Snoddy's POV

Did you know that celery has negative calories? It takes more calories to eat celery than are actually in it! How amazing is that?

Okay, no, I'm not obsessed with my weight. I'm just a fount of useless information. Maybe it's because I'm Irish and the Guinness Book of World Records reminds me of booze. Or it could be due to the fact that I once had nothing better to do with my time except watch old reruns of Ripley's Believe It or Not.

That is, until Jake came here at the beginning of the year. I love Jake. I haven't exactly been able to bring myself to tell him yet but I am truly head over heels in love with him. The problem is that I'm afraid that if I tell him that I love him, he'll think I'm going too fast or—dare I say it?—he doesn't love me back. It's really quite tragic.

But then there are times, like when I give him another book he's missing, that I feel like he loves me too. Or today. I was walking to the principal's office because there was a problem with my Timetable. Here's the thing about the principal's office: it's in a gross, dark hallway with all of these little niches in the walls.

So you can imagine my terror when someone reaches out from one of the niches and pulls me in. But then I saw who it was.

"Jake?"

He put a finger to his lips and pulled me close to him. His hands inched up my shirt and his lips found mine in the dark. I lost myself, really. His tongue skittered around the roof of my mouth; his hands were firmly planted under my shirt. I felt myself lean into him and I moaned to deepen the kiss. I reached for his shirt and hooked my fingers into the fabric.

Jake brought that lovely mouth away from mine and smiled in the gloom. "You've no idea how much I want to do that in public."

I smiled at him and he kissed me once more. It wasn't until I found myself being pushed to the floor that I realized that I still had to go to the principal's office and having sex in a public venue, especially at school and especially at this school, was not a wise idea.

"Jakey, I have to go," I whispered against his lips.

And he seemed really reluctant to let me up but he did and I went to get my third period straightened out.

--

Itey's POV

Shelving books in the library is pure bliss. Actually, that's an utter lie. I hate it. But it eats up time. I have copious free time because of the lack of this little thing called a life. But the more I volunteer here, the more volunteer hours I get under my belt when I have to apply for scholarships. Granted, putting Tom Clancy where he's supposed to go on a shelf isn't up to par with, say, feeding the homeless but it was a start…or something.

The library at JPHS has possibly never been dusted. The shelves are covered in a good two inches of dust and there is a veritable circus of silverfish here. Dust so old that it's brown. Sometimes it amazes me at how disgusting our school is.

"Look! It's Davey's old haunts!"

Cue the Populars. Damn, and I was hoping I could shelve in peace. It was a day when Heidi Anderson didn't shelve. She was a future librarian in training. She had everything: requisite bun, long and unflattering skirt, flats, glasses on a chain and stockings. A forty-year-old woman in the body of a sixteen-year-old girl. I suppose that I should be kind about it but she likes me and that's not cool. I mean, it's flattering but no thanks. To be perfectly honest, I haven't really been interested in girls since…ever. And I'm not sure why.

But I digress. I was hoping to hurry up and get out of here but the Populars had come swaggering in. All of them. I know I shouldn't hate them or whatever but I just didn't like them. They have everything, I have nothing. Therefore, I hate them. What can I say? I'm a teenager.

The rather large group stood at the door of the library. Dust-infused light danced above their heads. I surveyed them.

Nick Meyers and Louie Ballat were laughing over something stupid. Louie was wearing one of those ugly, billed knit caps while Nick wore a flimsy wife beater but might as well have been not in a shirt at all. Lucky Nick: gorgeous, good at sports, whole package. Luckily, he has the intelligence of one of the many silverfish in here so I don't feel too jealous.

"Yo!" It appeared that Jack—probably fresh from his latest syphilis vaccination—was addressing me.

I was too busy staring enviously at Nick's body (I've seen him at lunch; all he eats is junk food and never works out—from what I've heard from the amount he parties—and he has that body) to notice Jack was speaking to me until Spot hit me rather rudely with the stick of his Tootsie Pop.

