Teen Romance Novel: Chapter Two

Read Chapter One here.

Chapter Two:

After stowing my textbooks in my locker, I turned back into the crowd of students headed towards the cafeteria. I pushed through the double doors and barely made it into the room before someone stuck out their foot and tripped me. I bumped into a goth girl holding a tray and food went flying. How humiliating! I looked up and saw an attractive but morally deficient blonde girl wearing a pink minidress and heels. She was also wearing too much makeup which is some kind of metaphor about true beauty. Standing behind her were two marginally less attractive girls also wearing highly improbable outfits. The goth girl I had knocked over rolled her eyes and helped me to my feet, brushing turkey chili off her black mesh sleeves and platform combat boots.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” the main blonde murmured sarcastically, “I didn’t even see you there. You must’ve blended right into the wallpaper.”

The marginally less attractive henchwomen giggled stupidly behind her.

“Put a sock in it, Brittani,” the goth deadpanned. It was clear that she was an ally, though she represented someone that is too unlike other girls to be relatable. It is always important not to stray too far into self-expression!

The blonde, Brittani, ignored the goth and leaned in close to me –

“You better watch out, new girl,” she murmured, “stay the hell away from my boyfriend.”

I was shocked! Who could her boyfriend possibly be? How could she possibly think that lil’ ol’ me was going to get in her way?

The goth girl pushed past Brittani, pulling me along. In addition to being slightly too unique, she was slightly too aggressive.

“Don’t let her get to you,” the goth girl told me, “Brittani may be the most popular girl at school, but she’s also the biggest bitch. Everyone hates her.”

The irrationality of this situation escaped me, though it makes no logical sense for the most “popular” person to be the most universally hated because popularity is fundamentally a measure of status based on your acceptance by others. Oh man, if Brittani already hated me, I was never going to be popular at this rate!

“My name’s Amber,” the goth told me, “Connor sent me over to get you. We always sit at the corner table.”

“You’re Connor’s friend?”

“Yep. We’ve known each other since before we could walk.”

I felt a sharp pang of jealousy, or perhaps just petty fictionalized female competition. We wove our way through the round tables filled with students: each table representing a completely separate extracurricular group in which all members dressed completely alike: the marching band kids had plumed hats and instruments, the theater kids had black turtlenecks and props from Hamlet, and the nerds had graphing calculators and taped eyeglasses. Finally, we reached the table in the back corner. In contrast to the rest of the tables, this table had a diverse group of kids representing various groups.

“Hey! Amber found you!” Connor called out to me, “Gang, this is our new friend Daisy – but I call her Dusty. Dusty, this is everyone: that’s Carmen, Oliver, Tristan, Jessie…and you’ve met Amber.”

“Um, hi.” I opened my eyes very wide to indicate my vulnerability and eagerness to make new friends.

“Yeah, I found her all right,” Amber griped, “and then Brittani found both of us.”

“What does Brittani want with Dusty?”

“Apparently Dusty over here caught the attention of Prince Charming himself,” Amber said sarcastically.

Connor turned and looked at me.

“Blake? You should stay away from that guy. He’s bad news.”

“He sure is pretty, though,” Carmen sighed.

Connor didn’t let up.

“I’m serious, Daisy, stay away from Blake.”

“I just had one class with him. We don’t even know each other!” I protested. Why was Connor so concerned about me and Blake? I could feel the tension between us, but something about this tension felt right – as though each person in the world had settled into their discrete niche and the many cogs of the universe were able to finally turn smoothly, pulling me from male to male in an ancient cosmic pattern. Or like, something.

I ate my packed lunch quietly, watching Connor, Amber and their friends talk and joke. Every so often, someone asked me a question and I answered quickly and went back to my sandwich. You see, sometimes I like to be quiet and reflective and that’s just one of those things that sets me apart from the entirety of my gender! Eventually, lunch ended and the gang broke off to find their classes. Connor and Amber walked me to English, with Connor looking deep into my eyes while he walked and Amber looking on suspiciously. That’s pretty much the natural pace of any relationship: progressing to deep eye contact a few hours after meeting for the first time. All young girls should maintain the expectation that this will happen to them upon beginning high school. Connor paused briefly at the door to my English classroom.

“I’ll see you at the game, right?” Connor asked. “Remember, the rally starts right after the last bell!”

“Trust me, you won’t want to miss it!” Amber assured me.

“Of course I’ll be there,” I replied, “I wouldn’t miss it for the world!”

I sat down in the front row of my English class, opened my book to the page written on the board, and waited for class to begin. Suddenly, I felt eyes on the back of my head and turned to see Blake staring me down. I whipped back to my book and breathed in deeply. The only reasonable explanation for this behavior is that he hates me! I will be completely blindsided if this turns out not to be the case!

To be continued…