Continuing. I know you're probably anxious to get to the JD stuff, but we need this exposition.

The next Saturday rolled around. Martha told me over the phone that Veronica had flaked out on movie night again, so I suggested she come over to my house and I'd pick a movie and get the Jiffy Pop and have it hot and ready as soon as we got the movie started.

By that point, I had managed to catch my parents long enough that morning to tell them I wanted to invite a friend over. "I just want to rent something from the video shop and get some popcorn, and we'll just watch a movie."

Dad looked pleased. "Well, it's nice that you've already made a friend, sweetheart," he said. "Tell you what, your mother and I don't have to work late on Saturdays, but we'll go out so you can have some extra time without some middle-aged adults cramping your style."

I laughed, one of the few genuine laughs that I'd given in a while. "It's fine. If she's still here, I'll introduce you both." I knew my parents would be surprised that I had a friend with such a positive outlook who was clearly not at all cynical, but Martha was so easy to like and no parent would be worried if their kid was hanging around with her.

I ended up renting Rain Man. I wasn't a huge Dustin Hoffman fan and I would have rather gotten a horror movie, but I sensed Martha would rather watch something that wasn't too gory. Plus the ending wasn't too unhappy. I'd only seen it once before and I didn't remember it too well, but I remembered finding it OK. Of course Hoffman's performance was way over the top for my modern tastes, but the story itself was good.

I was right about my parents. They got home just after the credits started rolling and Martha and I were talking about it (and I was sounding off about how real autism isn't usually that obvious – one of the kids at my school in 2019 had been diagnosed in junior year and it wasn't obvious there was anything different about him unless you'd known him for a while).

I immediately jumped up. "Oh! Hi. Um, Mom and Dad, this is my friend, Martha Dunnstock. She's one of the few seniors who doesn't treat new kids like being new is contagious."

Martha blushed at the compliment, but she smiled brightly and shook my parents' hands. "It's nice to meet you both."

My parents liked Martha on sight, I could tell. They were very chatty and only stopped when Martha said she had to get home. I mean, why wouldn't they like her? She was sweet and well-mannered, she dressed modestly if young, and she had a very positive energy, even if everything also said "innocent". I think they were a little surprised she was one of my chosen friends, but to be fair, I hadn't chosen her as much as she'd chosen me. They weren't at all opposed to it, though.

After she went home, Mom said to me "She seems like a sweet young lady. I'm glad you've already made a friend."

I smiled politely and said "She already has a best friend, but she keeps being flaky so I'm more of the fallback friend. I don't know her best friend that well, and we've sort of got this agreement that we don't really hang out in school. I've got my own group there."

And my new group was easy enough. When Tim and Will sat with us, we always kept the talk light and easy. When it was just us girls, we sometimes talked more about girl stuff, but it was still easy for me, like I'd always been one of them. I didn't feel like I needed to fake too much around them, as long as I tried not to use any specific twenty-first century slang or mention anything from that era at all.

Yeah, that was the one thing that I was most worried about, the teen language of the era. I wished I still had access to the internet, then I could look up 1980s slang. I'd seen a few Eighties movies, but it's not like I memorized anything they said. I knew things like "how very" and "motor" and even "Ralph", but that was easy stuff that you could figure out without looking it up. Half of it was made up from the movie and carried over to the musical. If I acted confused when known slang was used, that would be a great way to make people think I was weird. I still wasn't convinced that I'd be in this place forever, because it still didn't quite feel real. But if I stayed here and grew up and actually had the life I didn't get to finish in my own time, I knew I'd have to get used to it and not come off as too clueless. I'd just have to accept it and wait for all the technology, and maybe stay in the States in 2019 instead of going abroad and getting that mysterious illness from the market in Wuhan. Every week was a test, like a paper that said "Social Life in 1989", and the third one had just begun.

I was also nervous. Ram's homecoming party was on Saturday night. My whole group was coming – obviously we didn't have any official invites, but we knew we were invited, nonetheless. We were seniors and the popular kids weren't liable to throw us out if they saw us. They wouldn't take kindly to just anyone showing up, but we were safe. I knew that I had to plan everything very, very carefully to do everything right that night.

But even that wasn't what I was nervous about. I continued scanning the lunchroom every day that week. I even watched the Heathers' table carefully to see if they had Veronica forging anything. Eventually, it got to Friday and I finally caught sight of a black trench coat, worn by a guy with his head in a book, tucked away at a table in the corner.

