Chapter 4
Officially the weirdest English lesson ever. That's what I think to myself as I pack my bag and leave the classroom. All I know is that 2 weeks ago Lucas Scott would have never given me a second glance and now he's making small talk with me in English. Well you can keep those charming smiles and mysterious eyes Mr Bigshot cos this Haley James couldn't care less what you do….ok well maybe I do. A little bit.
I decide to push him to the back of my mind and I make my way to the cafeteria for lunch.
Our school cafeteria is much like any other school cafeteria. It is bland and boring and serves gross food and like everything else in high school where you sit is defined by who you are and what clique you belong to.
Luc…I mean…the "popular" crowd sit at the table smack bang in the middle of the cafeteria. It is the single table on which none of the seats wobble, but more importantly it is situated where everyone can see it. Probably so us lowly peasants can watch them in awe and admiration at the holy table of popularity and wonder what it would be like to sit there. I suppose Brooke Davis and her minions expect everyone to think it a privilege to even think about eating the crumbs from their table.
The sad thing is that there's a whole heap of people who actually do think like that. My friend Charley calls them the Spice Girls. Y'know- as in "wannabes"? Never mind. It's a lame joke. But he thinks it's funny. And it's kinda true.
One of these girls is called Melissa Newman and she idolises Peyton Sawyer- I swear it's crazy. She dyed her hair blonde and gets it permed every 6 months. She wears black almost every day and has a leather jacket almost exactly the same as Peytons. She carries around a sketchbook and tries out for the cheer squad every year. I know I said I'm not one for gossip but this kind of thing is just about impossible to ignore.
The Spice Girls sit as close as they can get to the middle table. They are separated from it though, by the groups considered cooler than them. It's so weird. The ultimate cool group (Brooke, Lucas, Peyton, Jake Jaglekski etc) sit in the middle and its like the groups immediately next to them are the next rung down on the social ladder. Meaning the other sports teams, the party girls, the ethnic hotties who aren't on the cheer squad, the boys who are quiet but "interestingly cool and mysterious….and hot" Right on the outskirts are the chess club, the loser stoners (as opposed to the cool stoners), the random weirdos no-body talks to and so on. It is pathetic but it is high school.
Me, Charley and Izzy sit in the far left corner of the cafeteria. Surrounded by no-one in particular. Our placing in the cafeteria- just like everyone elses- pretty much sums up who we are and how we are seen. The nomads. The lone rangers. The kids who don't belong to a group. It's ok to be seen talking to them but probably only because anyone who sees you talking to them will forget about it instantly. We are the invisible people. And that's how we like it.
I stand with Izzy in the line, waiting with our ugly yellow trays for whatever "food" we might be fed with today. Izzy is crazy. Crazy in a good way. Crazy in that she changes her name at least once every 3 months. Crazy in that she wears odd socks on purpose, and ties brightly coloured ribbons in her dirty blonde hair, and has theme days, and brings her pet rabbit to school. I know what you're thinking. How can someone as wacky as Izzy be classed as invisible? Yea- I think that to sometimes. But hey! Its high school- you cant explain the unexplainable.
"So why the name change?" I ask glancing at Izzy (before today know as Isa as in Is a star. And before anything else christened by her parents as Isabel.) I also note that today is 60's mod theme day. She's wearing a black and white mini dress, knee high white go go boots (both probably raided from her mothers closet) and huge white framed sun glasses are pushed up onto her head. Big white plastic earring dangle from her ears and her black liquid eyeliner makes her eyes look cat shaped.
"Isa is way too hard for people to remember. Also I realised saying 'I am Isastar' is quite big headed really. And bad grammar to if you think about it. Izzy is far easier for people to remember and its kooky without being to eccentric. This ones a keeper I think."
I smile at her. She certainly keeps my life interesting.
"Hm. The burger…interesting…"
I turn around as this comment seems to be directed at me and my burger. Oh my God. What the hell is up with the world today??
"Excuse me?" I question Lucas Scott as he looks at my burger with a clearly feigned interest.
He looks up as if he's only just realised I'm talking to him.
"Oh- I was just saying your choice of food was interesting. Seeing as the beef seems to…y'know….closely resemble shoe leather."
I furrow my brow at him in what I hope is a sardonic and questioning way.
"Whatever."
Apart from Lucas Scott never giving me a second glance, y'know what else would never have happened two weeks ago? Me getting worked up about Lucas Scott that's what. I can honestly say that one of the things that separates me from most of the rest of the female population of this school is the fact that I have never thought about him. I mean- I knew who he was- in our school you'd have to be blind, deaf and dumb not to. And I'm sure that even if you were blind, deaf and dumb you'd still be unable to avoid knowing about him somehow. I knew who he was but that's where it stopped…..
What am I talking about?? That's still where it stops. A few words and a smile is not going to turn me into a puddle of mush. No- I choose resistance! I refuse to be reduced to a salivating teeny bopping Lucas lover. Haley James is bigger than that.
Before you guys cruise off into the distance- tell me about banners- how do I go about making a nice pretty banner for my story?? Something to entice readers…lol.