Same Love

And I can't change
even if I tried
even if I wanted to.
My love, my love, my love,
she keeps me warm.

- Macklemore x Ryan Lewis (Same Love)

1. The New Girl in Town

A new school year equaled a fresh start, that was what my mother had kept telling me for a good majority of my life, and just like last year, the year before that, and the year before that, I still didn't quite believe it.

Today was the start of my senior year, that final year of high school that was supposed to be filled with parties that lasted into all hours of the mornings, special events specifically for seniors, and the final dance, senior prom. The latter of which I would not be attending.

In all actuality, I would not be participating in any of the aforementioned events. In my entire existence, specifically my high school existence, I had not been known for participating in much. I, Kaia Ann Rhodes, was best known for my anonymity; wait, that wasn't the right word. It was more like I was known for being the 'leper' of high school, the girl everyone stayed away from because they thought they could catch my 'incurable disease'.

That incurable disease being my homosexuality. My brevity had caused me to 'come out of the closet' in eighth grade, a decision I had never regretted, per say, but a decision that had certainly not earned me a spot at the top of the social ladder.

You see, in a town as small as the one I grew up in and currently resided in, as unfortunate and true though it was, anyone different was not accepted.

So, basically, I was the social pariah of my high school, a fact that was the exact reason I tended to avoid school events by any means necessary.

"Kaia!" Ellie's, my mother's, voice traveled up the stairs, dragging me from my somewhat cynical and depressing thoughts. I forced myself out of my bed and slipped my feet into my cozy, pink, fuzzy slippers, plastering a smile on my face as I made my way down the stairs, through the family room, and into the kitchen where my mother was flipping sausages in a skillet.

I breathed in deeply, allowing the delicious smell of sausage, bacon, and eggs to fill my nostrils before exhaling and greeting my mom with a "Good morning" and a kiss on the cheek.

Shuffling my fuzzy slipper-clad feet, I walked over to the sink and opened the dishwasher, located directly underneath the sink (obviously), grabbing myself a clean glass from inside. Once I had sat the glass on the counter, I opened the fridge and retrieved the orange juice from the bottom shelf, pouring myself a glass before returning the orange juice to its rightful spot. My mom had a weird system for organizing not only the fridge, but every cabinet, drawer, closet, and the like. I often teased her about her Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, but she, more often than not, denied having such a disorder.

"Where's James?" I questioned conversationally, trying to keep the bitterness out of my voice. It turned out to be a wasted effort, per usual. I was not generally a bitter person. Most of those who actually took the time to get to know me despite my so-called 'disease' actually referred to me as one of the nicest human beings they had ever crossed paths with, not that I would go so far as to agree with them one-hundred percent, but still, I was generally an all-around American Sweetheart.

It was just that the one topic that managed to make me bitter were my mother's boyfriends. I had grown up without a father considering mine had hightailed it out of my mother's life after finding out he had knocked her up, so naturally, I had gotten used to not having a man around and when my mother had started dating a few years ago, I had gotten into the routine of hating her boyfriends on principle alone.

Were my reactions justified? Probably not, but sometimes I think my mother forgot that I was a teenager because of how mature I had been known to act.

Regardless of my maturity level, a teenager was still a teenager and I was a teen who had grown up without a father and therefore, I was the cliche who had 'daddy issues'. Warming up to men had never exactly been my strong suit.

My mother clucked her tongue and I cringed. She knew I hated it when people clucked their tongues against the roofs of their mouths. It was my number one pet peeve.

"Out," was her curt response. I decided not to push the matter further lest she yell at me. Generally, we got along and I was already dreading the rest of the day, I did not want to start it off with an argument at home.

Deciding not to dwell on my mother's love life any longer or my impending doom (dramatic, yes, but I felt inclined to a dramatic thought or two every once in a blue moon considering how well put-together I normally was), I grabbed my orange juice off the counter and seated myself at the small glass table at the far end of our decent-sized kitchen. Considering that it was just the two of us (or rather, what was seemingly turning into the three of us, what with James having been around every single day for the past two and a half months), my mom had not felt the need to buy a huge table for more than four people. Even the four person table seemed a bit pointless. To me, anyway.

