Part 7

A lot can change over time. That's probably not the most profound truth, but it is rather relevant to my story. Take the weather, for instance. In a matter of four weeks, our town had gone from warm and sunny, to a sweltering heat wave. Now I stood outside of my house, shivering in a light sweater, skirt and tights; waiting for Nathan to pick me up for school.

Today marked the beginning of homecoming week. I had never been the type of person to set my aspirations high for such things. It had only been a couple of months since I moved back home, and I seriously doubted I had made an impact on anyone. Plus I happened to be a freshman, so I didn't expect to get asked to the dance. I also didn't plan on going to the dance, or the game, or participating in any of our so-called "spirit week" activities. But a lot can change over time…

I dropped my backpack at the end of the driveway. Then I perched myself atop it as modestly as possible. Skirts were nothing new to me, but I knew they sometimes didn't want to cooperate in certain situations. The past year had given me plenty of time to get acquainted with them. They were actually mandatory for my previous school's uniform.

I stretched my legs out in front of me, and crossed them at my ankles. Folding my arms across my chest, I did my best to huddle myself away from the sporadic cold winds. Layers probably would have been the better choice today. It was supposed to warm up later. A coat would have been too much, but what I had on seemed to be too little. Hopefully Nathan would arrive shortly.

The school bus was always an option. It sometimes came before Nathan, keeping him from backing out of his driveway. Most of the time Nathan tried to beat the bus, as he hated having to follow it out of the neighborhood. The driver of the bus caught on to our usual routine, and didn't even stop if he saw Nathan's jeep. There were a few times I had to catch a ride on the bus, though, but it wasn't the worst thing in the world.

My eyes moved across the street, eventually landing on Amber's front door. Ever closer drew the time for her to burst out of her house. Full of electric energy, she would sometimes skip across the street, as if she couldn't contain her enthusiasm to talk to me. I don't know what she found so special about me anyway. Yet, it always felt like she couldn't wait to see me.

As if on cue, Amber's front door swung open. She yelled something back into the house. Then she turned and exited, pulling the door shut behind her. I looked on with quizzical amusement, as I slowly made out what she had on. Apparently, spirit week meant more to some people than others. I guess Amber, being new in town, maybe felt obligated to fit in, and share in some of the traditions here.

"Seriously?!" Amber stated, from across the street. "Am I going to be the only one that shows up like this?"

I tried to give her a reassuring smile, but I was pondering her exact sentiment. Amber's light jacket kind of ruined the look, but it was obvious what she had on beneath it. She wore a cotton top and bottoms, colored with a soft baby blue, and covered with little clouds. On her feet were a pair of cute fluffy white slippers. Everything actually looked brand new, as if purchased for this exact occasion. And though her hair and light makeup seemed flawless, there was no doubt she was taking part in the get-up-and-go day.

"It's not too late to change," I said, glancing up the street. "I can ask Nathan to wait."

Amber stood across the street at the end of her driveway. She seemed to be contemplating the suggestion. I watched her teeter back and forth from one slipper to the other. A few times she even turned and looked back up at her house. She started to walk back up her driveway, but then turned around and came back to her spot. When I looked back up the street, I saw Nathan's jeep coming around the corner.

"I wouldn't hear the end of it," Amber said. "I fought with my mom just to get her to buy this." She gestured at the outfit.

Well that certainly answered one of my questions. "Seriously," I said, starting to stand up. "He'll wait if I ask him."

Amber looked up the street. She seemed to be frozen with dread as she watched Nathan's vehicle grow closer. I knew she had a crush on him. If she worried about being made fun of at school, she would be devastated if Nathan cracked a bad joke about her apparel. It didn't seem to matter either way though. All she could do was stand there like a statue.

"I need to know," I said, as Nathan's jeep came to a stop in front of me.

Amber could only muster a single word. "I…"

"What's with her?" Nathan asked, as I pulled the passenger door open.

"She's rethinking the whole spirit week thing," I said.

Nathan turned and rolled down his window. "I figured you slept in shorts and tees, army girl," Nathan said, cracking a smile.

"Uh… only when I'm feeling sexy," Amber retorted, snapping back to her normal self. She looked down at her attire. "These are warmer though."

"And cuter," Nathan said, still smiling at her.

Amber looked back up with a slight blush. "Th… thanks," she muttered.

"You gonna get in? Or are you taking the bus?" Nathan asked. When Amber gave a rather unsure look, Nathan added, "Trust me, you won't be the only one dressed like that today."

"You sure?" Amber asked, cautiously making her way to his jeep.

"Lot's of people do spirit week," Nathan said, as she crossed in front of the vehicle.

"Are you wearing anything underneath?" I asked, as I held the passenger seat forward for her.

"Leggings, and a tank top," Amber said, sitting down in the back. "Rules and all."

"Well," I said. "Worse case scenario… You get your shoes from your gym locker, and wear your jacket and leggings all day."

"Nobody just wears leggings as pants," Amber said.

"So you'll be a trend-setter."

I smiled at her as I dropped the seat back. She seemed to be in good spirits, after a little reassurance. So I climbed into the passenger seat and shut the door. After I had buckled in, Nathan took off down the street. We sat in silence for the most part, until we got out of the neighborhood.

"So…" Nathan said, attempting to start a conversation. "How was your weekend?"

"Mine was an ordeal," Amber blurted out. "Had to go with my mom to find the perfect lamp for the corner of our living room. Then we argued over this out… err… outside… chair. Ended up being a whole thing."

"Sounds rough," Nathan said. "Mine was typical. Workout and game video on Saturday. Then homework on Sunday." He glanced at me. "What about you?"

"Me?" I glanced out the passenger window. "I spent most of it finishing up my room. Finally got the closet finished last week, so I could move my clothes in."

"Nice," Amber said, including herself in the conversation again. She leaned forward, putting her hand on Nathan's shoulder. "So, are you going to the homecoming dance?"

"Probably," Nathan said. "It kind of depends."

"On what?" Amber asked.

"On… someone saying 'yes' when I ask her to go," he said.

