraldo, why don't you start calling her bro while you're at it"

"Hey, my Phoebe's an independent lady, she doesn't need-"

He stops short upon seeing Phoebe stumble out the front door. First day of school and she already has too many books in hand. Gerald rushes out to help her. I lean forward, over the back of Arnold's seat. He's reading something in his binder. Now's my chance, all I have to do is reach over and grab it-

"So, I read your poem," he says, completely catching me off guard.

"P-poem?!" I sputter, jumping up, banging my head against the roof then falling backwards.

"You ok?" he asks, stifling a laugh.

"What poem?!"

How could he? Why is he so calm about it? Shouldn't he be terrified? How. Could. HE?! My emotions ricochet back and forth.

"Mr. Simmons included one of your poems on the syllabus," Arnold replies. "I mean he doesn't name you, but I recognized it."

Oh.

"You're still taking Elizabethan Poetry, right?" he asks.

"S'pose so," I shrug, dazed.

"I mean it sounds like Mr. Simmons is teaching it specifically for you."

Yes, Mr. Simmons, our fourth grade teacher, has moved up to high school. He taught English at first, but this year he'd also be teaching poetry. As a matter of fact, our school didn't offer any poetry classes until this year. Mr. Simmons used one of my poems to convince the school board to broaden our English department and offer the class. I'm that awesome.

I grin, accepting Arnold's compliment.

"Yes, he is."

Gerald opens the door for Phoebe, and she takes a seat next to me. I can barely see her over the pile of books.

"Taking it easy this semester, huh?" I say sarcastically.

Judging by the titles, I'd say Phoebe and I do not have any classes together this year. As we drive off, I pull out my schedule from my front pocket.

"Who has History first period?" I ask.

Nothing.

"Ok, Bio second? Pre-Calc third?"

Nothing.

"Criminy, please tell me someone has A Lunch?"

Arnold and Gerald both raise a hand. Thank GOD. I lean over Phoebe's massive pile of books.

"I'm an aide for Ms. George during lunch," Phoebe says. "But I should be able to join you guys every now and then."

"Suit yourself," I scoff.

Ms George is our school's AP coordinator. It's just like Phoebe to take on another responsibility for another credit she doesn't need.

We get to school ten minutes before the bell. Gerald and Phoebe go their own way, leaving me alone with Arnold.

"What's your first class Footballhead?"

"Pre-Calc," he says, nodding in the opposite direction of my class. "Then Bio, then History."

I pout slightly.

"Are you avoiding me?" I tease, grabbing him by his collar.

He cocks a brow and grabs my elbow. The bell rings.

"Ok, see you at lunch," I say curtly, pushing him away.

I walk away, but quickly turn around to throw him a smile. He catches it just before he turn away. I'm rewarded with a slight eye roll and smirk.

Oh, criminy, this is going to be the longest day.

***I know it's been awhile since my last update! I just haven't been in the mood.. I'm more of a painter than a writer. If any of you are in the FB group, maybe you've seen some of my paintings?

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This is what I've been doing in my spare time, ha. But I promise to keep this story going! :)***