A few minutes after I had seated myself, my mother turned off the stove and grabbed a couple of clean plates from the dishwasher. I had a habit of washing the dishes and placing them in the dishwasher, never to place them in the cabinets, a habit that annoyed my mother greatly considering it put a dent in her organization.

She made us both a plate of bacon, eggs, and sausage, placing my plate in front of me and handing me utensils before seating herself in the chair directly across from me. I thanked her silently before digging into my delicious breakfast, savoring the taste of greasy food on my tongue. To me, there was nothing quite like the mixture of carbs and orange juice for breakfast. It was a wonder how I managed to stay so entirely skinny despite my exhibiting the eating habits of a growing teenage boy.

"Are you excited?" my mother asked after a beat of silence. I paused in the process of lifting my fork with a bite of sausage ready to meet my taste buds in order to process her question.

I could see by the look on her face that she wanted an honest answer. I would not get away with lying, something that I had learned at an early age. However, before I was given a chance to answer, there was a beep from outside our house, startling me enough to cause me to drop my fork, which landed with a 'clank' that caused me to jump once more.

My mother's amused grin was noted as I jumped out of my seat. "Kaia, what about your-" I did not give her a chance to finish her question as I ran over to the window and opened it, shouting, "Out in fifteen!" before racing up the stairs to my bedroom and slipping out of my night clothes. I grabbed a plain mahogany v-neck t-shirt and a pair of dark wash jeans from my closet and managed to dress, brush out the tangles in my hair, pull my hair into a high ponytail, and slip on my shoes in a matter ten minutes. Something that not most teenage girls, or women in general, were not capable of.

Once I was downstairs, my mom handed me my coat and my purse, for which I thanked her before practically sprinting out the front door and jumping into Holden's car (he drove a convertible so the jumping thing wasn't exactly an exaggeration). Holden being the person who had beeped nearly fifteen minutes prier, in case that weren't already obvious.

"Morning, sleepyhead," Holden greeted me, patting my head affectionately. I scrunched up my nose, bemused by the gesture. It was likely I would never get used to any affection that was offered to me by anyone other than my mother. I had been pretty much friendless before I had met Holden the summer before my freshmen year when he had moved into the house a couple of houses down from mine. His quirky personality, boyish hairstyle, and piercing grey eyes had earned us another friend in the form of a fiery redhead named Isabella Johnson and befriending Isabella had thus forced us to befriend the skater boy punk with more piercings than should be necessary, Darren Laurence.

The three of them made up my three friends and three meant three. Like I stated before, it was hard finding people to accept my sexuality in a town full of close-minded people, some churchgoing and some not. You didn't have to go to church to hate different around here, it seemed. Close-mindedness wasn't always a side effect of believing in God, I truly believed that and the people in my town were proof of that considering even Atheists and persons of other religions criticized 'my kind.'

"Morning, douche bag," I piped up once he had started the car and pulled out of my driveway onto the street. "Ready for the first day of what is supposed to be the most exciting year of our lives?" The look of disgust that flashed across his face was enough of an answer. "Obviously not," I grumbled, and then began the ranting, something I had a habit of doing. "Y'know, it baffles me, and kind of annoys me, that everyone invests so much time into their senior year. I mean, seriously, what makes senior year so special compared to the rest of high school? So, it's the final year? Why is that a reason to celebrate? Sure, there are parties and the dances are supposedly more special because it is the last time we get to see each other and all, supposedly," I was aware that the word 'supposedly' had already left my mouth, but repetition was a 'side effect' of ranting, "but there are also exams and lots of tests before those exams and college applications and then actual college once summer ends, so-"

"Please quit talking," Holden interrupted my rant, taking a left at a stop sign to turn onto the street that led to the high school, his eyes fixated on the road. It amazed me how my never-ending rants seemed to not ever distract him from his driving. I supposed this was a good thing. It was less likely I would ever get into an accident on the way to school or coming back from school with an attentive driver in the driver's seat.

