A Big Surprise

Chapter One

"Hey!" I turn around to see my BFF, Lola.

"Whoa! Hey, Lola! What a coincidence! How ya been?" I questionebewilderedly.

"Weeall," she replies in the fake cow girl accent that she has. "Yesterday I ate a frog's leg, heart, and head because my mom made me. It's because her once-removed cousin is French. She's really proud of it, but it almost made me barf my guts out. I actually felt sick, and it feels like there's a needle poking me every time I lay down. Even when I sit down, I can feel my heartbeat on my butt. "

"Okaaay, that was too much information, but okay." I comment. "Oh, yeah! I forgot to tell you something. My mom just got a promotion, so she let me go on a shopping spree! I bought four pairs of jeans, nine shirts, five sweaters, six pairs of sweatpants, and four pairs of shoes! Now that I think about it, I should've bought more…."

"Yeah, you should've! Although I never knew that you liked to go shopping…."

I laugh and she grins proudly.

We then say goodbye, but then Lola adds something. "Hey remember about the report, okay? Our final report on China needs to get a C or higher, or else I'll fail the class. I already finished my part, and all you gotta do is write a three hundred word essay."

"Okay," I instantly promise, but in my head, I think, Uh oh, I'm bad at reports, and I forgot about it. And I didn't even start. And it's due tomorrow!

At night, I work really hard, but even I know that it isn't good. I know Lola would understand though, she's my best friend!

It turns out that we got a C-, and Lola's going to fail the class.

"The time line was just enough," Mrs. Kessler, our teacher, reports, "but the written report was failing. Lola, I'm sorry, but I'm afraid you'll have to take this class again. All your other reports, tests, homework, and in-class assignments got Ds or lower, and this was your last chance. All you needed was a C or more, but you got a C-. I'm sorry." To me, she chirps, "Nice job! You passed this class!" Then she walks away. I try to tell Lola that I'm sorry, but she never listens, just walks away.

Lola never spoke to me since then, and we live next door in our apartments! I guess she really is mad.

This year is my junior year. The incident was at the end of eighth grade, which would be about two and a half years ago. I have a new best friend, none other than Pricilla, the most popular girl in my grade! Isn't that exciting?

We're walking down the hall, arms loaded with books.

"O…M…G. Did you see Stephanie's butt? Did you see it? It was humongous! I swear, it could've taken up a whole entire zip code it was so FRICKIN' BIG!" Pricilla laughs. I laugh along with her.

She'd given me a new look. I used to love shopping, but I usually bought what she would call "ugly". Gone were the comfy, long, baggy jeans, over large t-shirts, ponytails, Converse, and tennis shoes. Now I had tight skinny jeans, mini-skirts, short-shorts, tank tops, cleavage-bearing scoop necks, V-necks, halter tops, tube tops, mini-dresses, curled hair, heels, flats, expensive sneakers, Converse (they're the only popular style that I used to wear) fish-net tights etc. I think you get the drill. My closet was full, and I would soon need another one.

"But do you see that guy over there? Hottie alert!" I point him out to Pricilla.

"More like a smokin' rapid fire!" She sighs dreamily. "He is just so…." She sighs again.

"Hot? Amazing?" I suggest. What I really was thinking was, Um, you barely know him, so why are you acting like he's your long-time crush?

"Yeah, but sooo much more than that. Let's flirt with him."

"What? No! How?"

"Okay, here's the game plan. We walk past him, and you trip. Your books go flying. He helps you, but then instantly notices me. He drops you like a hot potato. He and his other hot friends sit with us at lunch. You can have his best friend hottie, and I can have him."

"Uh… okay, sure. I don't think that guys have best friends, though. I always thought that they just have… buddies. Or do they call them…home dawgs?"

She waves her hand in a "whatever" gesture. "Okay, plan starts, now!"

She starts to glide daintily, while I walk normally. Actually, it's more like a clumsy tripping thing. Even in my Gold Glitter Converse, I'm a blundering animal.

When we get near him, I don't even have to try to trip, I just don't catch myself.

"OOMPH!" I crash to the ground, hard. While homework pages (I know! My first period teacher already assigned three pages of homework!) and books scatter across the hallway, I wince. There's a searing pain up my right arm and left calf.

I put my palms on the ground and push myself up into a kneel. The guy gets down, picks up my books, and then helps me up.

"Are you okay?" His eyebrows furrow together, which make him look even cuter.

I thrust his hands away from my elbows. I don't know why, but I don't like getting help from a guy, especially hot guys. It makes me feel like a weak little object. "Yeah, I'm okay, don't worry about lil' old me." I give him a crooked grin. "Thanks for picking up my stuff."

"No, don't thank me. I-"

Prissy interrupts him. "Yeah, she's not hurt, whatever. Anyways," she flips her long auburn (with fake gold highlights) hair over her shoulder and says in her seductive voice (we had practiced it with each other, although I don't think that I'd be using it, ever), "my name's Pricilla, but please call me Prissy. What's your name?" She leans against him, placing her hands on his chest.

"Uh, my name's…." He looks really uncomfortable, and for I second I thought that he was gonna give Prissy a fake name. "Joshua. Josh for short. Um, nice to meet you." He glances at me and asks, "I'm new here, do you think you could show me where my classes are?"

"Oh, yes, Joshua, I would very much like to show you where your next class is. What's the room number?" Prissy says before I can say anything.

Josh throws me a pleading look. "Uh, ah, let me check my schedule." Prissy remains pressed up to him. "It's in my front pocket," he adds. When Prissy still doesn't move, he continues, "You're in the way."