"Oh," Amber said. "So you have someone in mind?"

I could almost picture her eyes batting, without even turning to look at her.

"Yeah," Nathan said.

"Who's the lucky girl?" I asked.

Nathan glanced over at me. I could tell this was a little uncomfortable for him. On the one hand, he had to know about Amber's crush. She was beyond obvious with it. Nathan wasn't exactly the type of guy that liked to crush people's feelings either. On the other hand, I was worried that he might actually ask me. That would have introduced even more problems. The least of which would be asking me in front of my friend that happened to have a crush on him.

"Well, I actually took your advice," Nathan said, glancing at me again.

"My advice?" I asked, surprised.

"You remember the other day?" Nathan asked. "When you pointed out the girl flirting with me?"

"What girl?" Amber asked, focusing on me, rather than him.

"Danica," Nathan said. "I was thinking of asking her."

"Danica?!" Amber muttered to herself, as she retreated back to her seat

"Oh…" I said. "The softball player?" I looked back at Amber, giving her a sympathetic frown. "I totally forgot about her."

"Yeah…" Nathan said. "I know she's a senior and all, but who knows? Right?" He glanced over at me once more. "I mean, if she likes me… she'll say 'yes,' right?"

"It's worth a shot," I said, shrugging. "She seemed to like you a lot."

Nathan gave me another look. "You're not upset, are you?"

"Why would I be upset?" I asked, snapping my gaze back to him.

"Well, I would've asked you," Nathan said, "but you said you just wanted to be friends and all."

"Friends can take friends to a dance," Amber muttered. "Friends can take friends' friends to a dance."

"If it makes you feel any better," I said, ignoring Amber. "I had no intentions of going anyway."

"Really?!" Amber said, shooting up in her seat. "Are you like… not going to do anything fun at school?"

"Hey!" I said, looking back at her. "For all you know, I could have other plans on Saturday."

"Do you?" Amber asked.

I turned back around, and settled in my seat. "No… But I could."

"I'm sorry, you two," Nathan said, pulling into the school parking lot.

"For…?" I said, looking at him.

"Well, obviously talking about the dance upset you," he said.

"I'm not upset," Amber muttered; her arms folded across her chest stating otherwise.

"I, for one, am happy for you," I said, thinking I had completely dodged a bullet for once. "I'm sure Danica will go with you."

"Yeah… totally," Amber said. Her focus was now set on seeing how many people wore pajamas to school. "You're a great catch. I'm sure she's pretty. Blah blah…"

"Well," Nathan said, giving Amber an odd look in the mirror. "If you two decide to go, I could give you a ride."

Amber scoffed in the backseat. "Awkward…"

"Yeah," I added. "It's a nice gesture." I patted his arm. "But you don't want two freshmen tagging along on your date with a senior."

"For sure," Amber said.

"I don't think this line is going to move," Nathan said, looking at the cars in front of him. "You two should probably get out here. Save you some time."

"Thanks for the ride," I said. "Yet again."

"You really don't have to thank me every day," Nathan said, chuckling.

"I don't have to," I said, opening the door and hopping out. "But I want to."

"What she said," Amber said, pushing to get out of the jeep. "See you later. Thanks for the pep talk, and all that." Following her remark, Amber took off in a hurry.

"Is she okay?" Nathan asked, watching Amber walk briskly toward the school grounds.

"Family stuff," I lied. "She'll get over it." I lifted my hand up to wave goodbye. "I'll talk to you later."

"Later," Nathan said.

I had to break into a slight jog to catch up with Amber. "You okay?" I asked, coming up behind her.

"I'm fine," Amber said, obviously not.

"Look," I said, touching her elbow. "The whole Danica thing was before I even met you."

Amber shrugged silently.

"It was before school started," I said. "When we were getting schedules."

"I'm not mad at you," Amber said. "If that's what you're thinking."

"Well, you're upset though," I said.

"Yeah," she said. "A little. But it's not like I made a move, or anything." She shrugged. "Would I have liked him to ask me? Yes, of course. But the odds of that…" She shrugged again. "I just had to get away from the awkwardness. Besides, he's a little… thick-skulled when it comes to picking things up."

"I can agree with that," I said, smiling. "He didn't even pick up on Danica flirting with him, until I said something."

Amber sighed dejectedly at me. "So you actually pointed it out?"

"I'm sorry," I said. "If I'd known…"

Amber put her hand on my shoulder to stop me from talking. "It's cool. He says he doesn't like girls that are forward," she said. "But doesn't pay attention to anything else." She shrugged once again. "But look who I'm talking to. He totally tossed you into the friend zone."

"What do you mean?"

"I would have asked you, Bailey," she said, in a mocking male tone. "But you're just a friend. Friends can't do stuff with friends."

"Wow," I said. "I did not take it like that at all."

Amber started to walk toward class again, this time with a much more reasonable pace. "I mean, it's cool if you just want to be friends," she said. "Seems like he's trying pretty hard to keep you at arms length though."

"I was kind of thinking I avoided letting him down back there," I said.

"So you don't like him?"

"I like him," I said. "But I don't want to go out with him, or anything."

"Oh…" Amber said. "I guess you're not in the friend zone then."

"What does that even mean?" I asked.

Amber glanced at me with an amused look. "You really don't know?"

I shook my head.

"I guess not everybody watches Friends," she said. "It means you really want to be with someone, but they either don't see it, or don't acknowledge it. They keep you around as a friend in the friend zone."

"Oh," I said. "So like… you and Nathan?"

Amber shook her head. "Sometimes I don't even think he considers me a friend," she said. "With him, it's more like the twilight zone."

We walked in silence for a short while longer. Eventually we reached the point where we had to split up for classes. Amber waved goodbye to me, without another word, and I returned the wave. Looking around the school grounds, I could see a little positive side note in the events of this morning. At least half the school participated in get-up-and-go day.