Calling him attentive was saying something. After all, not many teenage boys were known for being attentive nor responsible, both of which Holden had a habit of proving himself to be. Just another reason I liked him, and no, I had never just liked him simply because he was the one person who had ever taken the time to look past my sexuality and get to know the real me.

That had simply been a bonus.

I huffed indignantly and crossed my arms over my chest, staring straight ahead as he pulled into the student parking lot of our high school. Each student who drove had an assigned spot. Holden pulled into his and stopped the car, not getting out after he did so.

When he looked at me, his expression was serious. It almost caught me off guard. Almost. I managed to hide my shock however and raised an eyebrow at his sudden change in demeanor. "You can't fool me, Rhodes," he started, his tone softer than I was used to and I pressed my lips together, suddenly dreading whatever it was he had to say. "Don't tell me you aren't excited about this year. It means you can make a quick getaway out of this town afterwards. You can't seriously tell me that isn't what you intend to do and be telling the truth. I hate liars." He stared at me, a dare in his eyes, but after a moment, I tore my gaze from his, completely ignoring what he had said.

"Shut up and get out of the car." My voice was quiet. I didn't like to lose my temper, though that was honestly what I had felt like doing at that moment, but I had never been one for losing my cool and I wasn't about to start now just because my best friend had pointed out something about me I didn't want to accept.

That wasn't to say I didn't have those moments where I flew off the handle. Of course I did. Everyone did and anyone who said that they didn't was clearly a liar.

"We don't have all day," I added when all Holden did was keep staring at me super intensely. Continuing to ignore him, I unbuckled my seat belt and climbed out of the car, slamming the door shut behind me to make a statement. For the first time since we had befriended each other, I did not wait for Holden to fall into step behind me and follow me into the school.

XXX

Isabella met up with me at my locker. One good thing about this school was that we never had to change lockers so that made it easy for all of us to remember one, where our lockers were, and two, where our friends lockers were.

I looked at my watch (yes, I was one of those outdated freaks who still wore a watch even though I did have a cell phone) before saying hello to Isabella. There were about ten minutes left before the first bell of the day was set to ring.

"Holden texted me." I groaned. Of course he did. I made a mental note to tease him about tattling on me to his girlfriend whenever I saw him next. According to our schedules, that would not be until lunch.

I allowed myself to meet Isabella's gaze. Her bright emerald green eyes were sparkling with amusement. "Don't worry, I told him he's an asshat for bombarding you with serious, emotional talk at this ungodly hour. He'll apologize. If he knows what's good for him."

"Don't get me wrong, I love the boy," I started in a teasing tone, "but what made you want to date him again, exactly? Because I honestly do not see the appeal." That was a lie. Obviously. Holden was a good guy and he was physically appealing to the human eye. Just because I could never bring myself to sleep with a boy did not mean that I couldn't find a boy attractive.

It was just that I could never picture myself partaking in a physical act with the opposite sex. For example, kissing a male or sleeping with one in any other way that involved everything but actual sleeping did not appeal to my libido.

Anyway, my point was, I could see why a girl would find themselves attracted to Holden. "Really, you should just break up with the poor soul and be with me already. I know you're totally in love with me." I did not say any of this with a straight face. I never could. It was a joke between myself and Isabella that we'd had since our sophomore year when some jerk had spread rumors that we were dating (because, obviously, a straight girl could never be friends with a lesbian without being like, a secret lesbian). Isabella had made a show in the cafeteria of professing her undying love to me and I had played along. We were given detention, but a couple of hours under the strict watch of Vice Principal Mathers had been so worth it see the looks of incredulity on our classmate's faces.

"I'll keep that in mind," Isabella said flatly, but I could see that her lips were twitching and that she was fighting back a smile. Eventually, she gave in and grinned down at me. I was an inch or two shorter than her.

I opened my mouth to say something else, but the bell rang and whatever thought that I'd had in mind slipped away. "That's our cue," was the last thing I said before heading off to my first class of the day, AP Chemistry, something I was, admittedly, not looking forward to.