"Oh, sorry, let me get it for you." She reaches into his pocket,

He backs away in a flash. "No, thanks, I would rather do it myself." Before she could protest any longer, he tugs out a paper and reads out loud, "Subject: PE. Teacher: John Holmes."

"Oh, I have Mr. Holmes for PE this period, too!" I pipe up.

"Great! You could show me where the gym is!"

"Um, wouldn't you rather be escorted by," Prissy flutters her eyelashes, "moi?"

"Uh," Josh shifts awkwardly, "I don't want to be a hassle, so I'll just go with…" His eyes focus on me.

"Kaighlah." I smile up at him, "It's-"

Prissy interrupts me yet again. "Kay, Lah. Kaylah. It's pronounced KAY! LAH!"

Josh clears his throat. "Uh…yeah, she just said that, so, um, you didn't have to…tell me. Yeah…."

She laughs, and it sounds like that delicate music from those music boxes. "Yes, but not many people pronounce it right. It's a very weird name." I want to punch her in the face, but that would ruin my reputation, so I just imagine it.

I crack up at the image of me punching Pricilla, and it sounds nothing like her dainty giggles. Instead, it's a bunch of snorting and gasping for air. They both look at me funnily.

"You really think that? I for one think that it sounds exotic," Josh comments.

I stop guffawing. What did he just say?

"I said that I think your name sounds exotic," he repeats.

Oops. Did I say that out loud?

Yeah….You did. It sounded stupid.

SHUT UP, you…you… FREAK!

Um, you'rethe one talking to yourself.

Well, youare too, so ha ha!

I shake my head. Boy was I a wacky person. I mean, who else would argue with themselves?

"So anyways, I think that Kaighlah should show me around, since she already has that class. It just makes more sense…." He trails off.

She did her tinkly laugh again. "Oh, Joshua, I won't mind! Anyways, I usually walk Kaighlah to her classes anyway! So it'll be no big deal, right Kalie?" Kalie? Who was Kalie? Oh yeah, my new nickname that she gave me just a second ago. Anyways, that's such a horrible nickname! And what was this about walking me to my class? Total lie!

Prissy has a gigantic grin plastered to her face. It was pretty scary. But in a cute way. That's what happened when you were popular. Even if you covered in dirt and hadn't showered in a month, you would still look hot. Just in a dirty-but-cute way.

"Uh, yeah! She always walks me to my classes! She's like, the best friend ever!" I'm surprised that he doesn't notice that I'm lying through my clenched teeth. Or that my fingers are clenched so tightly that there'll probably be red half moons indented in my palms.

He looks at me quizzically. "Seriously? She does? In that case, we can all go together!" He gives me a broad smile that makes my insides melt into my Converse. I wonder if he has a girlfriend….

Prissy shoots me a glare and says sweetly, "Well, Kaighlah needs to go to her locker."

I got the message she was giving me: Back off.

"Yeah," I quickly agree. "I do. You guys go on ahead without me."

Josh laughs. "We don't need to do that! We'll just go with you!"

"No, you shouldn't! I don't want to waste your time!" I'm getting irritated. Why won't he just go with Prissy already?

He shakes his head. "Nope. We're going with you, and that's final! Plus, we still have seven minutes until the bell rings…."

"FINE! Let's just go already!" Pricilla grumps.

I lead them to my locker, which is only a few yards away. While I open it, Josh says, "See? No time wasted!" Prissy glowers.

Searching through the books neatly piled, I realize that I don't even need anything. Uh oh, what do I do now?

I slam the locker shut. "Um, never mind! I changed my mind. No need to get anything!"

"Okay, I'll lead the way to the gym then," Prissy chirps. She gets a good grip on Josh's arm and starts to drag him (prettily, of course) away. I follow close behind.

"Soooo, Joshie Woshie. When did you move here?" she asks him.

"Uh…." He looks down at her hand and tries to shake free from the grasp. No such luck. "In August."

"No wonder I didn't notice you! You came here so late! Where'd you come from?"

"Um, Wisconsin. How long have you lived here?" He was obviously just being polite, but it was the wrong thing to do. It was just adding fuel to Prissy's fire.

"My whole entire life. Do you have a girlfriend?"

Aaaand… BAM! There's the question she was working up to! Except she just flat out asked and it was random. Nope, no beating around the bush with this girl!

Josh looked away. "We just broke up."

"Oh my! That's too bad! I'm like, soooooo sorry!" she squeals. In reality, she doesn't sound sorry at all. She sounds excited and happy. I know because when she gets excited, she says things like like and stretches out her words, like when she said soooooo. It's kind of annoying. Scratch that, it's really annoying.

"Yeah," he says glumly in reply.

Awkward silence.

"So are you on the rebound?"

Great. She breaks the awkward silence with an even awkwarder (is that even a word? Probably not) question. Juuuuust great.

"No." His answer is short and simple, but also makes me feel disappointed. Not that I don't understand, because I totally do. Last school year I dated this totally awesome sophomore named JD. He was a totally hottie, and he made varsity basketball when he was a freshman. We got along really well and knew how to make each other laugh and everybody told us that we were perfect for each other. Cool, right?

But then he broke up with me six months (about a month ago) later, when he was moving to Australia. Two words: It. Sucked. I was in total depression until last week when Prissy threatened to kick my butt.

So now a guy is saying that he doesn't want to have a relationship in a while, and I understand because I was recently broken up with, but I'm still disappointed? What is wrong with me? Does that make me a - gulp - slut? Shudder. It's such a dirty word!

Anyways, Prissy stops dragging Josh and slides her hand from his arm down into his hand. He tenses up.

