A/N: Hey guys, so this is sort of an awkward chapter, cause Cammie is just starting to meet everyone and I wanted to make sure all the main characters were introduced. Also sorry it took so long to update, I was kind of nervous that you wouldn't like it, but mainly I was just really lazy. By the way, thanks so much for your reviews! I read and loved them all! Keep on writing them. So tell me what you think, and REVIEW!
The rest of the week passed by so fast, it was Sunday night before I could properly prepare myself. Mom and I had spent the whole week incredibly busy—her going to Roseville high to get ready for school, and me unpacking until our house was almost completely done, with the exception of a few boxes I was too lazy to look at. Mom had long since disappeared into her study to do the 'principle-y' things she needed to finish before school the next day.
That night when I was in bed, I was restless. It felt like I'd been in bed for hours and I wasn't even the least bit tired. I sat up and rubbed my face with my hands.
After taking some deep breaths (Aunt Abby said it really helped nerves), I got out of bed and made my way to the window of my room, lifting up the shades and the blinds until the moonlight shone through the glass. I threw open the window. The cool September air hit my skin, and it felt amazing.
I looked up, admiring the stars, because back in New York you can't really see them very well. Light pollution and all that. I glanced back at the clock on my nightstand and let out a squeal of shock. I really needed to get to sleep. I slammed the window shut, leaving the blinds up so that the moonlight illuminated my floor, and jumped in my bed, closing my eyes and praying for fast sleep.
At six in the morning the next day, my blaring alarm was not my friend. I groaned into my pillow, repeating my exact same routine from the first morning I'd been in Roseville. I was almost drifting back to sleep before I realized: today would be my first day at Roseville High.
I shot out of bed, throwing my blanket onto the floor and leaping into my bathroom in one fluid motion. Relax Cammie, I instructed myself, jamming my toothbrush into my mouth and running the shower at the same time. It's just a normal day. But as I thought back to all the movies I'd seen where high school looked anything but normal, I felt a lurch in my stomach.
I stepped into the shower, letting the water rinse away my sleep. First day of public school…first day of public school…I scrubbed at my hair with intensity as if washing away all the nervous thoughts from my head. I could do this. I could totally do this…right? When I turned off my water, feeling well scrubbed, clean and smelling like my favorite body wash, I suddenly knew that I could so not do this. I was going to screw my first day way up.
I wrapped my wet hair in a towel, and then my body before stepping out of the steaming bathroom and into my room again. The smell of breakfast wafted up to me from downstairs and for once it didn't smell burnt. I took a deep breath. "You ready, Cam?" I muttered to myself.
My clothes were lying out in front of me. They were simple, they were warm, and they were (I hope) stylish enough for the junior class to accept. I hurried into them and left my hair in the towel. Make-up. Make-up was what I needed. I shuffled through one of the few boxes that were still unpacked in the corner of my bedroom and pulled out my make-up bag. I didn't usually use it, but I figured my first day should require a little dressing up. First impressions and all that stupid, nerve wracking stuff.
I started back towards my bathroom, with a mascara wand glued to one eyelash and a handful of cosmetics in the other. As I passed by my window, the one over looking the house next door, I saw a flash of movement. I took a slow step back, turning my head, so that me, my giant towel turban, and mascara wand were all staring through my window—and into the window of the house next door. Across gap between the two houses, mirroring my cautious step backwards and curious expression, was Zach, whose interested look quickly transformed into a smirk.
Neither of us said anything. Me, because I was too embarrassed to speak, and him, probably because he was laughing at me. He was already dressed, with wet hair and his signature cocky grin. His eyes traveled up to my head, where my towel turban listed dangerously to the side and his eyebrow slid up his forehead. I dropped both my make-up and turban onto the floor, shot Zach a look, and slammed my blinds onto the window. I definitely regretted not doing that last night. Since when did he leave the window open anyway? I'd lived here a full week and never seen into the other house.
What an awesome way to start the morning. I could feel my cheeks flaming and I knew that no amount of coffee, and therapy could erase the embarrassment from my mind. I scooped all my stuff off the floor and made my way back into the bathroom. There was still so much to do…straighten, eyeline, volumize…all these things that Teen Vogue assured me would make my first day of school go great, and I had so little time. Fifteen minutes to be exact.
I managed to finish my make-up and half of my hair before Mom called me downstairs. I looked good, hopefully no one would notice one side of my head was straight and the other wasn't. I ran the flat iron through it quickly just to be safe.