XXX

There was a new girl. That was my first thought upon entering the AP Chemistry lab. This was made obvious for two reasons. One of those reasons being that everyone seemed to be gazing at her and it was not every day that an entire classroom of teenagers was staring at one person, at least not in this town where everyone knew everyone, and two being my previous statement, everyone knew everyone and I did not know this girl. Nor did anyone else. So clearly, the general consensus to be reached was that she was the new girl in town.

Another thing I noticed was that she was at the only lab table with an unoccupied seat. I was not typically a shy kind of girl, but there had not been a new student at my high school since my freshmen year and that person had been Holden who was a boy and not a girl. History had shown to me that girls had a better sense of judging my sexuality and I just did not want to be stared at like a freak by a girl who didn't even know me.

I knew I was getting ahead of myself and it wasn't like my appearance screamed lesbian or anything, but still...

Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to calm down and my mind to shut up and approached the lab table. I placed my books on the table and then sat down on the highly uncomfortable stool. "Hi," I greeted the new girl, whoever she was, quietly. Either she hadn't heard me or she was ignoring me. I was sure I hadn't spoken that quietly so I opted for the latter.

Upon closer inspection, I nixed my previous thought. The girl had headphones in her ears and she was focusing intently on her notebook, which she was furiously writing in. I averted my gaze from her notebook, not wanting to seem nosy. She would look up whenever she felt like it, and as it turned out, she felt like it as soon as the teacher walked in, the door slamming shut behind him.

I turned my head, expecting her to still be listening to her music, but her ear buds and iPhone were now shoved underneath her binder. Just as I opened my mouth in another attempt to greet her, she turned her head, as if just now sensing my presence, and met my gaze.

It was in that moment that I swear my life changed forever. It was her eyes, that was the first attribute I noticed; they were a striking color of blue, as deep as the ocean, with specks of grey. They were eyes to rival Holden's and I had spent the majority of my high school career believing that I would not ever meet anyone with eyes as beautiful as Holden's.

Eyes as beautiful as hers, I was convinced they could see into souls, that they could see things about you than not even you, yourself, could ever begin to see. The second feature I noticed was her hair, raven-black with a bright, red streak on the left side that was hard to miss. Her hair reached just below her shoulder and framed her oval-shaped face perfectly and the color of her hair managed to bring out the blue in her eyes even more.

I hated to admit it, but I was seriously dumbstruck by this girl. She was just so... beautiful. No. The one word thought forced itself into my mind and I snapped myself out of my trance-like state. I had been staring, which was rude and creepy, neither of which I was too fond of being.

"Hi," I said a little too quickly, or maybe I was just being paranoid. Whatever. "You must be new here." Duh, Captain Obvious. I told my mind to shut up. "Well, obviously, 'cause I've never seen you around before." Shut up, shut up, shut up, I thought, but when she didn't say anything, the words kept on spilling out of my mouth.

Another quirk of mine? I had word vomit. Badly. Especially when I was nervous, though I had no idea why I was so nervous. I had no reason to be. "And clearly, neither has anyone else, because they're all pretty much staring at you." When she raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow at me and her indifference morphed into unmasked hostility, I immediately shut up. The hostility looked out of place on a face that beautiful.

"Great, I got stuck with a ranting freak as my lab partner." Ouch. I frowned. That actually hurt, but I forced myself to not let my hurt shine through. I was good at hiding my reactions towards any bad name anyone called me. I'd been called worse, so really, her comment wasn't too entirely scarring. "As if moving to this rink dink town and attending this stupid ass school weren't enough as it is," she muttered almost as an afterthought. I would have replied, but it was clear she was talking more to herself than to me, judging by the way her gaze had flitted to her now closed notebook.

My mouth opened and closed a few times before I decided not to say anything. It was clear I was not going to get much of a conversation out of the new girl, whose name I still did not know, a fact that bothered me a lot more than it probably should have.