Ever since the seventh grade, I had always walked into science class with higher than normal expectations of it being a lab day. Whenever I saw the Bunsen burners out, or a big cart full of trays at the front of the room, I would get excited. I liked the change in pace, from having our heads buried in books all day. They were few and far between, but the labs worked wonders on breaking up the monotony. Unfortunately, today wasn't one of those days.

I slid into my seat near the far wall. Usually I wasn't this early to class. It got kind of boring waiting on the tardy bell. Most of the other kids didn't even show up until one minute before it rang. I contemplated a quick run to the water fountain, but talked myself out of it. After all, I had already settled in. Before long the room filled. A few students still chatted away, staying within diving distance of their tables.

The second to last bell rang, and my lab partner, Brendan, came rushing to his chair. My perception of Brendan had changed over the past few weeks. At first glance, he would appear to some as the typical skater boy. He had the shaggy hair, usually covered with a backwards ball cap. He always wore Vans, and most of the time had the hoodie and jeans style going. Most of the time he looked like he just woke up, which surprisingly he didn't partake in the spirit day's theme.

Brendan was anything but the typical skater boy, though. Ironically, he usually beat me to class. He wasn't even close to being a nerd type, but I could tell he prided himself on being an exemplary student. Today, however, he looked a little off. As he bent down to get something out of his bag, his shirt lifted a bit. I noticed a large bruise on his lower back.

"Jeez," I said, a little louder than it sounded in my head.

Brendan sat upright, wincing a bit from the action. He turned around to face me. "What?"

"That bruise on your back," I said. "Are you okay?"

"Oh that," he said. "I'm good." His face lit up a bit. "I was trying out this wicked kickflip into a nose grind, and then I went to land a one-eighty."

"I have no idea what that means," I said. "But I assume it didn't work out?"

Brendan chuckled, wincing a little at the movement. "Everything worked out perfectly," he said. "I nailed it! I just didn't account for one of my wheels catching on a rock afterwards."

"Ouch," I said, grimacing at the thought.

"Luckily I'm smart enough to wear pads and a helmet," he said. "So nothing else took damage."

"I wouldn't exactly preface that statement with 'luckily,'" I said, giving him a sly smile. "Still looks like you took a nasty spill."

He returned the smile, despite me poking fun at him. "I'll be alright," he said. Then he went back to digging his book out of his bag. I watched him place his book and a notebook neatly on the table in front of him. After a moment he turned back to face me. "Are you going to the dance?" he asked.

My mouth dropped open, and I sat there stunned for a few seconds. "I…" I looked him over. He seemed so hopeful. "I didn't plan on it," I said, honestly.

"Would you like to?" Brendan asked. "With me, that is?"

"Oh… jeez," I muttered, shifting uncomfortably. "I…"

"Unless you have other plans?" He leaned away from me. "It's cool if you don't want to."

"Honestly," I said. "I had no intentions of going."

"I see," Brendan said. "Not the dance type?"

I shook my head. "I'm flattered though," I said. "Are you sure you can even dance in your condition?" I flashed him another smile.

Brendan looked at me thoughtfully for a moment. "Would you like to do something else?" he finally asked.

"Like what?"

He shrugged. "Like see a movie?"

For a long moment I sat and stared at him; weighing my decision. His pale green eyes seemed to be filled with rapidly dwindling optimism. Brendan actually had some attractive qualities. He was pretty smart, despite probably taking a few shots to the head with his skateboarding. The fact that he happened to be a pretty boy, with longer hair than most, kind of appealed to me.

"Unless you don't like movies either," he added, after the extended silence.

"I like movies," I said, smiling. His awkwardness made me smile. "Sure," I finally said.

Brendan looked surprised. "Sure?"

"I'll go see a movie with you," I said.

"Really?"

I nodded.

"Cool," he said. "Did you want to go Saturday? Or…"

"I'll have to check with my mom," I said. "But Saturday would probably be fine."

"Awesome," Brendan said, right before the tardy bell rang. "Just… uh… let me know?"

I slid my notebook over to him. "Give me your number," I said. "I'll call you."

As I watched him write down his phone number, I reflected on the situation. I couldn't believe I had been so bold. Granted, Brendan was the one to take the first step and put himself out there. However, I amazed myself at how I took hold of the situation. Very seldom did I take the initiative to get plans rolling, especially for a supposed date. I even told the boy to give me his number, instead of giving out mine.

Brendan smiled as he slid my notebook back over; casually grazing my hand in the process. He constantly went out of his way to innocently touch me. A touch on my hand when he passed papers, or rubbing elbows during a lab. I thought it was weird and uncomfortable at first, but it didn't seem to harm anyone. Up to this point, I had merely tolerated it; contemplating asking the teacher for a change in seating. Now I knew that he was actually interested in me, and those casual little moments of contact were his subtle way of flirting.

The teacher walked to the front, demanding attention from the class. She began the typical routine; asking for us to pass our assignments from Friday to the front of the room. As she began teaching on our new assignment, I felt butterflies stir inside of me. The moment of Brendan asking me out had passed chaotically. Now I suddenly felt nervous about an actual date with him. It wasn't even a sure thing yet. I still had to ask my mother.

However, old fears began trickling in from the darkest recesses of my past. Brendan knew nothing of my past either. Unless he had caught wind of a rumor somewhere, he didn't know about my transition. Would this get serious? Would I have to tell him at some point? Should I tell him up front?

I glanced over at him, and he gave me a subtle smile. What if he knew already? That would be a rather awkward feeling. Suppose he knew about me, and that was the reason he wanted to go out with me. I subconsciously returned a smile, and quickly turned away. Maybe I was getting ahead of myself here. It wasn't even deemed a "date," after all. It's not like we had to get married at the conclusion of the movie either. I should just go and have fun; live in the moment.

Speaking of moments… Science class couldn't have ended a moment too soon. It seemed to drag on forever today, but finally the bell rang. After meekly reminding Brendan I would call him, I quickly headed for the exit. I had to get out of there before I hyperventilated. Zigzagging through the flood of students in the hall, I managed to get to a door that led outside. There I could take a breath of fresh air.

"What have I done?" I asked the chilly morning air.