"Oh my gosh, you look great!" Mom cried excitedly when I landed on the last step of the stairs, backpack in hand. She was holding her purse, a stack of papers, and a plate of unscorched pancakes. She extended me the plate and wiped her hands on a towel instead of her pristine slacks. "How do I look?"
Honestly? She looked fantastic. She looked like something off of a business magazine. It was such a change from the sweatpants and t-shirt look she had been sporting all through summer vacation. But school had started and summer had ended and the principle of Roseville High School had to dress to impress. And she was.
"Definitely a ten."
Mom smiled gratefully and started heading for the door, shouting out behind her. "Let's go, let's go! I have to be there before the students arrive!" She made her way out the front door, heels clacking against the pavement. I rolled my eyes, but followed her anyways.
In the car, I scarfed down my pancakes, thankful that they weren't blackened and smoking. How did Mom manage not to completely ruin these? We pulled out of the driveway and started making our way down the tree-lined street. Mom was babbling the whole ride there, about how there would be a opening football game soon, or how the Roseville Raiders swim team would be great this year. It was so totally obvious she was excited about working here, and even though she was practically talking my ear off, I didn't stop her.
I set my empty plate in the backseat and pressed my head to the cool glass of the car window, watching the houses blur by. It was a mucky kind of day, and rain was threatening to spill over from the clouds any moment. As we pulled into the parking lot a few drops splattered across the windshield. There goes my hair…or half my hair I guess.
We parked the car in Mom's reserved spot and started our way up the steps. Roseville was a small high school, which made sense because it was a small town. It was brightly lit and had the first day of school smell when we walked in. I swung my backpack over my shoulder and followed Mom through the foyer. She walked confidently towards her office. Oh yeah, she was definitely going to do great.
"I have to get to work Cam, but you can hang out in here if you like," she told me, dropping the stack of papers on her desk. "I already grabbed your schedule and locker information last week," she said, handing me a packet with my name written across the top.
"Sweet," I said, grabbing it and plopping down in her plush leather roller chair. I pulled it open and checked it out. This meant I actually had to go find my locker and classes now. I stood back up and followed my mother out. "I'm going to go check the school out. Good luck today Mom."
"Good luck to you too kiddo. And please, try not to get into any air conditioning vents. I don't need to pull the principal card to get you out of trouble on the first day."
"Mom!" I groaned at her teasing reference to the time I was wandering around Gallagher and accidentally ended up in the air conditioning vent above the kitchens. No one knew where I was and everyone was in a panic, until I finally got tired and reappeared in my mom's office, covered in black soot and cobwebs. I tended to do that—find old nooks and crannies to hide from people. At Gallagher, I knew about a bajillion secret passageways.
Mom only laughed at me and continued down the hall. I was left by myself in the near empty school.
"Okay. Locker 216. Where are you?" I muttered, scanning the hallways for any sign that I was going in the right direction.
After about 15 minutes of walking in circles, I had located my trig, physics, and history classrooms, but had yet to find my locker. Other students were starting to arrive, and the school was beginning to fill with the cheerful squeals and deep shouts of 'duuuude,' from the guys and girls seeing their friends again after a long summer. I was feeling conspicuous, and really wishing that I didn't have a locker and could just go burrow in my mom's office until the bell rang.
I was just about to give up on finding my locker and on succeeding my first day of high school when I collided head-on with someone who was much taller and much more coordinated than I was.
"Oh my God, I'm sorry!" I yelped, stumbling back and landing on my butt.
Well.
This was it.
The icing on the awkward cake that was my life.
I, Cameron Morgan, had just tripped in the school hallway on my very first day of public school. Worst case scenario had just become real life.
Roseville High-1, Cammie -0.
While I was on the floor, throwing myself a mini-pity party, the person I had run into was extending an arm to help me up. I took it graciously, and came face to face with a girl about my age. She was one of the prettiest people I had ever met, with dark skin and two rows of perfect white teeth that were grinning down at me.
"Are you okay?" She asked. Her voice was heavy with a British accent. "I totally didn't see you there."
"It was definitely my fault, don't worry about it." I adjusted my backpack over my shoulder and tried to look as calm and collected as I wish I'd felt.
I contemplated saying something else like, 'thanks for not leaving me on the floor to die' or 'I like your top' (because I desperately needed something to say, plus her shirt was really cute) but before I could respond the girl interrupted me with, "You're lost aren't you?"