I was just about to pretty much demand her to give me her name because if we were going to be working together for the rest of the year, I felt I had the right to know at least that much about her, but before I could, Mr. Stein cleared his throat and I knew that meant class was about to start so I better not speak a word. It looked like I would have to wait to get a name out of the girl.

Which I would, if I had anything to say about it.

XXX

Hope Marsters. The name kept running throughout my mind like a broken record. That was the name of the new girl. I had learned it in my third period class, Spanish 4, after Ms. Rodriguez had forced Hope to get up in front of the class and introduce herself. It had taken some coaxing and then finally the words 'You have no choice in the matter so get up here or get detention on your first day' spoken for Hope to make her way to the front of the classroom; my attention had been solely focused on her.

Apparently, she had moved to my town from New York City. It must have been quite the drastic change for Hope to have her life uprooted from a big city to a quaint, small town in the middle of nowhere, but if it bothered her, it didn't show. Indifference seemed to be her thing. So did sarcasm, and though I hated to say it because I didn't curse often, she also seemed to have a habit of being a complete and utter bitch.

All of which I had picked up in under ten minutes. The sound of a skateboard rolling across the tile floors interrupted my train of thought and I shut my locker only to come face to face with the third of my three friends, Darren. One would think after being friends with someone for a little over three years, you would grow used to their appearance, but I had a feeling Darren's appearance would always take me a little by surprise.

He had long hair, hair even longer than my mother's and hers reached a few inches above her waist, that he kept in a ponytail that laid neatly against his back and had dyed bright blue-black our sophomore year and continued to dye every time it started to fade. He had an eyebrow piercing, a tongue piercing, a lip piercing, and a snake tattoo that stretched from his left shoulder blade to his lower arm and was a green bright enough to rival the green of his eyes, which were the only normal-looking feature about him.

He was fairly good-looking underneath all the armor, but most people strayed from him because of how different he looked from most others. His 'extreme appearance', as most liked to call it, was the only reason we had become friends in the first place. That, and because Darren was friends with Isabella and had been since fifth grade and she had been my friend for a few days before she had introduced us to Darren, and thus, the trio of 'freaks' had been formed.

Holden and Isabella were probably the most 'normal' in the eyes of the people in our town. The only reason they were even ostracized was because they associated with what the residents of this town liked to call a 'hoodlum' and of course, the ever-popular, an 'abomination'. The former being in reference to Darren and the latter obviously being in reference to me, the only open lesbian in this entire town, it would seem.

"We're eating outside in the usual spot," were the only words out of his mouth before he skateboarded away, presumably to join Isabella and Holden outside for lunch. It was our place to eat considering not many chose to eat outdoors, surprisingly enough because that seemed like a popular thing for high school students in movies. Eating outdoors meant that we could avoid the noisy cafeteria, where most of the 'cliques' decided to eat their lunches.

I shook my head at the thought of my classmates before shoving the books I had received from the teachers of my first four classes of the day into my locker and shutting it after having retrieved my packed lunch, which my mom had delivered upon request in between my third and fourth periods of the day.

I chuckled, remembering the questions my mother had bombarded me with when she had noticed my dreamy expression. I, of course, had dodged her questions, not in the mood to answer them when I was trying to convince myself that I had not been staring into space with that so-called 'dreamy' expression. She had dropped the subject when I told her that I had to get to class. I could tell that she had wanted to pry further, but she merely shrugged and I thanked her for my lunch before jetting off to Calculus.

With one last laugh, I made my way out of the school and over to our spot, which was located on the far side of the school. Darren, Isabella, and Holden were in the same spot that we usually sat in and from the looks of it, we were the only ones out here not including the few teachers that were outside eating their own lunches while also chaperoning. Of course, this proved not to be true when I turned to my right and spotted Hope, the new girl, seated under a tree a few spots away from the wall my friends were seated on, which wasn't really a wall, but we liked to call it that anyway.

Anyway, back to Hope. I squinted, noting that her knees were pulled up, but not so far that they touched her chest; they were pulled up just enough for her to be able to read a book while eating her lunch, which I noticed was haphazardly splayed out on a bright neon pink binder. The color of the binder surprised me, really. Hope did not strike me as the type of girl to carry pink anywhere on her person.

