I wonder if he took her picture.
My new school is bigger than my last one, but my first day feels the same as always. There are syllabuses that all read like they think we've never been in school before (attendance is expected and homework is required, huh!) My homeroom teacher makes me get up in front of the class and say my name and where I'm from, but thankfully no one else does. Dominic packed me a lunch, which was unbearably sweet and also ends up being very convenient, because instead of going to the cafeteria I go to the athletic training office for a swim team information session. There are only fourteen people, and they are very excited about getting someone new, so that's gratifying, at least, and definitely my favorite part of the day so far. Especially since my usual highlight, food, is marred by the fact that I grabbed Alexis's lunch instead of my own, and her cold turkey sandwich with the crusts cut off and way more mayo than a child of any age needs makes me feel vaguely queasy.
It's nice, meeting new people, and it's fun being the center of a little bit of attention, but maybe that's because I can't shake the feeling that I'm just playing new-girl-dress-up and tomorrow I'm going to wake up and go back to a school where I know everybody.
Elisha and Mike, two juniors from the swim team meeting, have French with me next period so we walk together. They've both been on the team since freshman year. “It's a better team than you'd think,” Elisha says. “It's just most of our good people graduated.”
“Yeah, my team back in Miami was really big and really untalented,” I say.
Elisha laughs. “We'll see which one you like better.”
“Are you a freestyler?” Mike asks. He has one of those voices where everything he says sounds blurted out. All sudden and loud and completely surprising, possibly to him most of all.
“Butterfly,” I say.
“That's funny. You look like a freestyler.”
Thanks?
We round the corner to head up to the third floor—I'm glad I'm with them, because I spent ten minutes trying to find Chemistry this morning before I realized I was in the wrong building altogether—which means we pass by the cafeteria while everyone's flooding out, and there they are, Theo and Josey, giggling and leaning against some lockers, looking about as freaking coupley as any two people ever could.
Josey turns her head to the side so he can kiss her cheek and bam, eye contact. She gives Theo a little nudge away from her and nods at me and then they're both going “Taylor! Hey, Taylor—” and starting towards me.
“I'm going to be late,” I tell them.
Theo says, “We know we messed up. We want to talk.”
“French,” I say.
“What?”
“She's saying she has French,” Josey says.
“Great, see, you have her to translate,” I say.
“Let us take you out after school and explain,” he says.
I give Elisha a get me out of here look, and she reaches out and grabs my shirt sleeve. “We've got to go,” she says. “Sorry.”
“We'll be in the parking lot after school,” Theo says. “Look for us if you want, okay? Look for us.”
I nod a little as I walk away, and Elisha says, “What was that about?”
“It's a long story.”
“You don't want to get caught up with them,” she says.
I think I might have be getting an idea as to why people keep saying that.
“It's social seppuku,” she says. “They don't talk to anyone but each other and whatever girl of the year who decides she wants to play third wheel.”
“Why would anyone do that?” I say.
“I don't know. They want to pretend like they're all edgy and mysterious, running with the weird things. It's like Claire Danes in My So-Called Whatever. Hang on,” she says, and we stop at her locker so she can throw in her lunchbox and grab a few books.
“Edgy and mysterious is overrated,” Mike says. “You should come to my house after school. Elisha and I and our friend Adam catch up on TV and order in. You like sitcoms?”
“Yeah.”
“You should come,” he says, and he's looking at me hard and ugh, I know that look. And Mike is cute with a gap between his front teeth and the kind of black glasses I like, and he attempted to compliment me (and possibly my body?) with that freestyle thing, and he seems nice enough, and he likes swimming and sitcoms and food, like me.
He would make a very nice, very innocuous boyfriend.
God help me.
“That sounds really fun, but I should really go home and help my mom out with unpacking,” I say.
“Sure, totally,” he says, as Elisha steps away from her locker, arms and books folded across her chest. I think we all know that's not what I'm doing after school.
4
We take Josey's car. They try to put me in the passenger seat, but I decline. I'm not feeling very guest-like. And I want to watch them.
They're not being touchy and affectionate like they were when I caught them at school. The only physical contact between them right now is Josey slapping Theo's hand away from the radio dial.
She says, “One of these days I'm going to force you to watch Supernatural just so you learn that the passenger doesn't get to choose the goddamn music.”
“Your taste in TV is almost as bad as your taste in music.”
“That is like...you haven't even given it a chance.”
“You only like it because the guys are hot.”
“That is bullshit and you know it. If I gave a shit