"I'm sorry," I said earnestly. "What do you guys need?"

"Books," Spot said bluntly.

No, really?

"What kind of books?" I smiled brightly.

"Reference books." David stepped forward and smiled. Maybe it was because he used to have no friends either but I felt my smile become genuine.

"We're looking for stuff on the Franco-Prussian War."

That voice. That voice was like a chorus of angels. It was lyrical, pretty. Lilting and deep and just…beautiful.

I looked to find out who it was. Nick and Louie were laughing over anatomy books and I already knew their voices (plus, if it were them, 'Franco-Prussian' would have been mispronounced and the word 'dude' would have been thrown in). I knew it wasn't Spot. Not accented so it wasn't Anthony. The second-string Populars were meandering near the door. Not fit enough to be up with Jack and Spot (seriously, his name was Spot) and all them so they just hung around, getting by on the fact that they were friends with them.

And there he was.

He was tall and gorgeous. But strangely gorgeous. His eyebrows were thick and there was a thatch of dark, dark hair on his head. Thick and dense and curling slightly over his ears. His eyes were a lovely shade of blue. His teeth almost looked too big for his mouth but it worked for him. I was struck deaf, dumb, blind and mute. I was Helen Keller! Okay, that was bad but I had no time to be politically correct. I had never noticed how good looking Aurel Bogdan was. I had always just seen him with the Populars, blending in. He was…wow.

I had never had my breath taken away, least of all by a guy.

Come on, Spinelli, think! Say something! Say anything!

"I don't handle reference. It's upstairs."

Okay…something better than that.

He nodded a little. "Cool, cool. Thanks…"

Giuseppe Spinelli. I've been in your class since second grade. I sit behind you in bio.

"Itey."

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

But he smiled, showing those gorgeous teeth. "Alright. Thanks, Itey."

Jack and them swaggered off, Louie and Nick still pointing at pictures in the anatomy book and laughing their brainless heads off. But Aurel was still in front of me.

"Yo, Snitch. Let's roll!" Spot called over his shoulder.

Aurel turned and followed them. I found myself turning my head and watching him go.

Okay, so maybe I didn't hate the Populars too much.

--

Pie's POV

Sometimes I just want to kill everyone. No, not everyone…the people who hurt me. I came out to my friends at the end of freshmen year. Well, came out is the operative word. I was found literally in the closet with a guy by my friends: the Populars. Things didn't go too well. People were confused and somehow, out of that confusion, punches started being thrown. One of those punches assisted me down a flight of stairs.

The injuries weren't that bad, I just broke my arm. Still, I was hurt way more than that. I became Forgotten. It's better than being mercilessly bashed all of the time but it still hurts. Mainly because the guy, the one I was with, he still got to keep his Popular status. I was the only one ostracized.

So I'd just want to kill them, kill all of the Populars. Burn them. Wreck them. But especially him, the one who I was with.

Who am I kidding? I couldn't do that. I could never kill a human being. But I've thought it about it plenty. That's why I never talk. I plot. But the others, they're alright. I wouldn't mind actually being friends with them. Plus, Jake didn't freak out as I had thought and the others seemed pretty open too. Not like I'm about to be all open and touchy with them but still, it's nice to have an option.

Really, I can't handle the friends thing anymore. Getting thrown down a flight of stairs can do that to a person. I'm not entirely sure why I sit with them other than the fact that they're all pretty cute. Although it was nice seeing them finally talk. And talking to Jake yesterday was nice. I could see us eventually becoming friends. Or something else. I don't know. He has a very nice voice. But I'm just a sucker for accents. I admit, I can be stereotypical.

"Nice hat today, man." Jake. I was waiting for the bus and he and Snoddy just came up to me. It's actually quite pleasant.

Although I'm fairly certain he's joking about the hat. My hats are incredibly weird. Plus, I've paired it with a scarf and sweater vest. Not exactly a beacon of fashion. But he's making an effort.