Then again, I had learned to never judge a book by its cover and it wasn't like I actually knew anything about her aside from her first and last name.

As if sensing my eyes on her, Hope looked up and our gazes locked. I immediately looked away. I may have found her beautiful, but from what I had seen of her personality, she freaked me out and if there was one thing I was for certain, I was easily freaked out. All the time. It was why my friends hated watching scary movies with me. I sucked all the fun out of it by whining the whole time about how scary it was.

Seriously, though, what was the point in watching a scary movie? I would never be able to comprehend the want to scare yourself. It seemed so ridiculous.

Pushing that thought to the furthest corners of my frazzled mind, I jogged over to where my friends were now sitting on the grass and plopped down across from Isabella, which was next to Darren. This was how we normally sat: Isabella would sit beside Holden, obviously because the two were dating (that had started a few months ago and had not been a shock to either me nor Darren) and that left me to sit beside Darren and across from Isabella because Isabella and I spent more time chatting during lunch about girl things and Darren and Holden paid more attention to each other and chatted about guy things.

"Why were you staring at that girl?" were the first words out of Isabella's mouth and it was a question that halted all other conversation. All eyes were on me. I shifted uncomfortably under the intense gazes of all three of my friends.

"Guys," I hissed, but they did not budge. I sighed deeply. "I wasn't staring at her. I was simply observing." When they looked at me expectantly, I continued defensively with, "Everyone else was staring at her all morning. Go interrogate them."

Isabella tossed a purple grape at me. I caught it before it could hit me and popped it into my mouth. "Don't get so defensive," Isabella admonished. "I mean, she is pretty, after all."

"Damn right she is," Darren chimed in. Like a good boy, Holden kept his mouth shut, but I could see that he agreed by the smirk on his face.

I scowled at each of them. "So what if she's pretty? I wasn't staring at her."

"So you admit you think she's pretty?" Darren taunted. I smacked him upside the head.

"Guys, leave her alone," Holden attempted to defend me, but I could see that he was amused by Isabella and Darren's teasing of my apparent staring at the new girl.

Which I was not doing. Even though I totally was.

"I'll leave her alone about it when she fesses up," Isabella countered. Darren snorted and I assumed that was his way of agreeing.

I shook my head and begrudgingly admitted that I was staring. "What was that? We didn't hear you." I scowled. This time the scowl was directed only at Darren, who was the one who had spoken.

"I said," my voice was louder this time around, more distinct, "I was staring, okay? But it's not that big of a deal, seriously. Like I said, she's the new girl. Yes, she's pretty, I'll admit that, but whatever, it isn't that big of deal and her looks aren't the reason I was staring. She just.. intrigues me, I guess." In an attempt to get my friends to leave me alone for a few minutes, I busied myself with the small task of opening my lunch pail and pulling out its contents one by one; a PB&J, an apple, a small Ziploc bag of green grapes, and an eight ounce bottle of water. I laid the lunch pail on the grass in front of me sideways and placed my food and water onto it, somehow managing to keep the water from toppling over even though the lunch pail wasn't completely flat.

Unfortunately, the task didn't take too long and my friends were back to pestering me after I had taken a few bites of my sandwich.

"Why does she intrigue you?" Darren asked through a mouthful of pizza, bits of chewed up food flying out of his mouth and hitting the ground. I wrinkled my nose, disgusted. "Besides the obvious reason." I gave him a look that clearly stated I had no idea what he meant by 'obvious reason'. "She's fucking sexy," he elaborated, obviously catching onto my confusion. I should have guessed that was what he meant. It was Darren, for crying out loud.

"I don't know, honestly," I told the three of them. "I just think she's putting up a front, is all, or at least, that's what I gather from how she reacted to me in Chemistry. She was all hostile and she flat out called me a freak and she refused to give me her name, but... it seems fake. Yeah, she's kind of scary, I'll admit that much," it was true, "and it isn't like I plan on ever trying to strike up a conversation with her ever again because I'm leaving that up to her, but still..." I quit speaking then. I didn't know what else to say, so I left the sentence hanging in thin air.

