I frown and snatch the cigarette away from my best friend, pissed off that she would sell me out in front of our other squad members.. "He doesn't have a thing for me," I mutter and take a puff. "I haven't even talked to him," I lie.

"Oh come on!" Heather rolls her eyes at me. "He was so staring at you in history yesterday. I know you saw him too...you kept telling me what a weirdo he was."

I look at our other two companions for help, but they don't look sorry for me at all. Their eyes are lit up, and I know they're amused by all of this. It's a change for them, a big one. We don't get too many new kids in our school, and when we do...they're never as different as Justin Timberlake is.

"We saw it too," Tiffany points out. "We're in the same class as you. Thank god he wasn't there today. The guys would have killed him."

Krissy smiles. "I would have paid to see that."

"And what's with those suits!" Heather exclaims. "It's like he's living back in 1947 or something. And the hair is totally totally out of whack. He's like disco fever meets the Beaver or something."

The other girls laugh, but I don't join in. Normally I would, but I don't know...I just feel bad I guess. I have no idea why. They're right. He's a dork. A weird dork, who wears suits and has a strange personality. "You guys should cut him a break," I find myself saying. "He's new here, and where he comes from they probably do things differently. You know, me and Heather were newbie's freshman year."

Tiffany gives me an odd look. "Mere, we were all new freshman year."

"Dork," Heather nudges me. "But seriously, don't be cruel to Mere guys. It's not her fault she has a crush."

"Uh oh, Ricky's not gonna like that," Krissy giggles. "You know how possessive he is, and between Urkel and him...I just don't know how the fight would turn out." She rolls her eyes sarcastically, and finishes the last drag of her cigarette.

I step back from my three friends and fold my arms under my breasts. "Ricky can go fuck himself," I grunt. "And I don't have a crush."

"Ricky doesn't have to fuck himself when you're around," Tiffany snaps.

I look at Heather quickly. My heart is racing and my eyes are wide. Sometimes I really hate being friends with these girls. They're all so fake, and greedy. They'll be your friend one minute, but as soon as you embarrass yourself or say something they don't' agree with it's like your this horrible person.

Heather smiles a little, and I know she's going to try and change the subject before things get ugly. "I wonder how big he is?" she laughs.

Krissy cocks her head to the side. "Ricky?"

"No, dumb ass. Urkel," Heather corrects her.

"Oh, shit," Krissy laughs. "I bet it's one of those long, skinny things that just hangs there limp all the time."

"Are you kidding?" Tiffany shakes her head in disgust. "You can't give him that kind of praise, Kris. The thing is probably three inches long."

"Oh yeah!" Heather laughs out loud. "I bet it's like a big toe."

And we all say "Ewwww", in unison.

"That's disgusting," I say, with a shake of my head. "That's just...wrong."

"Yeah a big toe," Krissy cackles. "And last night he probably went home and jacked it off to a vision of you, Mere."

"We so need to find out how big it is," Tiffany decides. "Meredith, Ricky likes you. Tell him to pants Urkel in the hallway or something."

I start to sweat. I can't say no to them, because if I do they'll get pissed and start to treat me like garbage. The worst thing they can do is shun me, and they know it. Being in their circle is the best thing that could have ever happened to me. Because of them, I have friends, I have boyfriends. I'm respected by my peers, and I can get away with mostly anything. Losing that would mean the end of my life as I know it. But at the same time, I cant' go and tell Ricky to do that to the poor guy. I know he'll do it. Ricky loves to pull that kind of crap. "I...I have to go to class." I put out my cigarette and start to head for the door.

"You're such a wimp, Mere," I hear Tiffany call back to me, and I stop myself from leaving. I turn back around to face them. Of course, Tiffany and Krissy look pissed because I've ruined their fun. But Heather, being my best friend, looks like her mind is at work. She's trying to come up with yet another split second idea to dig me out of the hole I'm in.

"Meredith wait...I know," she smiles. "You have class with him again, don't you?"

"You have more than one class with him!" Tiffany smirks. "That's so gross."