"Thanks," I said shortly.

They sat next to me.

"Where do you live?" Snoddy asked, slipping his hand into Jake's.

I was taken back. For one, they're a couple (I, he of the ever observantness, missed that!) and two…Jake was taken. Not that I fully committed myself to a crush of course, that's silly. I can't have feelings for him and that's not because I still have feelings for closet boy. No way.

It could be I missed that because I'm stoned all the time. Truth be told, it's not marijuana I like; it's the prescription pills. At the Allerdyce household, there is never an absence of pills to be had. But still, you'd think I would have noticed something. Note to self: don't stare at the ground so much.

"Not far," I answered. "I live in Queens."

"Then why do you go here?" Snoddy queried.

"Because it's better than the school there."

"Bumlets goes here too," Jake put in for my defense. "And he lives in Brooklyn. Same with Spot."

Snoddy frowned. "How do you know that gourier lives in Brooklyn?"

Jake laughed. "Are you serious, luv? His clothes always have the word BROOKLYN across it in huge letters. Clothes, might I add, that are about seven sizes too big."

"He should really look in the mirror," Snoddy put in. "He's white. In fact, I think he's as Irish as I am."

I had to laugh. I think I had laughed more today than I have at any time since the stair incident.

It immediately died in my throat, though, once I saw who's coming out of the gates surrounding our school. A small throng of the first-string Populars: Spot, Jack, David, Anthony, Nick and Louie. But I don't care about most of them. Just one. Just Nick with his sunshine smile and those big brown eyes. Nick who I told myself repeatedly that I didn't still care for.

Nick who I was caught in the closet with.

--

Swifty's POV

It still surprised me to see Bumlets waiting for me after swim practice today. Sure, we were all talking more at lunch and that little episode on the bus but I didn't expect it to become a whole thing.

"Hey."

This time I was already dressed and mostly dry.

"Hey, back," he replied. "So, this is how the sports thing is done?"

I nodded. "Pretty much. You know, with your locker room obsession, I'm surprised you're not on a team."

Bumlets laughed and tossed back that perfect mass of hair. I once again tugged on my own hair and sighed.

"Nah, too many naked guys for my taste," he replied before noticing my tugging. "If you want to do something with your hair, I can help."

I let up and put my hands hastily behind my back like a little kid caught with something he wasn't supposed to have.

"It's alright," Bumlets said. "Come on to my place."

Had our friendship gotten to that stage yet? Probably not. Oh, fuck it.

"Sure."

We were on our way out of the pool area when we bumped into Itey leaving the library. His cheeks were flushed and he was breathing rather heavily. Couldn't blame him. The library was so dusty, I swear I saw some tumbleweeds go by when I was in there researching for my biology report.

"Hey," he said when he spotted us. "What's happening?"

"We're going to my house," Bumlets replied. "Wanna come with?"

He shrugged. "Sure. I'll just call my mom from there I guess."

Bumlets laughed at the notion of Itey calling his mother and the three of us set forward. We passed through the chain link fence and the metal detectors to get to the bus stop and that was when I figured that the universe really wanted us to be friends.

Snoddy, Pie and Jake were sitting on the bus stop bench. There was the needed group of Populars there but they didn't notice us as they piled into Jack's car. Because those who are Popular don't do anything as gauche as, say, riding a bus.

"We're going to my house," Bumlets explained. "To do something about Swifty's hair. Wanna come?"

"Sounds fun," Snoddy said, gripping Jake's hand.

"Indeed, it does. We're in."

I noticed that they were holding hands and felt…strange about it. Not pissed, not angry but strange.

Pie glanced up at us and nodded. His face was puffy and I wondered what the deal was. But I figured it wasn't my place to ask.

When the bus got here, we all got on to head towards the subway station to take us to Brooklyn. As it rolled away from our school, Bumlets grinned at me.

"What?"

"Swifty…what are your opinions on hot pink?"