"Why not?" she whispers in his ear. He shudders.

"Because I'm still hurting over it," he confesses, and then snatches his hand back and backs away quickly, almost running into me. He catches himself at the last minute and then falls in step with me.

When I see Prissy's expression, I mentally laugh, but then she shoots me an evil death glare, as if she knows that I was inwardly laughing, and then I turn sober again, both inside and outside of me.

We walk down the hall in utter silence. Gosh, I really did hate awkward silences. I just needed to fill them up somehow!

"Uh, sooooooo. What's your schedule?" I blurt out.

"Me?" Josh asks, surprised.

"Who else?"

"Me, that's who!" Prissy cries.

"Well, you already showed me yours!" I argue.

She lifts up her chin and stares down at me. "I haven't shown Josh."

"Um, fine. Go ahead and tell us your schedule, then."

She beams and takes out her schedule from her butt pocket. "YAY! Okay, for first period I have English. Teacher: Joanne Kingery. Second period: Social Studies. Teacher: Luis Sanchez. Third Period: PE. Teacher: John Holmes. Awwww! Only one period away from having PE with you guys!" -by "you guys", she obviously means Josh- "Then I have lunch. Fourth period: Math. Teacher: Kim Albert. Fifth period: Science. Teacher: Karen Young. Sixth period: Speech and Debate. Teacher: Gary Patrick. Seventh period: Concert Choir. Teacher: Renee Shattuck. And that's my schedule. Now you tell us yours, Joshie!"

He just stands there, looking like a deer in the headlights. Then he takes out his schedule and reads from it. "Okaaay…. First period: Spanish. Teacher: Maria Goffena. Second period: PE. Teacher: John Holmes, as you guys already know. Third period: Math. Teacher: Hailey Sharpe. Then I have lunch-"

"EEEEEE! WE HAVE LUNCH TOGETHER!" Prissy squeals.

"Yeah, I guess we do…. Anyways, Fourth period: English. Teacher: Julia Gesink. Fifth period: Science. Teacher: Karen Young-"

"EEEEEE! WE HAVE THAT TOGETHER TOO!"

"Sixth period: Social Studies. Teacher: Henry Whicher. Seventh period: Concert Choir. Teacher: Renee Shattuck."

"OMG, We're together for like, THREE PERIODS TOGETHER! OMG! THIS IS FATE!"

"Okay, how about your schedule, Kaighlah?"

I jump. Wait, they actually want to know mine? That's a first. I start to read from the paper, "Sure, okay. First period: Spanish. Teacher: Lola Gonzalez. Second period: PE. Teacher: John Holmes. Third period: Social Studies. Teacher: Mary Cozart. Then I have lunch. Fourth period: English. Teacher: Julia Gesink. Fifth period: Math. Teacher: Hailey Sharpe. Sixth period: Science. Teacher: Harry Waddell. Seventh period: Concert Choir."

"Hmm… we only have two classes together. Choir and lunch. Bummer," she says, although she doesn't sound like she thinks it's a "bummer" at all.

"We have four classes together! That's great!" He grins at me.

"Yup, I guess we do!" I return his grin.

Suddenly, someone pushes me. "MOVE, IT PEOPLES!" Oh yeah, I forgot. We're in a hall.

We approach the gym. FINALLY!

"Well, this is your stop," Prissy says sadly. Then she perks up. "See you at lunch!"

"Okay, bye!" Josh and I say at the same time. Then we scurry into the gym.

"That's so weird. We're all in Concert Choir together!" Josh tells me.

"Yeah…." Truth is, Prissy forced me into joining Concert Choir. It's the toughest choir to get into, so we had to audition. I never want to do that ever again.

"You sing?" he asks.

"Kinda. You?"

"Yeah. It's too bad that you have a different teacher for Spanish. How many teachers are in this school anyways?"

I shrug. "A lot. There's about eight teachers for each subject."

"Seriously?" His eyes widen. "Then it's a miracle that we got four subjects together!"

"Yeah, but then we change classes next semester, because we get four electives." I pause. "Well, for some. We're gonna have Spanish and Concert Choir for the whole year, since they're year electives. If we chose something like, say, Drama, than that would only be half a year."

He nods. "I get it. So, what do we do now?"

Right on cue, Mr. Holmes steps out of his office. "EVERYBODY, ON THE BLEACHERS, NOW!"

We scurry to the bleachers. Mr. Holmes has a reputation for being mean. Very mean.

"Who is he?" Josh whispers.

"YOU!" Mr. Holmes points at Josh, with a vein popping out on his forehead. "NO TALKING UNLESS I GRANT YOU PERMISSION!"

Josh's eyes widen. "Y-yes, sir!"

"I SAID NO TALKING!"

ARGH! Why did Josh choose to sit at the front row of the bleachers?

"Anyways, before I was RUDELY INTERRUPTED" -pointed look at Josh- "I was going to say, WELCOME BACK! This semester I'm going to train you to be better! Faster! And stronger! There will be some kind of test EVERY THREE DAYS."

I gulp and look over at Josh at the same time that he looks at me worriedly. His eyes say the same thing that mine do: Shoooooooot!

"Today we won't dress down, because some people didn't bring uniforms. You can buy some uniforms on Friday. We will start the real stuff Next week on Monday, so you will need to bring your uniforms then. Also, you're getting your lockers on Thursday."

Say whaaaaat? Today was Tuesday! ARGH! STUPID TEACHERS! I. HATE. SCHOOL!

"Also, you kids will be running the two miles today, no exceptions. You should be glad that I'm going easy on you all."