"That obvious?"
"Oh yeah." She laughed, and then added, "Where are you headed to?"
I handed her my pink piece of paper with all my locker information and my class schedule and gestured vaguely around me. "Locker 216, even though after searching for twenty minutes I'm not sure it even exists."
The girl snickered, and turned swiftly on her heel. She motioned me to follow her speedy pace as we pushed past the people crowding the hallway and headed to where I assumed locker 216 was. "I can help you find it," she assured me. Then, glancing down at the paper in her hand and added, "Cameron?"
"Cammie."
"Well Cammie, you were heading in the opposite direction." The girl told me, not thinking twice as she shoved a giant guy in a letter jacket out of her way. He tumbled backward, nearly knocking someone else down before regaining his balance. Man, I didn't not what to be on this girl's bad side. "I'm Bex, by the way."
We hurried up some granite steps, past some already filled classrooms and a couple of bathrooms, before finally stopping at long row of dark green lockers with a halt. Bex took another glance at the crinkled piece of paper in her hands and dialed in my combo with surprising speed. It popped open, with a satisfying, first-day-of-school sounding type of clank.
"Wow, thanks," I grinned swinging my bag into the small metal space and turning gratefully towards Bex. She waved off my apology, leaning casually against the locker.
"No biggie," Bex insisted, as the sound of the first bell echoed through the hallways. She straightened, adjusting her backpack on her shoulders and turning to head back in the direction we came. "It's always a pleasure helping around the principle's daughter."
I froze in my tracks and looked up in horror. It was bad enough getting the teacher's pet treatment, only this was worse. "How do you even know?"
Bex, who glanced over her shoulder as she walked, despite the giant crowd of people having to maneuver their way around her, winked. "Trust me Cammie, everyone knows the principle's daughter."
And as I watched her turn around and disappear into the flood of people all I could think was, "Oh great."
I'd always been pretty weary at the new kids at Gallagher. I mean, I knew they were supposed to be exceptional young women and all that, but hey, a new kid was a new kid, genius or not. I never realized how utterly sucky it is to really be one.
Now, I'm not trying to sound super cliché like every single teenage novel or hit ABC family series, but I'm telling you: it's not easy.
My First Day Statistics
A list by Cammie Morgan:
Number of times I got lost: 15
Number of times I had to correct my teachers to call me Cammie instead of Cameron: 11 (Mrs. Heinburg was really just not getting it)
Number of times I had to confirm that I was in fact Mrs. Morgan's, as in Mrs. Morgan, the principle's daughter: 33
Number times I had seen Bex: 2 (so far she was in two of my classes)
Number of times I had seen Zach: 0
By the time I had walked into lunch, I was exhausted, starving, and in desperate need to some caffeine. And then I saw the cafeteria, and all those feelings disappeared. People, holy crap, so many people. They were everywhere, waiting in lines, throwing food around, sitting at tables. I was beginning to miss the formality of Gallagher meals, where we all sat at long tables and talked in quiet, respectful voices. This was chaos.
I weaved my way through the tables and people, trying to avoid the looks and whispers I got when I walked past everyone. I guess Roseville didn't have too many new students because I was the talk of the cafeteria. Bex was right. Everyone knew the principle's daughter.
The line for real food, good, unhealthy, unnaturally greasy school food was way too long, so I just headed straight for the salad bar, desperate to get something to eat and then hightail it out of there. I probably would have hidden in the bathroom, just to really complete the whole new girl facade, if Bex hadn't waved me over.
She was sitting in the middle table, right in the center of the cafeteria and when I walked up with my bowl of salad, I nearly tripped over a couple of people's feet.
"Hey Cammie," she said, uncrossing her long legs from the seat across from her. I took it, dropping my bowl of salad on the table with a loud sigh.
"This new girl stuff is hard."
The girl sitting to Bex's right looked up from her plate of sushi, that looked way to fancy to come from the school cafeteria and smiled. "Tell me about it." She twirled her chopsticks in her hands casually. "I came here sophomore year, and people were acting like it was a some huge deal. It felt like even the news reporters were talking about it."
"That's because the news reporters were talking about it, Macey." Bex, rolled her eyes. "It's what happens when your dad's the senator." Macey flicked Bex the finger (if she had done that at Gallagher she would have received a week of in lunch detention).