The boys weren't sitting with us, so I nudged Steph and whispered "Check out the new kid!"

Steph looked at the boy, then back at me. Slowly, her neutral expression gave way to a sly grin. "Let me guess, you think he's cute and want to play welcoming committee?"

I frowned. "Am I that transparent?"

Stephanie's smirk widened. "Well…kinda.."

"Don't tease her, Steph!" Lisa interjected. "You should tell her she's blushing!" She was the sweetest in our group, although sometimes I got the feeling she was faking it, in a way that made me think she wanted us to know that she was faking.

Good thing I carried a compact. I flipped it open, saw my pink cheeks and snapped it shut again. "I'll just say it's too much blusher," I said with a sigh. "Besides, I didn't like being the new kid, either."

"Just don't forget to keep your clothes on!" Holly teased, a loudly, as I'd already started walking away. I did my best not to look back and make it clear that was for me, just in case someone had heard her.

Then, when I finally got to the corner table, I wasn't sure what to say. I eventually coughed, which got his attention. He looked up.

My first glance at JD's face told me that yes, he was hot. Not quite Ryan McCartan, who I was pretty neutral on, although I wouldn't have minded if he had the same singing voice. Not quite a young Christian Slater, either, which was even better. He was hot and gave a great performance, but I didn't want to keep being reminded of how scarily cool he got, or how unbalanced he was, either. He looked more like him than McCartan, but he looked enough like his own person that I wasn't going to be constantly reminded of the movie. He had dark hazel eyes, more green than brown, with long lashes for a guy – something I liked. I couldn't tell exactly how tall he was, but I got the feeling that if he was standing, he'd tower over me a fair amount. His skin was really clear and tan, more natural-looking than like he'd gotten it from the sun, and as we made eye contact, I knew my cheeks were graduating from pink to scarlet.

"Hey," I said shyly. "I saw you from my table. New kid, right?"

He nodded. "Are you the welcoming committee or something?"

I smiled. "My friends said that. So welcome to Westerburg Hell…oops, Westerburg High. No, I was new at the start of the year. My name's Ana. Ana Jordan. I just saw you were alone and thought I might as well introduce myself. Not that you seemed to be bothered about it…" I added hastily, my shyness giving way to babbling, "But I know I would have wanted someone to talk to me. What's your name?"

He surveyed me carefully before he answered. "Jason Dean. JD for short."

I nodded, glad I didn't have to pretend I didn't know it any longer. "I don't want to be annoying," I said hesitantly, "So I'll get back to my friends if you'd rather read. But I'll be sure to say hi if you're in any of my classes. So at least you know one name."

JD looked at me again. The smallest trace of a smile crossed his face. "Yeah, I guess I do. Thanks."

I managed a smile and an "I'll see you around," before I sauntered back to my usual table.

"So?" Holly pressed. "I see you kept it chaste."

"I'm not a total slut like you seem to think, Holls," I said with a giggle. "He knows who I am, at least."

"Just ignore her gutter mind," Lisa advised. "So, what did you learn?"

I shrugged. "Not much. His name. His nickname. He likes to be called by his initials. He's pretty quiet, but I got a small smile out of him because I said I'd acknowledge him in my classes. But I got the feeling he'd rather be left alone to read, and I don't want him to think I pester people."

"That's kindness," Lisa remarked. "But what next? Kindness won't tell him what you want."

"Baby steps," Stephanie told her. "He knows who she is. She can throw her panties at him later on."

I blushed again – I didn't even have to check my compact – and my friends giggled. At least Stephanie's comment wasn't something anyone else could hear.

But she was right. At least JD knew who I was now. And while I couldn't be sure of the exact time he would be at the Seven-Eleven tomorrow night, or even which one, I could take a guess from the time Ram's party started (nine-thirty, going to when everyone had crashed out on the living room floor) and where his house was. Now all I had to do was try and get there at a time when JD would still be there, but before Veronica got in.

I figured that Ana couldn't get that far the first time she met JD, especially in school where he's probably more guarded by instinct. Loners are usually at the bottom of the social hierarchy based on the research I read up on, and he's probably used to being one, since he moves around too much to bother with finding a group. As a note, the reason I made a big deal about how Rain Man portrays autism is because I was diagnosed five years ago, something that should've been spotted long ago, but wasn't because "Too intelligent" – which insults everyone with autism, because so many of them are intelligent, just not all of them can be tested.

By the way, I am also uploading this on Archive of Our Own. Just thought I should mention it.