? We don't even have our uniforms! What a meanie butt!

He checks his watch and adds, "I'll give you thirty seconds to get to the track. I'll be counting all of your laps, so you can't skip. If the bell rings and you haven't finished, keep on going. I won't write a note. If you don't want to be tardy, than run it quickly." He starts counting down from 30. LOUDLY.

"THIRTY! TWENTY-NINE!"

Josh and I sprint outside with our other class mates. Everybody's squeezing through the door. Talk about a traffic jam!

"How many laps are a mile?" Josh asks.

"Four," I grump.

We jog eight laps slowly, while talking. Anyways, we have 50 minutes to do so! He pretty much was going easy on us!

I don't know how, but Mr. Holmes actually counts our laps as we jog by. Does he have elephant memory or something?

We pass the line for the eighth time.

"YOU TWO! YOU'RE DONE! GET IN THE GYM!"

Obediently, we follow the directions. There's one thing running in my mind: MY FEET ARE KILLING ME! Why, oh why did I wear flats?

Both of us sit down on the front row of the bleachers, and I immediately take my shoes off and flex my sore toes. It took us 40 minutes to do the miles, so basically everybody is done.

"Kaighlah!"

I look up and see Hayden walking towards me.

"Oh, great. Look who's coming," I mutter. Josh sends me a questioning look.

"How was your summer?" he says when he stops in front of me. "Change your mind?"

"Sorry, no," I answer shortly. Hayden's a guy who's liked me since… well, forever. He's never given up. When he asked me out and I replied, "Sorry, I don't like you that way," he didn't get the hint and said back, "Well, let's go on a date to get to know each other!" Then I said, "Well, I don't really date," which was a lie, but I didn't want to be mean! He had said, "Let's change that!" and so on. I got to applaud him for his persistence, although it was EXTREMELY ANNOYING. At the end of the school year, he'd told me to at least consider going out with him. Um, never gonna happen. Sorry if I sound snobby, but I guess this guy just brings it out of me.

"Why not?" he pouts.

"Well, um, uh, I just don't think that it would work out. Yeah, that's it." Also, you're a creepy stalker! I want to add. But I don't, because that would be just plain rude.

"Oh." He sounds really disappointed. Great. I hate making people sad.

"Could we still be friends though?" I suggest.

"Yeah," he says glumly.

Someone clears their throat. Josh.

"Oh, yeah! Josh, this is Hayden! Hayden, this is Josh!" I try to sound cheerful.

"Hey, how's it going?" Josh is obviously trying to spark a conversation.

"Hey…. Not so well." Wow, he didn't even try to be unawkward.

"Uh, how did you meet Kaighlah?" Josh tries again.

"Math class. Then I asked her out continuously, but she rejected me every time I asked."

…. Wow, thanks for telling us, Hayden! You sure did lower the tension and awkwardness! Not!

"Ahahahaha…." –that was an uneasy laugh, for those who didn't know- "That's nice. So, who's excited for the new school year?" I pipe up.

Silence.

"Well, I guess everybody hates school as much as me, huh?" I laugh nervously again.

More silence.

I'm popular! I should know how to be a non awkward person, right?

WRONG! Prissy's the one who carries the conversation, not me! I just laugh and nod and sometimes add in a little comment. Oh, and don't forget about the occasional joke!

Actually, the only time I get to talk to Prissy for real is only when we're alone. It's pretty sad.

We sit there for what seems like eternity until Mr. Holmes finally blows the whistle and yells, "CLASS IS OVER!"

"Well, time to go!" I stand up and pick up my stuff.

I hurry out of the gym before anyone can say a word. Yes, I know. I just ditched Josh and Hayden. But hey! It was a life or death situation! And plus, I hate awkward silences! Who doesn't?

Then I remember. I still have lunch and two more classes with Josh! Also, I don't even know if I have any classes with Hayden (please, please, please no)!

I take my schedule and look at it. What do I have again?

Suddenly, I'm engulfed in a bear hug from behind. Screaming, I trip forwards and almost fall flat on my face from the weight. I spin around and face the person after they let me go, and then gasp.

"GRANT! Ohmygosh, YOU'RE BACK!" I grab his arms, and then we both jump up and down repeatedly.

"I'M BACK!" He's grinning like a maniac.

Okay, time for an explanation. You know when I said that Prissy's my best friend? Drumroll please…. Badadadadump (that was my drumroll). THAT WAS A LIE! Surprise, surprise!

Grant and I have been buddies since… well, forever. He was there for me when Lola gave me the cold shoulder, and he was my other best friend (I had two).

Then his parents sent him to a boarding school in England two years ago (beginning of freshman year). It was a teary moment, and we promised that we would always be best friends, no matter what. We even e-mailed each other, although it just wasn't the same as the whole flesh-and-blood version of him.

He looks me up and down, eyeing my dark jean short-shorts and scoop neck white tank top with gold glitter stars all over it. "Wow, Kay, you've really changed," is all he says. Despite the fact that he spent two years in England, he still has the full American accent.

I cross my arms defensively. "Is that a problem?"

He shakes his head quickly. "No, it was just a comment. Can I see your schedule?'

I roll my eyes while handing it to him. Typical of him to be totally random.

"Hey, we have four periods together!"

"Seriously? That's AWESOME!"

"Yeah, it is. Lunch, English, Science, and Choir! I didn't know that you sing!" he accused. Grant is the best singer ever. He would beat the Jonas Brothers or whoever any day. Really. Name a singer, any singer, and I can guarantee that he would beat them at singing. Not to sound braggy of my best friend or anything, but it's true! But he's super modest about it, so he would never agree.

