"I can't believe that you are making me ride with you to the end of our street. Why can't I just walk to the bus-stop?"
"You can never know what kind of creeps are roaming the streets at this hour."
"Mom, most of the creeps are asleep at this hour."
My mom's insistence on driving me to the bus-stop was driving me crazy already. I knew that she cared for me immensely, but this was almost too much. There had to be at least six more kids that rode my bus that lived on our street.
"Just get into the car. Don't complain."
My mom grabbed her keys, and ushered me into our family mini-van. As we pulled up to the bus-stop, there was only one guy standing there. He turned around, and with the realization of who it was, my face turned five shades of red deeper.
It was him. The kid who lived across the street. Oh. My. Gosh. Was he cute or what?
I glanced over at my mom, who was adjusting the radio station.
"I'm going to get out," I warned her.
"Alright, have a good day."
As if on cue, the bus turned the corner as I stepped onto the pavement. Figures, I thought to myself. Could we not just have some small talk?
However, as I boarded the bus first, my luck began to change. You see, there was only one seat left. I dropped my stuff in the seat, and sat down.
"Is this seat taken?" he asked, and my heart began to beat a thousand times faster.
I moved my backpack silently as he took the seat next to me.
"Don't you live across the street from me?" he casually asked me.
"Yes," I not-so-casually choked out. "I'm Allie Davidson."
"I'm Cory Hunter."
I slumped down in my seat. How was I ever going to get a guy to like me when I couldn't even use my blatant wit and sarcasm properly?
I decided the best approach would be the act aloof...like I didn't really care. I just would not talk to him.
However, the bus driver turned the radio up, and almost subconsciously, I started humming to some random song that I didn't even like.
"Do you like this song?" he asked, and I was humiliatingly notified of my so-called singing.
I clutched my throat in another stupid gesture.
"It's okay. I thought it was cute," Cory replied.
HE SAID HE THOUGHT IT WAS CUTE! I just needed a moment to take it all in.
"My girlfriend does the same thing. The other day she accidently started singing Everlasting Love, Jimmy Fallon Style in the car."
My heart fell. He had a girlfriend?
"You have a girlfriend? Where does she go to school?" I managed to sputter out.
"She's a senior at Hilridge. Aren't you on the dance team? You might know her. Her name is Lindsay. Lindsay Wells."
Perfect. The one senior girl that I managed to look up to was dating the guy that I liked.
"Yeah, she's the captain," I replied rather dejectedly.
I pressed my forehead against the window, and came to the awful realization that we were not even out of the neighborhood yet. Maybe my best move now would be to make polite conversation.
"Ummmm, so, where did you move from?" I asked, trying to form some small talk. "How do you know Lindsay if you just moved here?"
I had better adjust my tone. I sounded just a bit defensive.
"It's a long story. I was actually born in Hilridge," he said, folding and unfolding his hands on his lap. "We moved all over the place in my childhood."
"That's cool. I'm a Hilridge lifer."
He looked at me with a bemused look on his face. Great going, Allie, way to make yourself look like a complete loser.
"I mean that I have lived here my entire life," I quickly clarified.
"I know what you meant," he replied. "Did you go to Hilridge Elementary School? I think I recognize you from when I was in first grade."
Oh no. When people say they recognized me from elementary school, that only meant one thing. They remembered "that girl who wore tutus to school."
You see, when I was in kindergarden, I had just started ballet along with the rest of the girls in my class. Except I was already hardcore into it then. Or at least I thought I was. I was so obsessed that I started wearing tutus to school, and unfortunately, my mom didn't stop me. But, luckily for me, a lot of people don't seem to remember my past error in judgement. Except for now, of course...Cory would.
"You went to Hilridge Elementary?" I asked casually, trying to draw the focus away from me a bit.
"Yeah, I moved to London in the second grade," he replied quickly. "Weren't you-"
As he began his question, I braced myself for the inevitability of the tutu.
"-in Mrs. Brown's class?" he asked as I let out a silent sigh of relief. "Our class did that play together, right?"
"Oh, yeah," I said, slightly remembering. "The Nutcracker."
"And you were like, Clara, or something, because you always wore that tutu."
Ah yes. There it was. My tutu-filled past was laid out in the open, exposed for both of us to see.
"I remember," I replied, quietly, looking down at my feet. "You said that you moved to London. Where else did you live?"
"Paris, Rome, Casablanca...you know, following wherever my mom's army dad was stationed."
"Isn't Casablanca a movie?" I asked.
"It's actually a city in Morocco," he replied. "My favorite place was South Africa, where we just came from."
Great. So now, he not only thought that I was a past-tutu-wearing freak, but a ditz as well.