"Where's Lizzie?" Bex asked, ignoring the gesture and leaning back in her seat to look around the cafeteria.
Macey shrugged. "Last time I saw her, she was at—"
"—the library," they finished together. Bex rolled her eyes, albeit amusedly. "Of course she was."
As if on cue, I heard a shuffle behind me and turned around to see a tiny little blond girl huffing towards our table, holding a stack of book almost as big as her. "Sorry guys, I was finishing up a report for Mr. Moskowitz!"
The girl, Liz, I assumed, dropped her sack lunch and books on the table with an excited squeal. "We had the most interesting conversation about interstellar travel! He was explaining all about how Alpha Centuri A is approximately 4.24 light years away, and I asked if human could achieve ninety-nine point eight percent of light speed, accelerating at approximately nineteen point six two meters per second for eight months before traveling at a constant velocity, if we could reach the star about five and a half years, and he said the amount of fuel it would take would be impossible to carry such a distance at that acceleration, so I suggested a perpetual motion machine and—." Suddenly she paused, maybe to take a breath and then seemed to realize I was there. Whatever she was about to say about interstellar travel evaporated on her tongue and instead she replaced it with, "Who's this?" and a big smile.
"Cammie, and if you had stopped babbling for a second you might have noticed her earlier." Macey snickered. Liz stuck her tongue out in response, but didn't hesitate to ask questions.
"You're mom's the principle isn't she?"
"Yeah."
"Do you like it here so far? Like the people, the grounds and stuff?"
I nodded, chewing my most recent bite of salad before I answered. The last thing I needed was to scare away the nicest people I'd met all day with disgusting table manners. And even though I was three states away I could still totally be representing Madame Dabney's etiquette class back at Gallagher by swallowing before I talked. She would be so proud of me.
"The school's really, um, organized." I offered, trying to avoid all synonyms to the word small. "And the people are nice."
"So have you met a lot of people?" Liz pressed.
Macey leaned in a little closer, and I could see she had a diamond nose ring that twinkled in the light as she said, "Any boys?"
For a moment I thought of Zach, but I was seriously doubting he even went here, since it was such a small school and I hadn't even seen him once. So I shook my head. "Nope."
Macey scoffed and leaned back again. "Well that'll change soon enough. If there's one thing Roseville has, it's football," she scrunched her nose in disgust, like the name of the sport even sounded sweaty and dirty, "and boys who play it. And no Bex, not that type of football."
Bex, who had opened her mouth to say something, snapped it shut and let out a huff. "American football," she muttered under her breath.
"Anyway," Macey continued. " Roseville has plenty of football boys, and those are the ones you want to go after—I mean, the other sports have some cute guys, but football is an automatic in to the top of the social ladder." She took a delicate bite of sushi and added, "If you care about that sort of thing."
I hesitated. Did I care about that sort of thing? At Gallagher, we didn't really have any of these cliques and groups and stuff, although we did have groups of friends. I didn't want to be at the top of the social ladder though. That meant being in the spotlight. And I preferred to blend in to the background.
"I'm not really big on popularity," I settled on saying. I took a sip of water, thinking about it, before saying, "Or attention."
Liz and Bex exchanged devilish smiles (which kind of frightened me. The expression was not comforting on Bex, but on Liz's innocent little face it was downright terrifying). Macey grinned and leaned across the table to pinch my cheek. "Oh, Cammie," she sighed. "You and I are going to get along just famously."
The next few periods weren't as lonely, because now I was walking with Bex, Macey, and Liz, who seemed to have taken it upon themselves to be my personal escorts to my next few classes. I had fifth period alone, but my sixth was with Liz. Seventh was the athletic period, which meant Bex was in soccer and I was in cross country. I was pretty thankful that I had at least one person I knew in the last of my classes.
Sixth period rolled along and I waved goodbye to Bex and Macey as they both left to go to whatever class they had. Liz and I started walking towards our sixth period, AP Biology with Mr. Fibbs.
I wracked my brain for something to say, but Liz beat me to it. "What was your old school like?" she asked, and she seemed genuinely curious.
I flushed. "Oh well, it was a private boarding school," I said. "It officially started in seventh grade but I was there all the time because my mom was headmistress."
"Were the classes hard? I always thought about going to a boarding school because it would be challenging, but my parents convinced me to stay here."
I thought about the rigorous courses at Gallagher and smiled. Liz would have fit right in. "Yeah, but I like Roseville. I'm not used to a small town."