"Well, actually…. My friend kinda forced me into it."

"WHAT?!"

"Um, but I'm sure I'll love it! Ehehehe…. Yeah…."

He sighs. "Fine, I'll let it go. But only because I haven't seen you in two years and plus, I don't want to get in a fight with you."

Right then the warning bell rings.

Shoooooooooot!

"We better get going. See you at lunch!" I start to dash to my next class, but then I remember that I don't have my books. After retrieving them, I realize that I didn't know where my class was.

After a minute of searching, I step into my class as the final bell rings. The teacher glares at me while I look around for a seat.

The only one open is the one next to…. Cruuuuuuud. Hayden is beckoning for me to sit near him.

I slump over to him and then plop in to the seat. My fantastic mood from my reunion with Grant is down the drain.

Hayden smiles at me. "Kaighlah! What a coincidence!"

"Yeah. Coincidence." I mutter.

"What was that?"

"Nothing…."

Throughout the period, Hayden tosses me notes and whispers to me, but I try to ignore it. Doesn't work. I'm listening to the teacher lecturing, and then suddenly, "I like your hair. It's the prettiest shade…." I just want to yell at him, "SHUT THE FREAK UP, YOU IDIOT! JUST SHUT! UP! IT'S THAT SIMPLE!"

The bell rings, and I bolt out of the class, but then the teacher yells, "CLASS IS NOT DISMISSED!"

I go back to my seat, and the teacher looks at me, then at everybody else. "You may not leave the class room until I properly dismiss you. Got it?"

We all not in unison, and she waits about a minute before saying, "Class is dismissed."

We all stand up and rush out of class. When I get to the cafeteria, I get into the lunch line. It's super long, no thanks to Third Period Teacher, and I wait ten minutes before getting my lunch.

Spotting Grant, I wave at him and hurry over to him.

"Where're we gonna sit?" he asks, frowning.

Right on cue, Josh and Prissy are in front of me.

"Kaighlah! We were looking for you!" Josh huffs.

I smile sheepishly. "Sorry, long lunch line."

"Well, whatever, let's get to our table!" Prissy urges.

Grant gives me a look that says, "Who are these people?"

I whisper, "My friends. I'll explain later."

We sit down, and Brandon Murphy hoots, "WOOT! LOOK, IT'S PRISSY AND KAIGHLAH!"

I blush while Prissy flips her hair. How… charming. Both of them are just so charming.

Grant's face says it all: he's super confused. Oh well, whatever.

"So, who're these punks?" Brandon points at Josh, than Grant.

"Well," Prissy twirls some hair around her index finger. "This is Josh. And I don't know who he is, but it's nice to meet ya." She gives a sideways glance and coy smile at Grant.

The reason why she's acting like this is because Grant is newly hot. The last time I saw him, he was a skinny, awkward guy, although he had the best eyes ever. Over the two years that he was away, he obviously hit puberty. He isn't steroids muscly or wimpy, I would know because when he hugged me and I got a hold of his arms, they were pretty built (once again, not like the steroids built). He still has those incredible green eyes like Sharbat Gula's that are framed with incredibly long lashes, he's a golden tan, and his hair's kinda like Chace Crawford's, except it's dark brown and red. I know, it's so unfair! He has natural highlights!

The reason why I didn't mention the fact that he was a hottie was because I didn't really notice until now.

And now that I do notice…. Wow. He is one hot guy. Believe me, usually I'm not this shallow, but I think anyone would be acting like this if they saw Grant.

Anyways, Grant starts to introduce himself. "Um… hey, I'm Grant. Uh, I'm Kaighlah's friend from a long time ago, and um, I just got back from England. Yeah, that's it…."

His speech is like one that a new kid had to give his class. Yeah, it's that awkward.

"So, who's excited for the school year?" I ask for the second time that day. You could say that it's my ice-breaking question.

"Definitely not me!" Janice, the head cheerleader, pipes up.

"Well, I'm not sure about the rest of you, but I'm excited. I get more time to hang out with friends!" Prissy squeals.

Um… sure. That's very believable, because you can't hang out outside of school (note the sarcasm).

"Seriously? Because I hate school!" I blurt out. Oops. I'm not supposed to disagree with Prissy, and sometimes I forget that. "I mean, yeah, totally! School is so fun! Who doesn't love it?"

I look at Prissy to see if that was enough backpedaling. She just smiles smugly.

"Oh yeah! We didn't introduce ourselves!" She claps her hands in joy. "I'm Priscilla, but please call me Prissy."

"And I'm Brandon," he volunteers.

"I'm Kerry." She flips her long black hair over her shoulder, but it looks difficult because she has a lot of it and it's super long.

"Yo, I'm Cameron." He nods in Grant's direction, and then flips his blonde hair the way that Justin Bieber does. It's pretty confusing, because while he says that he hates Justin Bieber, he copies his hairstyle. How very interesting.

The introductions last for a long time, and when it's over, the bell rings. Lunch is over. Great. I walk over with everybody else to the garbage cans and dump my half eaten cheese pizza, apple sauce, and skim milk into it. I'm a vegetarian, and I only like skim milk. The taste of whole milk just… revolts me. I don't know why, I just don't like the taste of any type of fat.

"Okay, time for," I glance at my schedule once again, "English."

"Oh yeah, we have that together!" Josh exclaims.

"Yeah, so do we…." Grant eyes Josh warily as if to say, "Can you please stop stalking us now?"

"Yeah…. It's gonna be fun, huh, guys?" I twine and untwine my fingers nervously.