My hand trembled as I reached out for the railing on the stairs. The building was only two stories tall, but it seemed like an epic climb down. I clenched the railing tightly. A few students brushed by me. Thankfully, not a lot of people used the back staircase. I needed the space at the moment.

Going out the front of the building would have made my trip to my next class a lot shorter. The fresh air did me some good, however. I had time to calm down; time to think. A date didn't mean boyfriend or girlfriend. Hell, we might not even like each other by the end. Perhaps I was even putting my expectations higher than Brendan's. A quick glance down at my hands, found them trembling.

Despite the negative connotation Amber gave to her explanation of the friend zone, I could always pull that card. It was a classic move to say we should just be friends. Worst case scenario, it could be played at the start of the date. Why did I keep calling it a date? I shook my head, as I pulled open the door to the next building. This could just be a case of two people hanging out; maybe to see if they'd make good friends.

"Friends," I thought. "That's exactly what I need right now. I need to talk to them about it."

"Hey babe," Tiffany said, as I slid into my chair next to her. "I see you skipped the whole pajama day too."

"Yeah," I said.

Looking her over, I could see that she somewhat participated in showing her school spirit. I never knew her to wear sweatpants at all to sleep in. In fact, out of all the girls I knew, she was probably the most feminine when it came to sleepwear. She even unwittingly introduced me to the luxuries of satin. Today, however, she used the opportunity to wear something comfortable to school; sweatpants and hoodie.

"At least you look comfy," I said.

"You look…" She tilted her head to look down my legs. "Dressy." Her eyes came back up to meet mine. "Trying to get someone's attention?"

"If I was, it worked," I said. "I just got asked out."

"Really?!" She leaned forward, clearly interested. "By whom?"

"Brendan Tucker," I said. "He sits next to me in science class."

Tiffany lowered her tone. "A boy asked you out?" she asked, slightly surprised. "To the dance?"

"No," I said. "To a movie." I took a quick glance around the room. For some odd reason this felt like a secret. "I told him I didn't want to go to the dance. So he asked if I wanted to do something else that night."

"Do you even like him?"

"He's… nice," I said. I cringed inwardly, thinking back on my conversation with Tawny. "Like he seems like an okay guy," I recanted.

"So… what's the problem?" Tiffany asked.

"I'm nervous," I said. "I feel I might have made a mistake. And I have all these questions in my head."

Tiffany put her hand on my arm. "Did you commit already?"

"I told him I'd ask my mother, and call him," I said.

"Well you still got options then," Tiffany said. "If you totally don't want to do it, just blame it on your mom saying no to the date."

"She might do that anyway," I said.

"True," Tiffany said. "Another thing you could try to do, is set it up as a group date." She shrugged. "Could help in getting to know him."

"Those always seem more awkward to me," I admitted. "My cousin dragged me along with her on group dates all the time last year."

"Well, there is a more awkward suggestion," Tiffany said. "Have a friend tag along." She chuckled. "Probably just as awkward as having your parents sit ten rows behind you."

"I don't know," I said. "I'm seriously considering option one."

Tiffany sat back in her chair. "I'd personally give him a chance," she said. "If anything, you might make a new friend." She shrugged. "Of course, if you tell him you can't date until you're sixteen, you can keep him at bay for the rest of the school year."

"That probably would've been something to mention when he asked though," I said.

Tiffany wrinkled her nose at me. "Yeah," she said. "You'd be a bitch to bring it up now." She gave me a playful smile.

"Shut up," I said, pushing her playfully.

"Anyway…" Tiffany eyed me for a moment. "Are you going to do anything for spirit week?" Her eyes trailed over my attire again.

"I don't know," I said. "I really don't see the appeal. They're all pretty stupid. Backwards day… Jinx day…"

"Tawny and I thought about doing twin day," she said.

"I could see that," I said. "You have about the same hair color."

"We could always dye yours black," she said, giving me a grin.

"I thought about going brunette before I came home. But I figured my mom would kill me," I said, giggling a little. I shook my head at Tiffany. "I'll probably do one of the stupid days this week though. Like red, black and silver day."

"That's the… spirit?" Tiffany rolled her eyes at me.

I shrugged as the tardy bell rang. "As long as Tawny doesn't give me pigtails again."

"Maybe you could dye your hair red, and just wear black and silver," Tiffany said.

"If I dyed it red," I said, "I could be Amber's twin."

"That's a scary thought," Tiffany said. "Two Ambers..." She smiled as she turned away.

Art class always seemed to be too short. It felt like we had just gotten into whatever project we were assigned, when we had to turn around and put everything away. The freshman art class felt like a recap, for the most part, of everything we had done in junior high. We were nearly a month in, and had barely made it into shading techniques. It was fun and relaxing, but I wanted to try something new.

The time seemed to fly. By the time I finished washing pencil smudges off of my hands, the bell rang for the end of class. It felt like it had been twenty minutes, instead of forty-five, but the clock didn't lie. Tiffany brushed by me, gently grabbing my arm above my elbow. She seemed to be pulling me over to her art locker. So I followed her.

"Bit of extra advice," she said. "Whatever you do, don't make the guy think you're into him, if you're not."

"I know that," I said, smiling.

"I'm serious," she said. "If you see it as nothing more than friends, that needs to be the first thing you say to him." She turned to face me head on. "In fact, there is nothing wrong with saying you want to be friends first. Regardless of where it goes. Don't feel like you're obligated to be someone else for him."

"Okay," I said. "You're starting to worry me."

"It's just… I'm worried about you," she said. "Maybe trying to experience things too quickly. Like we did before…" She turned to put the lock on her locker. "I mean, it's only September, and you have a date."

"It's not like I went around the science room asking," I said.

Tiffany spun around to look right in my eyes. "I just think that sometimes you agree to things, because you feel bad if you don't," she said. She looked away. "You did with me…"

"Hey…" I reached out and touched her shoulder. "You don't really think --"

"I need to get to class," she said, twisting away from me. "Call me later, kay?"

