The following day, Persephone didn't feel like she'd made any progress with Lucas or their project. She didn't see him all day, not even when she stopped by his locker that morning. Half-day today; she wouldn't see him for lunch, either. Their project would suffer due to their lack of communication, and she wasn't sure the kinds of stakes he had riding on it but if they were anything like hers, neither of them could afford to fail. She sighed as she grabbed some things from her locker. Ronald would be so pissed if she didn't land an A.

Persephone heard a thud against the lockers beside her and peeked around the door to see who it was. "Surprise, surprise, it's Lucas, come to visit me."
"Half-day, right?" He asked, back leaning against the locker. "Ain't got Physics on Thursdays."
"Yep, gonna head home for lunch."
Lucas cleared his throat with an awkward cough. "So, uh… Mind if I walk ya?"

He wanted to walk with her now? After having seemingly avoided her all day? He was an oddball — and she kinda liked that.

She kept her cool. "Aww, how sweet. Did you wanna hold my hand, too?"
"Don' milk it, city girl."
She laughed softly. "I'd love it if you walked me home."

She stayed beside him as they headed out, trying not to snicker when he almost dove for the front door and awkwardly held it open, eyes looking anywhere else but her. She simply thanked him and enjoyed his silent company. Rumors spread as he walked with her through the crowd of other seniors: "look who's about to lose his virginity", "dead girl walkin'", "she's gone to the dark side", "that psycho's gonna eat her alive".

She ignored them as best as she could — in a strange way, their words intrigued her. They made her want to know more about 'Crazy Lucas', if he even was crazy, and why people seemed to dislike and be afraid of him. When they were away from school and along the sidewalks through the townhouses nearby, Lucas spoke.

"Yer definitely out'cher mind, lettin' me walk ya — I know y'all can hear what people're sayin'."
"Oh, let them talk. Chicago's rumor mill got so bad that they had to have several presentations on bullying and suicide — whole damn school was forced to go each time."
"Some of what they say is true," Lucas said somberly. "Most isn't, but some is."
"Like…?"
"Keep hangin' with me and you'll find out."
"Oh, is that a threat, or an invitation?"

Lucas's mouth twitched into what Persephone gleaned was an almost-smile. Seemed it was, since he put his hood up soon after, blocking most of his face aside from his nose. They walked for a while longer without speaking, giving her a chance to try and enjoy the scenery near her neighborhood. Birds chirped especially loud from across the way, where a swampy bit of land faced the homes; trim and well-kept, but still very wild. The area reminded her of a story:

Portage Park, a large forested place where she'd found a dead body alongside a few of her self-defense classmates. They never found the killer and she would never forget the way it felt to poke the body with a stick — and the smell of the corpse when a braver classmate pushed the body with her foot. A morbid story for her morbid friend. She hoped it would get some kind of a reaction out of him — a smile, a chuckle, a quizzical look, maybe a story of his own.

Nothing. She guessed the rumor mill got to him.

"Don't worry about what those dumbasses say," she said. "People will call you crazy just 'cuz they don't understand you. People called me crazy 'cuz they thought I was dissecting cats. Don't ask how that rumor started. I may not like cats much but I sure wasn't dissecting the strays."

Nope. Still nothing. Not a single word, not a glance. A challenge, this one — she couldn't break through to him. He seemed distracted.

Lucas repressed a sigh. Now that he was out with her, rumor mill fresh in his mind, he had second thoughts. Should he really be getting all buddy-buddy? He wouldn't care about the rumors if she was some random asshole, only around him because of their project. But she wasn't. She wanted to talk to him, share food, be friendly, and damn did she have some interesting stories (and a nice ass). He wasn't used to someone like her. If nothing else, walking her home gave him time to ponder and think about their relationship — and Oliver, and his shitty classmates. After the project, he'd let her go. Rejection wasn't an option. Not from her.

His thoughts were cut short when they came upon a walkway. He followed her up it, stopping when she turned and smiled at him.

"Thanks for walking me home." She walked backward up the step to her porch.
"Don' get used to it," he said, hoping he sounded snippy enough to drive her off.
But it only made her chuckle. "I won't. You be safe going home now. Oh, and before I forget…"

She ripped a piece of paper out of her backpack, grabbed a pen, wrote something down, then handed him the piece of paper. A phone number was written on it.

No… Not just a phone number, hers. He looked back up at her, seeing her smile and chocolate brown hair surrounding her face, so close to him that he could smell her shampoo. Holy shit were those glasses cute. Before he realized he'd even done it (and with no real recollection how), he'd written his number down, only noticing the done deed when he held it out and gave it to her.

"Hit me up sometime," she said, giving him a sly look and a smirk before opening her door and stepping inside.

He left before the door could fully shut. Well, that went exactly the opposite of how he'd planned. He headed home, mind still reeling over her phone number clasped in his fingers and the look she'd given him. It would be a long walk now that he'd missed the bus, but at least he'd have that memory.

Friday, and Lucas had to go elsewhere to eat his lunch — namely, he stood inside one of the unoccupied lockers near the back-end of the school. He'd successfully avoided Persephone all day but Physics fast approached and they'd be forced to interact. His face fell when the bell rang, signifying the end of lunch. Could he just stay in that locker for the rest of the day? Or, preferably, the rest of his life? Unfortunately, no, the school kept an annoyingly close eye on him and any deviation from his schedule could spell trouble. He didn't have any other choice.

Swallowing his pride, and the rest of his sandwich, he exited the locker into the swarm of teens going to their next classes (garnering a few odd looks from people who saw him leave the locker). He made his way to Physics, trying not to think about her (and her glasses and her ass and her— stop it).

