It was hard for me to concentrate the following day. Spanish, my first period (I mean, can you blame me for having a C? It's like seven in the morning speaking another language! I can hardly speak English in the morning, let alone Spanish.), was distracting. I kept thinking about James. Yes, I know, you're probably thinking, "Oh brother." And it's going to be one of those romantic, gushy stories. Well, I do have to say, yes. It is. Sometimes. Kind of. Whatever, it kind of is.

Anyways, James was on my mind throughout the whole day. And by the time I knew it, it was lunch. I couldn't even believe I made it through three periods without getting yelled at. Well, will wonders never cease?

We usually ate our lunch at one table. Outside. No matter what. We didn't care if it was raining, or snowing, or…um, really hot. We ate there.

I saw Andrew, Hana, and Josh at our table. Josh is pretty cool. He's kind of tall, with brown hair and brown eyes. The boy next door kind of type. With the exception of, you know, the two lip rings, the gauged ears and the eyebrow piercing. He was sporting black baggy pants and a tight black shirt. You know those shirts, um…under armor or something? That is really tight and show off guys' muscles? Yea, that shirt.

I sat down next to Hana, throwing my brown paper lunch on my lap.

"What up, cracka?!" Hana exclaimed, laughing. I think she's in that 'wanna-be ghetto' mood. I laughed too.

"Nothing, been bored out of my mind." She nodded. Andrew and Josh weren't paying attention to us. I think they were talking about some upcoming concert. Sounds chill.

"Gosh Josh!" I love saying that. "Where have you been?" He shrugged, not bothering to laugh.

"Around," He ran a hand through his hair. "Party tonight. Guys feel like crashing it?" Andrew frowned. I thought he liked parties…



Why we're friends in the first place. Freshman year, I, being the naïve girl that I was, went to a party. I didn't drink, cause I'm just not like that. And some drunk guy came up and started to hit on me. I would've been raped or something (insert shudder here) but Andrew threw him off me. We became good friends ever since.

And there's a party tonight. I shrugged.

"Nah, not my scene." Andrew seemed pleased with my answer, giving me a small smile.

Hana shrugged too. "We were planning on hanging out tonight. So, no thanks. But you can come chill at our house. Carly's coming too." Carly is our cool friend that goes to another high school. I met her through Hana, and we've been good friends since Eighth grade.

Josh nodded. "Alright. Sounds good." Insert awkward silence here. We all just ate in silence, talking when a subject that we found interesting came up.

Finally, the bell rang and I went to class. Exciting.

It was during English that I finally snapped to attention. Someone flicked a piece of paper at the back of my head. I scowled. Have people ever heard of, oh I don't know, passing notes discretely? Apparently not.

I opened the note.

Hey there, Delilah.

Firstly, I love that song. It's by The Plain White T's. And I love it because it has my name in it. I mean, not to sound conceited or anything. But I think it's cool that a girl that has the same name as me is so special to this one guy that he'd walk 1,000 miles just to get to. …Anyways…

Secondly, who's the note from? I looked around, to see James smiling at me. I smiled back.

What up, homie?

I guess Hana's ghetto-ness is rubbing off on me. Ugh. I threw it back. I heard a small laugh over our teacher's droning voice.

I think he read my note. He threw it back, and it landed on my desk, sliding over and falling off. I winced, and began to pick it up.

"Ms. Lee!" Okay, firstly, I'M NOT ASIAN! No offense, because I'm cool with all my Asian homies, (gah! HANA!) But I'm not Asian. I know, I know, 'Lee' is an Asian name, but I'm not Asian! It came from my Dad's side. He was adopted, and he married my mother, who kept his last name. So, that explains it. Oh right, back to my teacher, Mr. Unmack. "May I ask what you are doing?" I dropped my pencil in my hand onto the floor quietly.

"Picking up my pencil, sir. It fell." I picked it up and waved it at him. He glared at me before turning around and continuing his lesson. I gave a small sigh of relief, and picked up the note as well.

Don't go all gansta on me, yo. What are you doing tonight?

Is he asking me out?

Chillin' at my Asian homie's casa. Porque Scratch that. Why are you asking?

Great. I'm a Spanish-Gansta, yo.

Tengo miedo, casa perro.

A few minutes later of listening to Unmack (teacher, remember?) I had my answer.

Just wondering.

He can wonder all he wants.

"Okay class, just do your vocabulary due Thursday. And remember, To Kill A Mocking Bird analysis due in two weeks."

I seriously think my teacher is gay. He's chubby (somewhat plump) and watches Gilmore Girls. …He's forty and watches Gilmore Girls. And he openly admitted to loving his dog more then his wife.

I really need a schedule change.