Thankfully, Holden changed the subject. I gathered that he was trying to make up for what he had said this morning, but whatever his intention, I didn't care. I was simply grateful. Besides, I wasn't mad at him about this morning anymore. I had never really been angry to begin with, just frustrated. "Enough talk of the new girl," he ordered. His tone shut Darren and Isabella up quickly. "We need to figure out what we're going to do after school today."

"I have homework." That was Darren. He sounded less-than-pleased.

I stared at him in slight disbelief. I knew that teachers handed out homework on the first day of school sometimes, but I hadn't expected that to happen this year, for some reason. I didn't have any homework so far. Thankfully. "No shizz?" I asked him. 'Shizz' was a term I used only because Darren did and I liked to tease him about it. The word sounded odd when I said it. Then again, it sounded odd when just about anyone said it.

"No shizz," Darren responded. "I should have never taken my dad's advice and signed up for Italian. I'm already taking the required second year of Spanish. As if one foreign language weren't fucking enough." He trailed off, clearly too frustrated to continue.

Boys. Yet, everyone wondered why I preferred girls. Of course it wasn't like I chose to be attracted to the same sex. What person in their right frame of mind would choose to be something that everyone seemed to hate? Though, I quit caring after I quit hiding. People were people, society was society, and I could choose to let it get to me and go through the rest of my life miserable or I could choose to not care and be happy. I chose the latter for what I would hope were obvious reasons.

"Be thankful you aren't in Spanish four." Yes, I found the emphasis on 'four' necessary. "Ms. Rodriguez is overly bubbly. I'll be the first and probably the last to say that I like bubbly people, but the woman is cray cray."

'Cray cray' was a term coined from 'crazy' that Isabella and I had overheard a thirteen year old say one day over the summer when we had gone out for coffee.

"Cray cray!" Isabella and I exclaimed at precisely the same time, a habit of ours when I or she used the term and to which the boys responded by rolling their eyes and tossing grapes at us. I watched on in amusement as a smirk graced Holden's lips when one of the grapes he had thrown at Isabella made its way down her low-cut blouse. Isabella glared icy daggers at her boyfriend when she noticed that his hand was mere inches from going down her shirt and she immediately smacked his hand away, her glare intensifying as she seethed, "Don't even think about it."

"Ooh, shot down," Darren teased Holden in typical boy fashion. Holden ignored Darren in favor of flashing his infamous pout at his girlfriend and after only a few seconds, Isabella dropped her angered act and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips.

While my three friends goofed off, I allowed my gaze to wander and once again, I found myself staring intently at the hostile new girl who I now knew as Hope. I thought back to the question my friends had asked me earlier. Why was I so intrigued? Hope was pretty, definitely, but I had never really been the superficial type, so I couldn't just chalk it up to me being attracted to her.

It was something else, something I couldn't quite put my finger on, but I tore my gaze away from her and decided to ignore it, whatever it was. I was being stupid, anyway. Hope clearly did not want to make friends and considering I liked to fly under the radar, I was not about to go and force myself on her. Besides, she was just a girl.

Or so I kept telling myself.

author's note: i am back. I know, right? It's been a while, really. it is safe to say that i do not own macklemore x ryan lewis (sadly because they are two fine pieces of eye candy) nor do i own their brilliant song quoted at the top of the page. i also do not own anything that you recognize. i merely lay claim to my characters, the plot, and the words i write.

have a problem with homosexuality? then this is not the story for you so please leave. be an ass hat if you want to be, i guess that is your right as humans, but at least try to be helpful when critiquing. even ass hats have their nice moments, right?

the second chapter will be in hope's point of view. i already have it written. i will put it up when i feel necessary.

also, the beliefs of my characters are not my beliefs. there will be offensive language in this story. i do not condone such behavior irl but it is necessary. there isn't really too much offensiveness in this chapter, but hope's point of view is likely to be highly offensive to some. again, my character's beliefs are not mine so please refrain from any heinous accusations.