"Sure," they both say in unison. Creeeeepy.

With that, we head off to Room 104, leaving everybody else behind.

I'm sitting in the back row, with Josh on my right side and Grant on my left. Grant's passing notes while Josh is doodling on his binder cover.

So. Those were your friends?

I smile faintly and scribble:

Yes. Like them?

My eyes bulge out in horror as he rubs his head after I toss it at his head. I don't mean to, but I have the worst aim ever. Never trust me with a football or soccer ball in gym.

He writes something and throws the note. It hits me square on the forehead. I shoot him a dirty look. He's had the perfect aim since forever, so that was no accident.

Eh, they seem… different than your other friends. I don't like that Prissy girl or that Josh guy either.

That's because they are different. DUH! And how could you not like Prissy? She's obviously in love with you already.

Already?

Yes, already. If you haven't noticed, you've gotten significantly good looking in the past two years.

I pass the note before I can think. Did I just write what I think I just wrote?

Apparently, because Grant's eyes are boggling out of his head (Not, really, just being dramatic). Then he smirks.

You think I'm cute? How touching.

When did I say you were cute? I said good looking. And that's not my opinion, it's Prissy's. She's wrong though. You're still as ugly as two years ago.

I mean for it to be teasing, but since I write it instead of saying it, he doesn't know that the message comes with a teasing tone of voice. He frowns.

Wow. I may not have changed, but you sure have. When did you get so… mean? And what's up with your clothes? Shorts and a tank top?

Wow, thanks for the advice, Dad. Why would you care what I wear anyways? We're just friends.

It takes a while for him to write back, and his expression is pained.

That's what you call our friendship? Just?

I didn't mean it like that. I'm sorry.

You better be.

And just like that, I'm forgiven. That's another thing that I love about Grant. He's can't stay mad for more than a day.

Don't worry, I am.

So how did you meet her?

Meet who?

Sendy. Who else?

Well, I was sitting in class and then she came up to me and said, "What's wrong with your ugly clothes?" Then I replied, "What's wrong with your ugly face?" After that she invited me to a party and we've been attached to the hip ever since.

… That's interesting? Is that what I'm supposed to say?

Hey! It was a weird way to start a friendship, but still! It's not as weird as how we met.

True, true. "I like your train."

I smile as I read the note. How we first met is my first memory. It's crazy, because we were both only two, and the memory's clear as day.

Okay, here's the story. I'll put it as a play. Also , I'll add translations for the unreadable baby talk.

Characters:

Me

Grant

My mom

Grant's mom

Place: Grassy field at a local park

Me: (playing with toy train) Twoo choo!

Grant: (waddles up to me) I wike you twain.

Me: (looks up at him) It mwine, no you's.

Grant: (eyebrows knit together worriedly) Oo (You) no wet (let) me pway ith (with) oo?

Me: (snubs him) Woe (no). My (Mine), no you's.

Grant: (makes tantrum face) I (Why) naw (not)?

Me: 'Ecuz it mwine!

Grant: (starts to cry loudly) I… awnt to… to… PWAAAAAY!

Me: (seeing that he's crying, start to cry myself) WAAAAH!

Mom: (who was sitting next to me the whole time) Honey, honey, calm down! (Picks me up and rubs me on the back)

Grant's mom: (rushing up to us) There you are! I've been looking all over for you! No more running off, okay Grant? (Picks him up and pats him on the back calmly)

Me: (wailing reduced to hiccups)

Grant's mom: (noticing us) See Grant? She's a big girl, now, isn't she? You can stop crying, can't you?

Grant: (stops crying and starts hiccupping) Me big oy (boy). Ee (She) no ware (share) oy (toy). (Points accusing finger in my direction)

Me: (stares at him pointing and glaring at me) WAAAAH! (Starts crying again)

Grant's mom: Now look what you've done! (To my mom) I'm sorry, my son seems different today. First he just ran away, and now he's being mean to other toddlers.

Mom: No, no need to apologize. I completely understand.

Both moms: (start to chatter, delighted to know that there're other women who understand them)

Me: (stops crying and hiccupping)

(Both moms sit down and gently place both kids on soft grass)

Me: (glares at Grant) Mwy (My) twuck. (Unlike Grant, I hold long grudges)

Grant: Me sowwy (sorry).

Me: Yeh (Yes) oo (you) er (are).

And the reset is history. My mom and his mom found out that we live near each other, and they started setting up play dates. They both became great friends, and Grant and I grew closer everytime we saw each other.

No, you said it more like, "I wike 'or twain."

Sure, sure, whatever.

The bell rings. YAY! I walk out of the classroom with Grant, and then stop when someone calls my name. Oh yeah, Josh. Forgot about him. My bad.

"So, what class do you have next again?" he asks, looking hopeful.

"Uh… I think Math."

"Oh." Both of their faces fall, even though Josh is the one who asked. I don't even know why they would be disappointed. It's just me, after all!

"Yeah… but we have Science together," I nudge Grant, "And then we all have Choir together!" I beam at both of them. Problem solved.

Instead of smiling at least a tad bit, their scowls darken. Wow, moody much?

"Great." Grant sounds sarcastic, which is totally not the way he is.

"Yeah, fantastic." Josh also sounds sarcastic, but I've learned that that is the way he is.

I remember something, and then snap my fingers. "Oh yeah, but don't you have next period with Prissy? That's good, right Josh?"

"Yes, very good."

"Sarcastic much?" Grant and I ask at the same time. We've known each other so long that we can basically read each others minds, even though we haven't talked face-to-face in so long.