I hurried to lock up my art supplies. Then I rushed out of the classroom, trying to catch Tiffany. Instead, I ran into a swarm of students trying to get in and out of the room. All I could do was watch her disappear down the hall and around the corner. After talking to her, however, I decided to go with a different tact. Maybe instead of advice from an old friend, I needed to seek advice from a newer source; perhaps more of an acquaintance. I quickly hurried to my next class.

"Tracy," I said, sliding into my desk behind her. "I need your advice."

"My advice?" Tracy asked, turning to face me. "About what?"

"Dating," I said.

Tracy perked up. "Anything in particular?" she asked.

"See… this boy…"

"See!" Jason Coleman said, as he slumped down into his chair. "Even Bailey doesn't buy in to this spirit week bull."

"Hush you," Tracy said, slapping his arm. "We're talking."

"What about?" Jason asked, sliding his desk back closer.

"She's asking about dating boys," Tracy said.

"Oh…" Jason slid his desk back to its original spot. "Forget I asked."

"Go on," Tracy said, turning her attention back to me.

Glancing back and forth between Jason and Tracy, I felt a little hesitant about asking now. I decided to chance it. "So this boy asked me out to the movies," I said, lowering my voice. "And I'm a little nervous about it."

"Do you want us to double with you?" she asked, abruptly.

"What?" I sat stunned for a moment. "Actually…" My gaze fell over to Jason. "Are you two free Saturday?"

"Oh…" Tracy looked over at Jason. "We're going to the dance…"

I sat up straight. "Oh," I said, focusing back on Tracy. "Yeah… I should've realized…"

"Why don't you just go to the dance too?" Tracy asked. "Then you hardly have to be alone with the guy, if you don't want to be."

"It's not really that," I said. "Besides, I don't have a dress, or anything."

Tracy chuckled at me. "It's not prom," she said. "Just wear a nice dress." She glanced over my attire. "Even what you have on is fine. Though… maybe a little fancier top. Perhaps a dressy pair of heels, and --"

"I'm not going to the dance," I said, cutting her off.

Tracy shrugged. "Suit yourself," she said, turning around.

Before I could say anything more, the tardy bell rang. I slumped back in my chair. While I didn't expect much from those two, I didn't appreciate the "dance, or nothing" advice I got from Tracy. It would have been nice to take advantage of a double date though. Jason could be an ass at times, but had proven a few times that he had my back. I guess it was his little way of saying thanks for me hooking him up with Tracy. A quiet sigh passed through my lips.

English class was boring. Sentence structure… An overwhelming amount of talk about run-on sentences and why they shouldn't be used because they tend to confuse the reader and could easily be broken down into smaller segments but sometimes they work as tongue-in-cheek humor. There was only so much of it I could handle, but English classes always started the year off with the boring stuff. They always had to get into the perils of ending sentences with prepositions, before they ever got into what the class was really for. I eagerly awaited reading the stories.

That all being said, it wasn't long before the bell rang. I gathered my books, and quickly headed for the door. Tracy's advice, or lack thereof, left me feeling like avoidance would be the best option with her. She'd drag me to the homecoming dance if she had her way. If only to say that she got someone else to come to it. Her family had a long history of arbitrarily making school dances the most important events in life.

I sat quietly in my next class; legs crossed, arms resting gently on my geography book. Staring down at my nails, neatly painted with Cherry Crush, I began to ponder what I might say to Brendan if things did get serious. Maybe I had been a bit juvenile with my ambitions this year. I chose to come back home, and attend a school where it seemed highly likely the students would know about my past. There wasn't a day that passed without me worrying about my secrets getting out.

I'm sure most of them were probably floating around school already. Only a few people I trusted had the whole story. Anything else would be rumors and conjecture. It kind of surprised me nothing had been said before now; at least not to my face. If Brendan knew, then I worried about his reasons for asking me out. Yet, if he didn't know, I worried about how much time I had to tell him, before someone else got around to doing it.

For the most part, I had been lucky. There were a few students I knew from elementary school. With all of the changes to my name and appearance, it threw most of them off the trail. However, I wasn't blind to the distant, inquisitive stares. People I knew from junior high were beginning to piece things together. I could only hope that when it all exploded, it wouldn't be with hate and vitriol.

The tardy bell shook me from my thoughts. I happened to look over to my right, and caught Brent Kobb unabashedly staring at my legs. When he realized I had seen him, he didn't even try to hide it. He simply smiled at me, with his portly red face, and took another gander. I turned away, hiding my face behind my hand. Class starting didn't even seem to deter him from staring, as I caught him several more times over the next forty-five minutes. Eventually I tried to ignore him, but by the end of class it felt like his eyes were burning holes through my legs.

"Did you enjoy the show?" I asked, as the bell rang.

"Your legs look amazing in tights," Brent said, still staring at them.

"You should've taken a picture," I said, standing from my desk. "Would've been less creepier than your staring."

"Sorry," Brent said, clearly unapologetically. He stood to join me.

"No," I said. "You're not, or you would have stopped at some point."

"Can't you take a compliment?" Brent asked.

"Of course," I said, starting to walk away. "But you made it awkward."

Brent reached out to grab my arm, but I jerked it away. "What is with you?" I asked, backing away from him.

Brent backed off too, raising his hands in the air. "Whoa! Why are you going all crazy?"

"Don't touch me," I said, with a harsh tone.

"Okay," he said. "I just want to talk to you."

I pulled my geography book up against my chest. "If you want to talk to me," I said, "then walk me to my next class."

I moved for the door, hoping he wouldn't join me. Thankfully, I made it out into the hallway without him trying to grab me again. It wasn't long before Brent rushed up beside me. I'm sure he had to get one last gawk at my legs in, before his brain began to function again. He walked beside me for a moment, keeping a slight distance. There was an awkward silence between us, until we got outside.

"Can I carry your books for you?" he asked.

"I'm good," I said. "Thanks for offering."

Brent lifted his hand to scratch his head. "I'm sorry I stared," he said.

"Are you?" I asked.