"Are you in Hilridge to stay now?" I asked, trying to resemble an intelligent person.
"Yeah," he replied, looking down at his hands. "My grandfather just died of a heart attack, so my parents wanted to settle nearby where they went to graduate school at Berkely."
"Are they from here?" I asked, surprisingly not afraid of asking questions after his confession.
"Near Philadelphia, actually."
As all good things must come to a close, so did our conversation as the bus pulled into the school parking lot. When the bus driver pulled the lever to open the door, Cory pulled on his backpack and turned to me.
"It was nice talking to you," he said. "Really...it was."
Okay, so it wasn't "I think you're hot, so I'm going to leave my senior girlfriend, who by the way is perfect, so that I can date you." But it was a start.
"I'll see you around," I managed to say while still sounding nonchalant, and not over-eager.
He gave me his great smile as he started down the steps. And, in accordance with fate, Lindsay was standing right there to greet him.
"Oh my gosh, Cory. You don't have to ride the bus," she said, in between kissing. "I'll totally give you a ride."
"That's alright," he replied, pulling back his arm to around her waist. "I got to talk to Allie here."
Oh right, I'm still standing here, gawking like a moron.
"Hi Allie!" Lindsay exclaimed, wrapping me into a giant best friend hug. "I'm so excited that you got to meet Cory!"
How can I hate someone that is so nice? Maybe hate is a strong word.
"She lives across the street from me," Cory explained as our group walked into the school.
"I have to go," I stammered like a fool. "See you guys later."
"See you at practice!" Lindsay said.
"And I'll see you on the bus," Cory added, before he and Lindsay started their own private conversation.
I sighed quietly as I walked away, but quickly brightened as I saw Shana standing alone at her locker.
"Shana, I totally just had a complete conversation with neighbor boy," I said quietly, but yet very enthusiastically, to her.
"That's nice," Shana said happily, but we were such good friends that I knew something was wrong.
"What happened?"
"Nothing," Shana replied, and then I was positive. When a true problem came, Shana dropped her dramatics and tried to soldier on.
"What happened?" I repeated, and her eyes welled up with tears.
"Brynn turned, Allie, she is friends with Amber now," she said, sadly, wiping at her eyes. "I'm such a fool, crying at school."
"Hey, that rhymed," I said, trying to cheer her up. "How did this whole thing happen?"
"She yelled at me yesterday, for trying to steal Colin."
I stomped my foot on the ground.
"That's ridiculous," I exclaimed, truly enraged. "That never was even thought of."
"I know," she said, wiping her cheeks off with her sleeve. "But I know what happened."
"Yesterday, in Bio, I was talking to Simon Alexander, and he told me that he thought that the whole thing with Brynn-Colin-Amber was an elaborate setup or something. So I confronted Amber, so I think that she lied to Brynn."
After she finished her story, I glanced to the lunchroom. Madison and Jay were sitting at "our table" with Miranda and Lizzie, who were all sneaking glances at Amber, Brynn, Colin, and Gordo's table.
"Miranda must have told them. I ran into her and her sister after it happened."
"I can't believe this," I exclaimed. I really couldn't.
Madison's POV
After leaving Lizzie and Miranda, who were soon joined by Allie and Shana, Jay and I slowly walked out of the cafeteria, arm in arm.
"I just can't believe that she would do something like that," I said to him, still in disbelief.
"Can we just stop talking about it?" Jay asked me, in an impatient voice. "The whole thing is stupid."
I gave him my meanest look.
"It's just that, I think, that we have grown past that group," he explained. "Don't hurt me, but don't you think their problems are a little...petty?"
"Yeah, but their my friends, so I have to put up with their faults...right?" I tried to explain. "I mean...I don't know."
"Madison," he said, turning so we could face each other. He started to walk backwards in front of me. "You are the strongest, most independent, individual girl I know...I just don't want you to be brought down by the drama of your friends."
I put my hands on his waist.
"Jay, I appreciate your comments, and I agree. We've been through too much to let this get to us."
"Finally, you see my point," he exclaimed, throwing his hands up into the air. "We better get to first hour."
"Bye," I said, grabbing onto his hand.
He squeezed my hand back, and smiled as we went our seperate ways to class.
As I filed into my first hour, followed by Miranda, who smiled to me as she sat down into the seat next to me.
"I hate this crap so much," she said, as our class was instructed to pull out our homework.
Brynn breezed into the room, two minutes after the bell rang. She claimed she was lost, but by her tousled hair and flushed face, I knew otherwise.
"You have no idea," I whispered to Miranda, handing my homework into the teacher. "I hate the whole piece of crap that is school."