"JIN 10 YOU OWE ME A COKE!" we both exclaim at the same time. I had been waving my arms up and down like chicken wings (minus the hands in the armpits. Plus, my hands are flat out) when I had been screaming, because I just do that when I try to get something out faster. Yes, it's weird, and no, I am most definitely not crazy.

In the process, my elbows hit a bunch of people and send their stuff flying.

"Ohmygosh, I'M SO SORRY!" I kneel down and help the person nearest to me. I'm known as one of the nice popular people, and I want to live up to the name.

Somebody pushes me roughly on my shoulders.

"Don't you dare help me," a deep voice hisses.

I look up, surprised. Then I see who knocked into, and my face probably turns whiter than snow (I wouldn't know, I can't see myself).

It's a burly guy wearing a white tank top and basketball shorts. He has lots of facial hair, and I can see his eight-pack through the thin material of his shirt. Is he seriously a high school student? I don't think so. Maybe he was held back a grade? No, make that held back four grades.

"Uh, um, uh," I stammer. "I-I'm r-r-r-really s-sorry. S-super so-so-sorry."

He elbows me away again as I try to resume helping him. "Apology not accepted. Now leave me alone. I'm not afraid to hit a girl." When I don't move, he grips my arm and forcefully pulls me to my feet, just to shove me forward. I stumble forwards, and as I do, I land on the side of both my feet, and I hear a slight POP! To make matters worse, my head knocks hard into the near concrete wall, and I cry out in pain while crumbling down to the ground.

"HEY, JERK! Just what exactly do you think you're doing, stupid idiot?! That was really mean!" Grant gets down next to me gracefully and pulls me into his arms protectively.

The stranger grunts. "What, do you want? This is a private conversation."

Grant just glares. "It looked more than just a conversation. Violence is not the answer! Must I say again, that was a really immature thing to do! You're in high school, moron! You should know better!"

I stare up at my best friend in wonder. When had he become so… so… guard-like? Yes, I know. That was a lame description, but whatever. Also, violence is not the answer? What kind of crack is he smoking?

"No kind, drugs are bad!" he declares.

"Say what?" I question.

"You asked, 'What kind of crack is he smoking?' So I answered, 'No kind-"

"I said that out loud?" I interrupt.

"Yes, you did!" He sounds impatient.

"Well-" A headache suddenly splits my head in two. I let out a yelp and start whimpering. I don't mean to, of course, but the whimpers just come out. I put both of my hands over my mouth and try to muffle the sound, because I don't want to seem or sound like a weakling.

"You okay?" Grant's face is showing that he's obviously concerned.

Somebody clears their throat. "Sorry, to break up your love session, but I told you to leave, NOW!"

Now, now, now, now. It rings in my ears.

I start to shiver uncontrollably. I don't want to admit it, but I'm actually really scared of the guy. Crazy boys these days….

"Hey! Stop being so loud!" Grant hisses.

Stranger guy just sneers.

"He's right." Josh steps forward and shakes his head disappointedly. "Just leave her alone."

Stranger guy grunts.

"Stop being a dickhead and leave us alone," Grant snarls, "Or else."

"I'll take my chances." Stranger dude is leering down at us.

BRIIIIIIIIIING!

"We gotta get to class!" I sit up straighter, but then my head starts to throb, so I slump back.

The stranger picks up his stuff. "I'll let it go this time, but if that chick ever shows her face again, I won't hold back to any of you." Then he turns on his heels and saunters away, and I immediately stop shaking all over.

"Do you need to go to the nurse's office?" Grant asks me softly.

I shake my head quickly, but when the pain starts, I stop and start to rub my forehead tiredly.

Grant rolls his eyes and looks over at Josh. "Can you help me get her over to the nurse's office?"

Josh nods and they both lift me up.

"I can walk!" I argue.

But I'm proven wrong when my feet start to drag on the ground. Greeaat. Now I can't even move my feet.

We arrive at the main office and they march inside, towing me along.

"I think she twisted her ankles, and she also has a huge headache, so can you tell us where the nurse's office is?" Grant gets straight to the point.

"Please," Josh adds almost as a second thought.

The secretary huffs and says emotionlessly, "It's right there." She points at a door with a sign that reads "NURSE'S OFFICE".

"Oh. Thanks." They both start to drag me towards the bright red door. For a room where hurt people go to, it seems awfully cheerful. I wouldn't know, because this is the first time that I've ever been in the nurse's office.

Grant opens the door, and a lady pops up in front of us immediately. I stifle a startled scream.

"Hello," her pleasant voice coos. "What can I do for you kids today? Who's hurt?"

"Um, hi. I think I might've twisted both of my ankles, and I also have a big head-"

"TWISED ANKLES?" she interrupts me by screaming.

"Yes. Could you please try to not yell? It's giving me a worse headache."

"Oh, yes, sorry. Come in." To my companions, she directs them, "Lay her down over there." She points at the corner, where a cot is.

When I'm successfully placed on the small bed, the young nurse tells me to take my sneakers and socks off. That proves difficult, because it hurts badly when I slip my Converse off.

Wincing, I peel off (literally) my froggie socks and try not to start crying.

"Oh, this is bad." She's gently turning my foot to look at each side. My ankles look red, puffy, and throbbing. She nods confirming something to herself. "Here's what you have to do. Rest your foot for 48-72 hours. Then put some cloth around an ice pack and put it on your ankle for twenty minutes every hour, but for only three hours. After that put an elasticated bandage on both ankles from your toes to the middle of your lower leg, but don't make it too tight or too loose. Finally, you need to elevate both ankles. It needs to be at heart level, and the best way to do this is to lie down and balance your ankles on a couple of pillows. You need to elevate your feet for a few days or more."