"It's just…" Brent sighed. "I don't know. You wore something different today, and you stood out."

"You mean my legs stood out," I said.

Brent looked down at my legs again. "Well it is a good different," he said. "I can't help staring if someone's legs look that good."

I had to fight back a smile. "I figured as much," I said. I continued to hold my book tightly against my chest. "There are better ways to go about telling someone that."

"I guess… I'm a little shy," Brent said.

"And full of crap!" I exclaimed, laughing at him.

"What?" he asked. "Why?"

"Someone shy might steal a glance," I said. "But they sure as hell don't flash a grin when they get caught." I looked up at him. "And then keep staring."

"Fine," he said, his eyes shooting up to meet mine. "I'm not shy." He stepped in front of me, and walked backwards a few steps. "I think you're pretty," he admitted. "And I don't know… I thought maybe…"

I stopped abruptly. "No," I said, shaking my head.

My sudden halt in movement, caused Brent to have to backtrack a few steps. "No?" he asked. "You don't even know what I was going to say."

"I have a pretty good idea," I said. "And you don't get to do that."

"Do what?" he asked, giving me a puzzled look.

"You don't get to turn this whole thing into something positive for you," I said, brushing past him. "You screwed up big time."

"Seriously?" he asked, catching up to me again.

"Seriously," I said, keeping my eyes forward.

"You won't even give me a chance?" Brent asked.

"Look," I said, as I came to a stop again. "I'm all about second chances. But I don't think --"

"So you'll go out with me?" Brent asked, sporting a confident smile.

My brow furrowed. I did my best to display a disagreeable glare at his ridiculous request. Quickly, I shook my head. "No," I said, with exasperation in my tone.

"So I totally blew it?" he asked, dropping his smile.

"You didn't blow it," I said, trying to throttle my prejudice. "Just… prove to me you're not a creep, and… maybe… I'll think about giving you another chance."

"How can I do that, if you won't go out with me?"

"Easy," I said. "Don't stare at me like a deranged serial killer, or try to grab my arm like you own me."

"Okay," Brent said. "I promise not to do that. Now will you go out with me?"

I rolled my eyes. "Let's just try being friends for now."

Brent scoffed at me. "Forget it," he said. "Stupid bitch, with your head games."

My mouth dropped open. Brent walked away from me, without giving it a second thought. He passed by a group of girls, shouting about how nice their butts were as he laughed. They shook their heads and walked away. Which is exactly what I should have done, when he opened his mouth. However, the entire interaction with Brent dismayed me more than it should have. I had trouble even getting through the door of the next building.

I continued my walk to Algebra class in stunned silence. It wasn't so much what Brent had said. I'd been called a bitch before; both playfully, and critically. That didn't bother me as much as the complete turn in his demeanor. He actually came off awkwardly comedic in his feeble attempts to turn me in his favor. At least, before I turned him down that is. Then the mask came off.

"So you actually talked to him after that?" Tawny asked.

Algebra class had flown by, and Tawny and I had settled in at our usual lunch table. I had been filling her in on my interaction with Brent. Of course, I had to take a brief moment to fawn over her absolutely adorable pajama set. It was actually on loan from Rachel, as Tawny had stopped wearing pajamas after eighth grade. However, she looked amazingly cute in the pastel pink set; with sheep leaping all over the soft material. She even had the fluffy wool slippers to match.

"I figured I'd give him a chance to explain himself," I said. "If nothing else."

Tawny took a bite of her apple. "And?"

"And… he was on a steady road to recovery," I said. "I was willing to let most of it slide. But all through his apology he kept asking me out. And he continued to stare at my legs."

"Gross," Tawny said, putting her apple back on the tray.

"What? The apple?"

"That too," she said, flicking it with her finger. "So what happened?"

"So I basically told him I'd think about it, if he could prove he wasn't a creep," I said. "Then he accused me of playing head games."

"Really?!"

"Yeah," I said. "His exact words were, 'stupid bitch, with your head games.'"

"What an asshole," Tawny said, before realizing how loud she had said it. She brought it down a few notches. "Jason was right. He really is a knob. Did you say anything back?"

I shook my head, as I poked at my food. "He walked away. Besides… I was too shocked at his one-eighty," I said, looking down. "Oh… speaking of one-eighty…" I looked up at her again. "I got asked out today by Brendan Tucker."

"Seriously?" Tawny asked, turning on her stool to face me. "What did you say?"

"I kinda said yes," I said.

Tawny looked thoughtfully at me for a moment. "He's in my English class," she said. "Not hideous either."

"He's pretty cute, actually," I admitted. "And he seems sweet."

"I gotta say… I never thought I'd see you go for a skater boy," Tawny said, looking back at her food as if she couldn't decide whether or not to eat more of it. "Honestly, never thought I'd see you go for a boy at all. You always seemed so opposed to the idea of it."

"I'm really nervous about it," I said. "Like… I don't normally go for boys. But I just seemed to take action, and I don't really know what to do now."

Tawny picked up a tater tot, but then decided against eating it. "When's the date?" she asked, tossing the tot back on the tray.

"See…" I said. "That's the thing. I don't even know if it's a date. Like… it wasn't officially stated as being a date."

Tiffany turned to face me. "What did he say when he asked?"

"Well he asked me to the dance at first," I said. "But I told him I don't like dances… more or less. So then he asked me to see a movie."

"Yeah…" Tawny finished off a bite of her food. "It's totally a date."

"You think?" I asked.

"If he asked you to go with him… alone," Tawny said. "Then it's totally a date. Phrasing is everything."

I sighed. "That doesn't make me any less nervous," I said.

"I'd be nervous too," Tawny said. "It's a pretty big step. If anything, I would've picked the dance."

"Really?" I asked, looking up at her. "Why?"

"Well…" Tawny took another bite of her food, and casually took her time with it before answering. "Dark room. Alone. Sitting next to a guy. Or dimly lit room. Surrounded by people. And able to hold him at arms length if you need to." She turned to face me again. "I mean, what do you do at the movie, if he tries to put his arm around you?"