Liz laughed as we turned a corner, weaving around the people milling in the hallway. "Yeah, I mean it's a big jump from New York to a town like this. Everyone knows everybody's business here."
"Oh," I grimaced. Liz saw my expression and quickly added, "But it's not always bad, a lot of the times it's fun! Like, everyone goes to the football games, and there's Homecoming, and we have parades, and there's a farmer's market every Thursday, and—"
She got cut off as she bumped into trashcan and almost toppled over. "Oopsie Daisie!"
"Liz, calm down!" I laughed, helping her steady herself. "I'm not going to move away just because people gossip." She turned pink and laughed with me.
We walked into the classroom and I noticed that the class was significantly smaller than my classes before. The teacher, Mr. Fibbs, was a tall lanky looking man with glasses. He made his way toward Liz and me, and almost instantly tripped over a kid's backpack. It reminded me of Liz.
"Ms. Sutton!" He exclaimed, once he had recovered. "Welcome! And who's this?" He pushed up his glasses and studied me.
"I'm Cammie Morgan, sir."
Mr. Fibbs perked up. "Oh Ms. Morgan, welcome. Sit wherever you'd like." He smiled again then went to his desk and started ruffling some papers.
I followed Liz to a seat by the teacher's desk, and sat next to her. The bell rang, signaling the beginning of the period. Mr. Fibbs made his way to the front. "Hello students. I'm your AP Biology teacher, Dr. Fibbs." Oh. "Now, all of you should have picked up a syllabus on the way in—"
The classroom door opened and Dr. Fibbs paused as someone came in. I glanced up from the syllabus (yes, I actually look at it, it can come in handy you know), and felt a surge of… well, something.
Because standing in the doorway, looking a little bit out of breath and a little tousled up, was none other than Zach Goode.
I looked down at my desk. Honestly, I felt a little conflicted, because on one hand, it was nice to know someone else in one of my classes, but on the other hand, that someone else would probably spend the entire year teasing and distracting me until I committed a homicide. Or something. Not to mention that whole situation this morning. I felt my cheeks burn as I thought about it.
I felt someone's gaze on me and I looked up to see Zach grinning at me. I raised an eyebrow at him, and the grin widened.
"Late on the first day, are we Mr. Goode?" Dr. Fibbs asked, though he didn't sound angry.
"Huh?" Zach said. He glanced at Dr. Fibbs and then laughed breezily, adjusting his backpack on his shoulder. "Oh you know how it is, Doc. The coaches were giving a big, beginning-of-school speech."
Dr. Fibbs chuckled and shook his head. "Well, fortunately tardies don't count today. Just make sure it doesn't happen again."
Zach mock saluted and then made his way over to the desks. He stopped at the front of the room, like he was having trouble picking a seat—even though half of them were empty—before finally planting himself in the one next to mine. "Hey there, Gallagher Girl."
I spared him a glance before turning back to Dr. Fibbs, who was animatedly motioning towards what seemed to be a papier-mâché replica of a strand of DNA. "Hey there, Zach."
He leaned back in his chair. "Haven't seen you all day. I was starting to think you'd lied to me and ended up going to Dayton after all."
I couldn't help but snicker, because it sounded a whole lot like what I had been thinking about not seeing him all day. "How do you know I just wasn't avoiding you?"
He put a hand on his heart and winced. "I'm hurt, Gallagher Girl. After all I've done for you?"
I groaned quietly and turned to face him fully. "You really should just let it go."
He smirked. "Never." I turned around to face Dr. Fibbs again, trying not to miss anything he was saying on classroom rules and lab safety. And even though I was hearing what he was saying, I wasn't actually understanding anything, because I was too busy noticing that Zach's green eyes were still trained on me. It was only when I felt them shift that I actually heard Dr. Fibbs say, "…blood everywhere. And that's why you should always wear safety goggles."
"By the way, Gallagher Girl…" It was obvious Zach wasn't going to just let me focus. I looked at him from the corner of my eye. He was staring at Dr. Fibbs, but smiling. "I really liked that towel action this morning. So sexy."
I growled, kicking his shins under the desk. "Asshole!"
He stifled a laugh reached over to rub the spot where my foot had hit him. Fortunately, Dr. Fibbs had just knocked over the papier-mâché DNA and no one was paying attention. Well, almost no one. I looked to my right and saw Liz gaping between me and Zach, looking way more excited than I was comfortable with.