Persephone was in the classroom already, other classmates paired off. She waved to him when he came in, patting the long desk in the back she'd reserved for them.

"Hey, partner," she said as he approached. "Got one of the cool desks for us."

He sat across from her, pulling out his book and slamming it open to one of the pages in the 400s. She looked at him with a cocked eyebrow but didn't comment on it.

She started. "So, we got forty minutes—"
Which was about 40 minutes too long.
"—to figure out what we wanna do."
"I don' give a damn."
She scratched her forehead and muttered, "Helpful."

He pulled out his notebook and opened it to a blank page, getting back to work on his various creations. Just as he decided which one to start on (three ideas had been going at once), he heard Persephone's phone go off. Though his hand kept drawing, he covertly looked at her from under his hood and saw her texting. Persephone sighed hard about whatever she'd seen.

"Miss Black, you better not be on your phone," warned Mrs. Tompkin.

She returned her phone to her pocket and turned back to Lucas, their eyes meeting before he had a chance to look away.

"My mom," she explained shortly. "She only ever texts me when she's about to have a breakdown, or she wants me to go to the store. I really hope it's the latter, I don't wanna go home and deal with her again." She changed her tone to a mocking, high-pitched one. "Ooh, I hate my life, your dad's a jackass, this was all a mistake." Then back to normal. "I swear she thinks I'm her therapist or something. I know Dad's a jackass but he's the only reason she and I aren't homeless."

That was… a lot. Before he could articulate any thoughts, it seemed his silence made her continue.

"And it's nice to know that I was a mistake. If she hadn't lied to my dad, she never would've gotten pregnant, and she never would've wound up like this. It's all her damn fault, but can I tell her that? Nooo, she has a conniption and suddenly I'm the bad guy."

Her fingers tapped the desk irritably. Well then. He wasn't sure how to react to that. He'd stopped pretending to draw and just stared in what he could only describe as awe, all the while her tapping grew more furious and her brow furrowed ever harder.

"Sorry," she said abruptly. "Next week we'll really start."

Then she left the classroom and stormed off. A deep breath of relief audibly escaped him. Thank God. It had been getting too difficult just to be around her. Curiosity about her home life set in and he had to will these thoughts away. Her home life didn't matter. It shouldn't matter. But why the hell couldn't he stop thinking about her?

Friday night, and he still had a hard time getting Persephone off his mind. He sighed, laying on his bed in the dark, hands behind his head and thumbs twiddling. The image of looking up at her, the sun haloing her features, remained a permanent fixture in his brain now. Why did he want to walk her home? What had he been thinking? No, clearly it'd been his other head thinking, otherwise he wouldn't be in this mess.

He got a text on his phone, hearing its vibration rumble through the wood of his nightstand. His arm slumped over to grab it and he checked who it was.

"Fuck," he muttered — Oliver, who else would it have been?
'talking to ur girl haha'

God, he was a douchebag. Lucas rolled his eyes. Good, maybe Oliver would take her and then he wouldn't need to worry anymore. But Persephone ending up with an asshole like Oliver? Hell no. Then again, Persephone ending up with an asshole like himself wasn't a very good deal, either. Not wanting to seem hesitant, he sent a text back.

'don't care'
'she says she wants to meet up with me'

Like hell. He shot over to Persephone's contact info and started up a new message. But he stopped. What was he going to write? 'Are you talking to Oliver' seemed like a very stupid thing to send as a first text. He rubbed his temple, staring at his phone in disbelief. What in the fuck was he doing? Was he going to tell Persephone not to go see Oliver? He didn't want her to, but wasn't his plan not to get close to her? What better way than letting Oliver get the girl? But that thought disgusted him.

Meanwhile, Persephone's feet throbbed. Friday evenings had always been spent cleaning the house and the recent move wouldn't get her out of the habit. Boxes unpacked and put away, floors cleaned, junk left behind from the previous tenants trashed; now she was almost done making dinner. As she stirred the pot of potato stew, her phone went off: a text, from Oliver.

"Fuck," she cursed sharply.

Oliver wasn't as dumb as he looked. He'd stopped her in the hall just after she'd left class and blind-sided her by asking for her number. Then he'd wanted to 'check to see' if he'd typed her number down correctly, so he'd called her then. She'd felt pressured to give him her number and in her rush to see her mother (who'd been perfectly fine, of course), she'd caved to him. So now she's paying for it. What exactly was 'it'? She didn't know, but she was paying.

His text read, 'hey wyd'
'What do you want?'
'just checking up on u, how's ur mom?'
Weird; still, nothing impressive. Anyone paying even a little bit of attention would've heard her mention Terry. She'd simply been sure that he'd only stared at her boobs or spaced out when they'd talked. 'She's fine, like always.'
'cool, wanna meet up?'
There it was. She replied, 'No.'

She rapidly stirred her stew, splashing some of it onto the stove. Everyone in Chicago had known to stay away from her — "she might cut you up in your sleep" (god she'd love to do that to some) — but then move to some swampy hick town and suddenly everyone wants to talk to the new girl with her weird accent. And the boys. They were probably the worst part.

'u sure?' His text read. 'was gonna buy u dinner'
Seriously? There were so many ways in which she wanted to tell him to fuck off. 'Don't make me kick your ass.'
'damn ur savage'

Don't ever forget it.

A few minutes passed before her phone went off again. If that was Oliver, she was going to flip. But it was Lucas, with a simple, 'hey, what's up?'. Her heart fluttered, his blue eyes and strange ways coming to mind. Maybe she'd spoken too soon. Sometimes, the boys were the best part.