"Jeez…" I said, looking down at my half-eaten tray of food. "The dance is sounding better and better. Maybe I should tell him I changed my mind."

"You mean, not go out with him?" Tawny asked.

"I mean, ask if he wants to go to the dance," I said. "It could be fun."

"If it helps in your decision, I'll be at the dance," Tawny said. "Rachel is dragging me there."

"Are you and Rachel…"

Tawny laughed. "Not even," she said. "Rachel's got her own thing going. She just likes to drag me along. Dances. Pool parties. Cheerleading clinics. Cheerleader gatherings." Tawny decided to take another chance with her apple. "Anyway… I'll probably just hang out with Tiff all night. She said she'd go if I go." She sank her teeth into the apple, and chewed it for awhile. "But hey… if you go, I'll save a dance for you."

"Thanks," I said, smiling at her.

I spent the rest of lunch time, picking apart my food, and listening to some of Tawny's issues. Apparently, her parents were fighting a lot with her older sister, Lynne. She had always been on the rebellious side, but now she was threatening to move out. Unfortunately, she was wanting to make a statement of it, and move in with two older guys. Her parents were having a tough time trying to juggle the problem.

Honestly, I didn't know what advice to give Tawny. My own brother, Justin, had gone through something like this the year before. The second he turned eighteen, he cashed in his savings bond; left to him by our father. Then he quickly packed up his things and moved out with a couple of his former football teammates. He wasn't even far away, but I didn't want to visit him. Mainly because those former teammates were the ones running me down to Nathan, behind Justin's back.

All I could do was listen to Tawny; try to understand what she was going through. At least, as far as anyone knew, Lynne didn't have problems with alcohol. Justin struggled with that. It would even be weird to go over to their house, and not witness Lynne and Tawny having a battle of wits. The two were always at each other's throats, but at least they made it entertaining.

"So…" Tawny said, as we gathered up our trays. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

"Actually," I said. "I don't know if I'll be seeing two of you, or two of Tiffany."

"Oh… right," Tawny said. "Twin day. So looking forward to that."

I laughed at her sarcasm. "I thought cheerleaders were supposed to be all about school spirit," I said.

"Yeah," Tawny said. "Go us… Team and such…"

"You already tired of it?" I asked, as I dumped my tray.

"It's alright," Tawny said. "I figured I'd get to do more tumbling." She dumped her tray. "But they only do that on junior varsity and varsity. Freshman cheerleading is kind of boring." She dropped her tray in the collection bin, on top of mine. "Just chanting, and kicking."

"At least you look good in the uniform?" I offered, giving her a smile.

Tawny rolled her eyes. "I'm thinking of going back to gymnastics until junior year," she said. "I've been having a lot of fun working with the kids too."

"That's cool," I said, beginning my walk to the next class. "Might as well do what you enjoy."

"Yeah," Tawny said, joining me. "I know Rachel will give me crap about it." She shrugged. "But I wasn't doing it for her anyway."

"I wish I could say that about certain things in my life," I said. "That I wasn't doing them for others."

"You eventually found your way," Tawny said. "Despite the bumpy road." She looked over at me. "And none of us expected you to get hurt by any of it."

"I know that," I said. "We were all just having fun, and then…"

"Things got serious," she said.

"Yeah…" I stopped at my locker. "Still… I wouldn't change any of it."

Tawny studied me for a moment. "I think there would be a few things I'd change," she finally said.

"Like what?" I asked, while digging through my school books.

"Not exactly enough time for that discussion," Tawny said. "I gotta get to class." She put her hand gently on my shoulder. "Later."

I turned my head over my shoulder. "Later," I said.

Tawny's statement had me wondering about what exactly she would want to change. I watched her walk away for a moment, considering the possibilities. Maybe she meant things about herself. I never knew with Tawny. She had to be the most complicated person in my circle of friends. Even Amber no longer baffled me. I knew exactly what made that girl tick now. Tawny, on the other hand, could change directions faster than a hummingbird.

I shut my locker, and headed for my next class. Music Appreciation was the most laidback class I had. We could sit anywhere we wanted. Everyone called it an easy A, or clap-for-A's. I appreciated music, but I also appreciated the spot in which the class took place. It helped me unwind from the first part of the day, before drama class got me wound up again. So I called it my buffer class. Unfortunately, there were days when drama overran that buffer.

"What do you think about all of this Y2K stuff?" Carla asked, as she grabbed my arm and pulled me over to a chair.

Carla lived on the street behind me, and had for years. I never really knew her, until Nancy decided to be friends with me. Carla simply got dragged along for the ride. The two of them were nearly inseparable. Sometimes they had their little spats, but they were like Laurel and Hardy; only the stranger female version. Nancy held grudges with others, however, and kind of took it personally when I disappeared for a year with no word. Carla seemed to forgive and forget; not even needing the whole story.

"Y2K?" I asked. "The computer thing?"

"It's not just computers," Carla said. "According to this article I read, the whole banking system is probably going to collapse. It could be the end of the world!"

"Carla…" I looked at her thoughtfully. "Was the article in a fashion magazine?"

For as long as I had known her, Carla always had the latest fashion magazine at hand. She loved staying educated about the latest fashion trends. Most of the time, however, she couldn't participate in them. Her family didn't have a lot of money to spare on the latest trends. I guess they figured the magazines were cheaper than the outfits in them. The problem with Carla's fashion magazines, though, was sometimes the articles got her imagination running wild. I worried this was one of those times.

Carla shook her head. "No," she said. "This is a serious thing, apparently. People are stocking up on food and stuff."

"Carla," I said, putting my hand on her arm. "I'm sure they'll get it all sorted out."

"I hope so," Carla said. "I'd like to finish high school."

I smiled at her. "We'll be fine," I said, giving her a wink. It must have been nice to have high school graduation as the biggest concern in life. I glanced across the room. "I think Nancy wants you."

Carla looked across the room at Nancy. "I don't know why she won't talk to you," she said. "It's not like you really abandoned her."

"I should've called," I said. "A lot of people."

