CALISTA
“AAAAAGGHHHGHGHGHGHGHHH!”
I yell like a lunatic when I see my best friends in the whole world, Ellie and Ella, running toward me.
“AAAAAIIIIEEEEEEEE!” they scream back. We hug for about five minutes. We talk at each other for five more minutes, but none of us can hear a word anyone else is saying. People are staring, but we don’t care. We’re back together again, and it’s great.
Then the bell rings, and the school year begins.
DAMIAN
I don’t like it when girls yell at the top of their lungs. It’s really distracting and annoying.
So when I see three girls acting crazy, like one of them just got back from a war or something, I walk by them as fast as I can and go into the classroom.
It’s not until I’m sitting down that I realize one of them is Calista Getz.
CALISTA
We take our seats in first period, and I notice that two of the fluorescent light bulbs in the ceiling are flickering. Seriously? On the first day of school? No wonder the teachers are always complaining about budget cuts.
“I can’t believe you’re sitting next to Patrick Toole,” Ellie whispers from two rows away.
“Ssssshhhhh!” I say. Ellie looks wounded, so I add, “Oh, don’t be so sensitive.” People take everything I say and do so seriously. It’s kind of ridiculous.
I glance over to my right. “Hey, Patrick.”
Patrick smiles, and his white teeth practically blind me. Okay, not really, but his teeth are extremely white. Also, you could probably build a swimming pool in one of his dimples.
“Did you have a good summer?” he asks.
“It was okay, I guess.” Rule number one: Never sound too excited in front of a guy.
“Cool.” Patrick looks down. He’s shy in front of me. Everyone is shy in front of me, except the obnoxious boys—like Patrick’s friend Will Hanson, whose only goal in life is to show off in front of his friends.
“Looking super hot, Calista!” Will says, right on cue. “Like, solar system hot!”
I try to laugh, just to be nice. I do that a lot—try to make boys feel better by laughing at their jokes. The truth is, I’m a nice person, but because I’m pretty, people don’t always believe it.
“Shut up, Will,” Patrick says, then turns back to me. “I’m glad you had an okay summer.”
“How was yours?”
“Good, thanks.”
Patrick is the me of boys. He’s really cute. Everyone always thinks we should become boyfriend and girlfriend, even though I barely know him. People don’t care about that, though. They just think the two most good-looking kids in the grade should go out. I guess that makes sense.
“Let’s get started,” says our teacher, Ms. Harnick, and my conversation with Patrick is over.
For now.
Text copyright © 2017 by Tommy Greenwald
Illustrations copyright © 2017 by J.P. Coovert
