Hey all. First, thanks for the reviews. Second, I know, it's been forever since I've updated anything. I'm sooooooo sorry!!!! Third, Thanks for still reading. Fourth, some text is from the book, obviously this belongs to Meg, not me.

Ok, chapter two of 1800 Through Rob's Eyes:

Rob's POV:

I got to work only a little soaked. Bits of hail worked their way in between my shirt and skin, and I shook it out before I started to work on the nearest car. A few hours later, Gary closed the place down and I rode home, idling a little at the top of Mastriani's street. Get over yourself, Rob. There's no way she's interested.

The next day went by in a blur. For once, I couldn't wait to get to detention. This was supposed to be my last day, but in first period I'd ensured another week or so, just by sitting there mostly, and smarting off to the teacher. I sat down in my usual spot and observed the rest of the JDs. I glanced down to where Mastriani usually sat, and didn't see her. There's no way she could be done with detention- The girl's stuck in the auditorium until the end of the year. She's too smart to be skipping out, but you never know.

I started reading until I saw her start walking towards the last row of seats- coincidently, the row I sat in. Some of the guys were being jerks, but Mastriani took care of them with kicks to the shins. I grabbed my leather jacket- the one and only thing my father ever gave me that was worth a damn- and got up as Mastriani sat down between me and Wendell. I know I was staring as she rearranged her stuff, but I didn't care.

Say something witty! I thought.

"Welcome to hell." I said. Not the best, but pretty good. And it earned me a smile.

I saw Wylie, this guy on my other side, grab his crotch when Jess smiled. That just pisses me off, when guys are like that. I turned and said, "You're dead, Wylie."

Before I could make good on that promise, Miss Clemmings told us to be quiet, or extra detention. I really wouldn't mind extra, but I shut up anyway.

Jess pulled out a notebook and math book while I pretended to watch the play rehearsal. Just say something, I thought. Or don't say it, write it.

I took Mastriani's notebook andpenfrom her before she had time to really notice. I glanced over her geometry homework and flipped to a clean page.

So, did you get caught in the rain yesterday? I wrote, and passed it to her.

For a moment, Jess looked like she didn't know if she should write back or not. She looked at Miss Clemmings, who was watching some chick in a trash can, and then wrote back. Yes.

It may not have been much, but it still made something weird happen to me.

I wrote back: Told you so. Why don't you ditch the fat girl and come for a ride with me after this? Then passed it to her, watching her reaction.

Shock and a little anger passed over her face as Mastriani wrote furiously. Are you mentally impaired or something? That fat girl happens to be my best friend.

Great, Rob. You are about to lose her before you get her. Jesus, sorry. I had no idea you were so sensitive. I wrote. Let me rephrase. Why do you tell your gravitationally challenged friend to take a hike, and come for a ride with me after this? I passed her the book and grinned. A grin she missed.

It's Friday night, you loser. Ouch! What do you think, I don't already have plans? I happen to have a boyfriend, you know. I read carefully. Something in her eyes told me Mastriani didn't have a boyfriend, but I faked it. To get her back, I wrote:

Yeah? Well, I bet your boyfriend isn't rebuilding a '64 Harley in his barn.

Take that!

I saw the slightest shake in Jess's fingers as she wrote back. My boyfriend doesn't have a barn. His dad is a lawyer.

I bit back a laugh. If she was going to lie, she would make it good. So? Dump him. Come for a ride.

As I was passing the notebook back to Mastriani, I heard Wendell whisper, "Wylie. Wylie?" and saw him lean over Jess.

On my other side, Wylie went, "Suck on this, Wendell." and leaned over me.

Jess had had enough, I guess. "Both of you, shut the hell up before Clemmings looks over here." She hissed. Probably didn't want to get in trouble.

Wendell threw this paper football thing he'd been working on at Wylie, and before it could hit, I reached out and grabbed it. Ew, Gross, spit! I thought, dropping the wet paper. That's sick. Even as a guy (who's done some pretty gross stuff) that's sick.

I put on my most dangerous-sounding voice and said, "You heard the lady. Knock it off."

Jess wrote back, Ok. One condition.

No conditions. I wrote back, underlining it heavily.

Mastriani started writing big block letters. Guess she wanted me to get the point. Then I can't go.

I sighed, threw her an annoyed look, and wrote back, All right. What?

An hour later, we were headed to Paoli.