"It's not like she didn't have other friends," Carla said, standing up. "Like me."

"Hey," I said, gaining her attention. "Got any Y2K fashion tips?"

Carla's eyes lit up. "I do!" she said. "I'll stop by later this week."

"Sounds good," I said, giving her a smile.

"Talk to ya later," she said, hurrying away.

The next forty-five minutes passed by with rhythmic applause. At least that's what it felt like most days. While the class was fun and all, it could get boring pretty fast. I figured it would be more lectures on music. Or perhaps listening to music and giving our thoughts on it, or even writing reports. Eventually it ended, and I found myself in my wildcard class; drama.

"I have had the worst day," Amber said. She plopped down next to me, dropping her bag on the floor.

"The whole thing with Nathan this morning?" I asked.

Amber looked puzzled for a moment. "Oh, that," she said, waving her hand. "Nah. That was just the base layer on the whole shit outfit." She pulled a notebook from her bag, and looked at me with her eyes wide. "Do not mention I said that in front of my dad."

"No worries," I said, chuckling. For the short time I'd known her, Amber had introduced me to some of her dad's favorite sayings. They were interesting, to say the least.

Amber went back to digging in her bag. "First hour I realized I grabbed the wrong folder from my locker," she said. "And the teacher wouldn't let me go back and get my assignment."

"Oh, that sucks," I said, watching her sit up in her chair.

"He told me I could turn it in tomorrow, but it would be marked down for being late." She rolled her eyes. "Then our gym teacher lost track of time, so we had like two minutes to shower. So I basically bathed in shampoo."

"I was wondering what that was," I said, giving her a half smile. "You smell good."

"Thanks," she said, pausing to smile. Then her smile quickly dropped. "But yeah… I felt weird all morning. Like too silky, or something." She held her foot up. "Also, slippers suck. I kept stepping out of them all day, and my feet were cold." She let out an exaggerated sigh. "I'm probably not doing this again. But whatever… How was your day?"

"Um…" I gave her a wincing look. "Not good." Then I thought about it. "Well some of it could be good," I recanted. "There was a part in the middle that sucked."

"Find your seats, quickly!" Miss Castile shouted, as she hurried up onto the stage. "We have a lot to get through today."

"Well I, for one, hope the sucky parts are over," Amber said.

"I'll tell you about it later," I said.

"Take the bus home," Amber said. "So we can talk."

"Uh… sure," I said. "I don't want to talk on the bus though."

"Nah," Amber said. "We can hang out on my porch."

"Alrighty," I said.

Jillian hurried over to us. She sometimes talked to other sophomores before the bell, but for some reason liked sitting with us better. Looking around, I couldn't find Tiffany anywhere in the auditorium. Usually Tiffany would beat Amber here, if anyone, but now she was running dangerously close to being tardy. I looked over at the door, and saw her nearly dive into the first chair; right as the tardy bell rang.

I leaned over to Jillian. "I'm going to take the bus today," I said.

"Okay," Jillian said. "I wanted to ask you something though."

"What's that?" I asked.

Miss Castile waved her hands over her head, trying to get the attention of the class. "Quiet please!" She shouted. "Settle down…"

"I'll ask you later," Jillian whispered.

I nodded silently, turning my attention back to Tiffany. After a bit of effort, I managed to catch her attention, and gestured for her to come join us. She carefully got up from her chair. Then she slinked down the row she was seated on. Nobody seemed to take notice of her moving along. Eventually she made it to the aisle, and hurried across to take a seat on the other side of Amber.

"Today I'm going to be assigning you to groups," Miss Castile said, from the stage. "Think of it like your theater support group. You'll be working on projects with these groups, and also critiquing each other on other assignments." She held a notebook up over her head. "Now this class has thirty-six students, but it's a rather odd ratio of ladies to gentlemen. At least compared to my other classes. So instead of groups of four, we'll be doing groups of six."

"We probably screwed ourselves on this," Jillian said quietly.

I turned to her. "What do you mean?"

"Well, she probably sees us sitting back here together every day," Jillian said. "So she'll probably split us all up."

"I was kind of hoping we could pick our own groups," Amber said, with a pout.

"Maybe we still can," Tiffany interjected.

"Now," Miss Castile said, drawing our attention. "I'll be assigning the groups. Five of the groups will be four ladies, and two gentlemen. One lucky group will be three and three." She eased herself down on the front edge of the stage. It seemed like her favorite place to perch. "I want you all to feel comfortable for the most part, but also branch out a little," she said. "So… without further ado…" She gestured to two guys sitting together down front. "Could you two gentlemen join the ladies in the back?" Miss Castile held up her other hand, gesturing toward us.

"Wow," Amber said. "That was painless."

"For the most part," I said, watching Vince stand up. He was joined by another boy named Nick; which was about all I could remember about him.

Little by little, Miss Castile divided us into groups. She somehow managed to keep groups of friends together. "As you can see," she said. "I'm not heartless. I'm giving most of you the chance to work with someone you know." She held up her finger. "But be warned! If I find any of you slacking off, we will go another route."

"I cannot believe how cool she is," Amber said.

"Take a moment to get to know each other, if you don't already," Miss Castile said, her voice projecting throughout the auditorium. "I'll be going group to group, handing out critiquing sheets. Starting today we're going to be working on stage presence."

"Ugh…" I groaned. "I don't think I'm ready for working on stage presence."

"It's probably not that bad," Nick said. "Just basic exercises."

I looked over at him. "Like…?"

"Like she'll probably just have us read something," Vince interjected. "Maybe work on posture."

"Sounds fun," Amber said, offering her hand to Vince. "I'm Amber."

Thus started the introductions. Amber, Jillian, Tiffany and I introduced ourselves to Vince and Nick. I even managed to forget for awhile my past with Vince. Sure, he took advantage of the situation with Tiffany, but I put them in that situation. I thought it would help us all out. Both of them needed their parents off their backs. I needed space to cool off, and think things over. Now, however, it seemed I had a lot more to think about.

---

 
 
To Be Continued...