Hmm…. She seems to know a lot about sprained ankles….

"Oh yeah, and you should probably stay home until your ankles are better."

"WHAT?!" I screech.

"Nevermind, just go get some crutches." Phew! She almost gave me a heart attack! "Anyways, go home right now," she orders.

"Uh, I don't have a ride…." I avert my eyes embarrassedly.

"I'll drive you," Grant suggests.

"Okay," I agree quickly. For some reason, Josh glares at him.

"Yeah, but first call your parents," the nurse says.

She hands me the phone that's next to the sink, and I dial my mom's number.

After I talk to my mom and then hang up the phone, both of the guys get a school pass from nurse and then haul me up.

As they help me through the hall and out the school doors, the tension gets higher and higher. Finally, we reach Grant's sleek, black car, and he unlocks it.

I'm in awe. He owns a freaking Toyota Prius! Do you know how much those cars costs? Like, $24,000! Although it is my dream car…. At least it's a hybrid.

He opens the door, for me, and the scent of cinnamon hits my face with a POW! Hmm… he's pretty organized too. This guy is just too perfect; it's starting to get annoying.

I slide veeeeeeeery slowly to avoid pain into the passenger seat. "'Kay, thanks Josh. See you tomorrow!"

He waves as Grant pulls out of the parking lot, and then disappears out of sight.

"So, do you live where you used to?" he asks.

"Yeah. You still remember where it is?"

"Well, duh. I used to live in that neighborhood, too, remember?"

"Oh, okay."

We sit in a comfortable silence, and Grant turns on the radio softly. "4 Minutes to Save the World" by Madonna and Justin Timberlake ends, and then the song "Lucky" by Jason Mraz and Colbie Callait starts to play.

Do you hear me? I'm talking to you
Across the water across the deep blue ocean
Under the open sky, oh my, baby I'm trying

Boy I hear you in my dreams
I feel your whisper across the sea
I keep you with me in my heart
You make it easier when life gets hard

I'm lucky I'm in love with my best friend
Lucky to have been where I have been
Lucky to be coming home again
Ooh ooh ooh

They don't know how long it takes
Waiting for a love like this
Every time we say goodbye
I wish we had one more kiss
I'll wait for you I promise you, I will

I'm lucky I'm in love with my best friend
Lucky to have been where I have been
Lucky to be coming home again

Lucky we're in love in every way
Lucky to have stayed where we have stayed
Lucky to be coming home someday

And so I'm sailing through the sea
To an island where we'll meet
You'll hear the music fill the air
I'll put a flower in your hair

Though the breezes through trees
Move so pretty you're all I see
As the world keeps spinning 'round
You hold me right here, right now

I'm lucky I'm in love with my best friend
Lucky to have been where I have been
Lucky to be coming home again

I'm lucky we're in love in every way
Lucky to have stayed where we have stayed
Lucky to be coming home someday

Ooh ooh ooh
Ooh ooh ooh, ooh

For some reason, it starts to get awkward after that song. STUPID RADIO!

We get to my house, and instead of just stalling his car, he parks it.

"Wow, your house has changed a lot."

I shrug. "Eh. Houses change."

He gets out of the car and opens the passenger door for me, and then helps me get out.

Staggering, I sling an arm around his shoulder, and we hobble to my garage, where I dial in the password. With a rumble, it opens, and we wobble in and open the door that connects the garage to the kitchen.

"Hey, you redecorated your kitchen!" He sets me down on a nearby stool, and drags up another one so I can prop my feet up on one.

"Yeah…. Is that a bad thing?"

"No, it's just that I'm not used to it like this. When I think of your kitchen, I picture tile floors, cream walls, an oak dining table, etc. Now look! Hardwood floor, red walls, and a cherry wood table! It's just so… so… different!"

I groan. "Are we seriously having a conversation about my kitchen? Let's talk about something else. How was England?"

He shrugs. "Eh, so-so. I was in boarding school basically the whole time, so I didn't really get to tour all of the famous places."

"Boooooooring! You are so totally lying! You said that it was a coed school, right? Tell me aaaaaall about the girls! Are they any different from us American teenage girls? What were their trends? Did they wear jeans? Oooooo, I got a good one! How did they do their hair?"

Grant's still processing my bombing of questions after five seconds.

"Helloooo? Did you hear me?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Well, basically, they were the same, except with accents."

"Oh." Even I could feel my face fall.

"Hey, don't be sad! Your style and hair's pretty! You don't need to change!" By the way that he's eyeing my shorts and tank top, it's pretty obvious that he does think that I need to change, and that he's saying all those nice things just to make me feel better.

I can't take it anymore. I mean, between the big scary guy, twisting my ankles, everything with Hayden, and now Grant not liking my style? It's waaaaaaay too eventful for one measly day. No, make that a little more than half a day. For Pete's sake, it's only 1:45!

Right there, I break down. Like, tears, blotchy and swollen eyes, red nose, running snot, everything.

Grant stands there, wide-eyed.

And why shouldn't he? If your friend just started to cry like a big idiot baby, you would be surprised too, right?

I thought so.

"What's the matter? Did I say something?"

"No… sorry, I'm such a baby. Can you hand me a tissue?"

He hands me a tissue and says, "No, you're not a baby. You just-"

I don't hear what he says next because I blow my nose really hard. My head feels dizzy, like I'm about to faint. "Look, can you just… leave?"

"What? No-"

"Just go!"

He pauses, but then nods and leaves, leaving me sitting there in my misery.