"Cammie!" She whispered/shouted.
"Lizzie!" I mimicked.
"I thought you said you hadn't—" I shot her a quick look and she snapped her mouth shut, though her excitement didn't fade. I knew what she was about to say—she was about to mention my comment to Macey about not meeting any boys. Thank God, she was smart enough to take a hint.
She didn't have a chance to interrogate me the rest of the period, since Dr. Fibbs had us so busy jotting down guide lines for the rest of the year. That also meant, that there was no time for Zach to make any more teasing comments about this morning, something that I'm definitely grateful for.
When the bell rang and Liz and I walked to my locker, I thought I was in the clear, until a manicured hand reached out from behind me and slammed the locker shut. It was so unexpected I nearly dropped my books to the floor. "Holy crap!"
"Sorry, Cammie, but it had to be done." I turned around to see Macey poised with her hands on her hips, looking extremely intimidating. Bex was next to her, and though her hands were in her soccer hoodie's pockets, she was shaking her head in disappointment.
"What'd I do?" I asked nervously.
"You told me you hadn't met any boys, and yet someone else told me that you were getting pretty cozy with one in biology!"
I turned accusingly to Liz, who was pink but determined. "How did you even tell her anything?! You've been next to me this whole time!"
Macey held up her phone. "It's the 21st century, Cam."
I shook my head. "Texting in class… breaking the rules now, Liz?"
"It was an emergency!" she argued, standing tall (which basically meant she came up to just short of my shoulders). "You talked to Zach!"
"He's my neighbor," I said defensively, which made Macey's mouth clamp shut. Her perfectly plucked eyebrow started sliding up her forehead, making her look beyond evil. "Okay," she said finally. "This is not something that we can just discuss passively between passing periods. We need to talk about this." Her blue eyes sparkled. "In length."
What the heck did that mean?
But by now the minute bell had rung, and I had approximately sixty seconds to get changed and head out to the track, where cross county would be meeting, so when Bex pushed me towards the girl's locker room and said, "You're coming home with me tonight." I didn't really have any other choice but to nod.
I tapped on Mom's office door. Through the sliver of doorway that was open, I could see her bent over a stack of papers even bigger than the ones she had earlier in the morning. By now, her bun had come disheveled and strands were framing her tired looking face.
"Come in," she sighed, in a voice that totally sounded like she didn't want anyone to come in. I pushed the heavy oak door open anyways and stepped into the office, dropping my backpack in one of the empty chairs in front of her desk.
"Hey kiddo!"
"Hey Mom."
Mom, pushed her work aside, and leaned over the desk so that she could ruffle my hair. She didn't look tired anymore, she just looked pretty pleased, that the school day was over and that she had an excuse not to fill out any more paper work. "How was the first day?"
I thought back to the past eight hours, and shrugged. "Pretty good. Probably better than yours." I nodded my head towards the pages scattered everywhere and cocked an eyebrow. It was the first day; seriously how many pieces of paper did she need to fill out?
"Doubt it," she sang, spinning once in her chair. "Did you know I get free dental with this job?"
I rolled my eyes. "Mom, I'm not even going to pretend to be excited for you. But still I need a favor…"
Mom's eyebrows shot up and she sat back in her seat. Her arms crossed against her chest and she tapped her toe against the wooden floor of her office. "And what would that be?"
I gulped, checking the clock. 3:10, which meant I was already ten minutes late to meet Bex at her car. I didn't want them to leave with out me. "Do you think maybe I could, hang out with some people I met today? Just for a little while."
Mom grinned and I knew she was going to say yes, so when she smiled and nodded, I wasn't surprised. "Be home at nine!" She shouted after me as I turned and made my way out of her office. "It's still a school night!"
I hurried my way down the hallway, pushing past stragglers that were still wandering around the school and hurried out to the front end of the school. There were more people outside, hanging around and driving up and down the street to look for their friends.
I didn't know what kind of car Bex drove, so I sort of waited on the curb hoping that they hadn't left with out me. I didn't want them to think I had ditched them, especially since they were the nicest people I'd met all day.
A loud long honk followed by the sound of Bex screaming, "CAMMIE!" led me to a black Range Rover. Bex was leaning out the driver's window and in the backseat, I could see Liz hunched over some type of book. The passenger side was empty.