"We had French with him last period," Heather informs the other girls with a smile. "You should see him in there. The teacher wants to fuck him."

"Ooo!" Krissy exclaims and slides off the top of the sink. "Mere, ask him! He'll tell you...he likes you!"

"What!" I look at them like they've all gone crazy. "No way!"

Tiffany opens her mouth to convince me why I should ask him, but then the bell rings and I've never been more thankful. I rush out of there, and Heather is immediately at my side, jabbering something about meeting her in the parking lot after class. I nod, and mumble that I'll be there. I'm almost away...but then.

"Hey," Tiffany slides up next to me and gives me a little nudge. "Don't be a little bitch. Just ask him and fill us in later on okay?" She doesn't give me a chance to tell her off either, she jogs a little further up the hallway and catches up with Krissy. Then Krissy says something, they start laughing, and disappear around the corner.

"I'll see you!" Heather calls out to me, before turning and running down the opposite way. "Okay?"

"Yeah," I force a smile and wave to her. Then she opens a class room door and walks inside. The second bell rings, and I know I'm going to be late, but I don't care. My next class is environmental science, and even though I know I have to do well in this class in order to graduate I still don't want to be there. Science is so...drab and boring. I'd rather be in English, being whisked away to magical ancient worlds, or to modern futuristic worlds with flying cars and aliens that speak all different languages. But English was first period, so unfortunately I have no choice.

I end up reaching Mr. Felp's room about ten minutes later, because I've been walking so slowly. I peer in the door's window, and I swallow hard, because I see him standing at the front of the class. He's looking down at the textbook in his hand and moving his free one in the air. I know he's lecturing already. Damn, this is gonna be ugly. I hold my breath and open the door.

And every head turns my way.

"Why Miss Conner," Mr. Felp shuts the book in his hand and shoots me a sarcastic smirk. "How nice of you to stop by this afternoon. I hope the scheduled time for my class hasn't interrupted anything you might have had going on."

I feel my face turn red, and I bite my lip as I swallow back the fear in my throat. "I'm sorry for being late, Mr. Felps."

His sarcastic smirk falls into an angry, displeased one, and I know it's time for me to get what I deserve. "Miss Conner, if you insist on keeping up your tardiness you might as well save yourself the effort, not show up, and take your F in pride. I put up with this last year when I had you, and I'm not going to do it again."

The whole class seems to go 'ooo' at once, and I'm mortified. I look around, and I'm so thankful when I see Jenny Lawrence, another friend of mine, seated at the back of the class. She laughs at me a little, then rolls her eyes and points the empty seat beside her. I feel relief begin to take over me, and I start to make my way to the back of the class room, but then....

"Miss Conner."

I groan a little, and turn back around. "Yes, sir."

"We have assigned seating in my classroom, and you missed your chance to pick your own seat by being late." He smiles, and I know he's loving this. "So, you can sit there." And he points to a desk in the second row. I look... and then...oh god...

Justin is sitting at that desk. His face is buried in a book though, and the only thing I can see right now is his massive afro. After a moment he looks up from the book. Then he spots me and frowns a little, before returning to his reading. I hear the other kids start to laugh, and I wish like hell I hadn't been late today. If I hadn't, I would have blended right in; and Mr. Felps wouldn't' have cared where I was sitting. God, I'm going to kill Heather for dragging me into the bathroom. I really need to stop smoking.

"Urkel," I hear somebody say it very quickly, and the class roars with laughter.

It causes me to lighten up a bit, and then I make a smart comment as I've been known to do when I'm in an embarrassing situation. "And I'm Laura Winslow." Then more laughter ensues, but this time they're laughing with me...not at me, and I smile. I've dug myself out of the hole. I look at Justin, but he hasn't reacted to the joke. He's still staring at the book, and I wonder if he's really reading, or simply trying to hide his emotions from the rest of the class.

"Settle down," Mr. Felps orders, and then shoots me another disapproving look. "We don't have all day, Miss Conner."