"Hey, where's Macey?" I asked, opening the car door and buckling my seatbelt. Bex pressed on the accelerator, going above the school speed limit (a daring twenty-five miles per hour) and cut a jeep off. Whoever was driving let out a blaring honk but Bex just waved them off and turned onto the main road.
"She's driving by herself," Liz piped up from the back. I looked in the rearview mirror, and saw her holding the biology textbook. "Bex drives me home on Mondays."
I nodded, but didn't answer because at this point Bex had turned her music up loud and was zipping down the street. She was a worse driver than I was, and a couple of times she even started driving on the wrong side of the street, and didn't realize until a car nearly ran us over. Definitely not nerve wracking at all.
We finally pulled into a polished driveway, followed by a house that looked a lot like mine. Bex turned the car off and got out, so I followed. We walked up the brick steps to the bright red front door and Bex stuck her key in the lock. It creaked open.
The house was silent. "So where are you parents?" I asked, following Bex and Liz into the kitchen. Bex crossed the tile, and stopped in front of the fridge. I couldn't see her face, cause it was halfway in the fridge, when she said, "They're at work."
I nodded and leaned across the counter, waiting for what to do next. Liz was still reading, she had been the whole way here and the whole time inside the house, and Bex was balancing a pile of food in her arms.
"I've got two different ice cream flavors, whip cream, and some pretzels- you guys wanna go upstairs and wait for Macey?" I eyed the mint chocolate chip gallon of ice cream hungrily and nodded. The salad I'd had for lunch hadn't even lasted me two hours. By seventh period my stomach had already been growling. So heck yes, I wanted some ice cream and pretzels.
We made our way up the white-carpeted stairs, with me having to guide Liz the whole way up since she was still not dropping her biology textbook. She must have been reading something super interesting.
When we got to Bex's room we dumped all the food onto the bed, and dug right in. I probably should have been careful not to drip any of the minty chocolatey goodness onto Bex's comforter but I was so hungry I didn't care. I dug my spoon in and ate straight from the carton. Sorry, Madame Dabney.
We talked for a bit, mostly about sports. It was good; cause Liz had nothing to add on the subject so she had an excuse to keep on reading, plus hearing about Bex talk about all the sports she had played was really interesting.
"I came here in eighth grade, and played volleyball and basketball for a while. But I totally hated it. And I've always loved football, so that's what I stuck with." She was saying, as she munched absent-mindedly on her pretzel. All around her room were soccer trophies and track ribbons. She had at least six soccer jerseys tacked up to her wall, all signed by someone famous that I knew absolutely nothing about it.
I leaned back into Bex's pillows and nodded. "I like running. So cross country's my thing."
"And apparently so is Zach."
Macey was standing at the doorway to Bex's room, with her arms crossed across her chest and a sly smile on her face. She kicked her shoes off, and then dropped dramatically on the bed, taking grabbing the unopened vanilla ice cream carton off the bed and digging in.
"Um, no, he isn't." I insisted, feeling my face burn red. "Honestly, we're neighbors and that's it."
Liz, who had finally shut her science book at the mention of boys, raised her eyebrows. "That's not what it looked like." Her comment was followed by smug smiles from both Bex and Macey, just before Bex asked.
"So what exactly did it look like, Lizzie?"
"It looked like flirting, Bex."
I groaned and threw my head into the pillows. "It was banter, guys. Like, friendly, we're-just-neighbors, he-helped-me-move-in type of banter. I swear."
Now Macey looked even more unconvinced. She dropped her spoon, covered the ice cream gallon, placed the spoon on top of it, and set it aside. "He helped you move in? Did you ask him to?"
I shook my head.
"Are you joking me?"
I shook my head.
"Wow."
"What's the big deal?" I wanted to know, sitting up on Bex's bed. He was just someone who had helped me move heavy boxes up and down my stairs (NOT that I couldn't have done it myself if I wanted to, cause I totally could've).
Bex shrugged. "It's just that Zach is just the flirty type. He's not really the kind of guy who would spend his time helping someone he barely knows move in."
Macey looked up from inspecting her nails. "Yeah, and not to mention he's, like, super hot."
Yeah, and there was that.
A/N: See? This chapter doesn't sound very much like me but I still hope y'all like it. I promise (at least I'll try) to make the next one sound less awkward. Well R/R pleeeeeeeeeeease and tell me what you want to hear. I'll try to add it.
-hashtagfanfiction