I sigh, and reluctantly make my way over to the desk. Thankfully, this is a science classroom, so the desks are much wider, providing space for lab work. The only downfall is you have to sit in pairs, which means that for the rest of the semester I'm going to have to sit next to Justin. But hey, he's smart right? Maybe if I warm up to him, he'll be nice and help me pass. And I need to pass. I drape my book bag over the back of the stool and take my seat, before yanking out my notebook. I glance at Justin, but doesn‘t lift his gaze from the book. Damn, this science book is far from exciting. I should know. I took this class last year, and failed. That's why I'm here. Fate really loves to fuck me over sometimes.

He's wearing a suit again. Yesterday it was navy blue, with little gold cufflinks and matching trousers. Today it's a chocolate brown blazer with a matching tie, slacks, and a white button down dress shirt. Jesus. How can he be comfortable that way? I hear Mr. Felps begin to lecture again, and I'm immediately bored out of my mind. All I hear is ‘Wah wah wah...,' like in the Peanuts cartoons when the kids are in school. I try to amuse myself with something. My pen...my paper...hmm, pen and paper...

This could be interesting.

I silently rip a piece of paper out of my notebook, hoping like hell this will work. If this works, Tiffany and Krissy will think I'm a goddess. A suit again? I write. Didn't you learn your lesson yesterday? Then I nudge him a little. He looks at me, and shoots me a confused glare. Then I slide the paper over to him, and smile a little bit.

He looks at the page, and makes a stupid face at me but he doesn't write back. He slides the paper away from him, and starts to pay attention to Mr. Felps' boring lecture. Man, no way. He's not going to ignore me. But...what can I do? Hmm. I eye his notebook. It's one of those really fancy leather ones that you buy at Staples when you're a big shot executive. Why would he bring one of those to school? My mischievous side starts to take over immediately. I take my pen, and draw a big line across the front of his notebook cover. Then he gasps and looks over at me, like he wishes I were dead. His eyes are cold and angry, and I swallow hard. Maybe I shouldn't have done that...

He yanks the page towards him angrily and scribbles something down on it, before shoving it my way again.

What the hell is your problem?

Nothing, sorry about that. I just want to talk to you. I can get you a new notebook. I write back.

For a moment he hesitates, and I worry that he's just going to ignore me again, but then he slides the page over to himself and jots down a response. Then he shoves the paper back over to me, without giving me a second glance.

I respond: Oh come on. Look, I'm sorry about that I really am. I'm just curious about your suits, that's all. I mean, nobody else wears them here besides you. If you stopped wearing them, people might cut you a little more slack.

My grandmother makes me wear them. My clothes don't account for who I am.

I smile a little. The little bugger is a lot tougher than I thought he was. I start to write another sarcastic comment on the paper, but then the girl in front of me turns around and hands me a pile of papers. I sigh. Great. I gotta put the fun on hold, for the moment anyway.

"I'm passing out a worksheet that you need to work on together until the end of the period." Mr. Felps announces, taking a seat behind his desk. "Talk quietly about the work, and if you have any questions you may approach my desk."

Justin of course, doesn't hesitate. He immediately starts working on the paper, paying me no mind. I look at my own worksheet...conversions. Yikes. I'm horrible at conversions...but I bet Justin is great at them. I crane my neck slightly, trying not to make myself obvious as I try to see his answers.

But of course, he's prepared.

"Do you mind?," he whispers in annoyance, covering his paper so I can't see it. "Stop copying me, and do your own work."

"Well, I wouldn't be trying to copy you if you weren't smart," I counter. "You should be flattered."

He doesn't' answer.

I get bored very quickly. I don't know how to do the work, the guy sitting next to me is a geek with an afro, and the only girl worth talking to in this class is sitting in the very back of the room. I look over at the braniac again, and since I'm so bored, and since this class is far from over...I decide to make another attempt to be his friend. I mean hey, it can't be that bad. It's not like I would talk to the kid around my friends. Lord. No way. "Hey." I nudge him with my elbow. "Hey, um...Justin."

And he drops his pencil. It rolls across the desk and stops just inches from my own notebook. It's one of those skinny little lead pencils that you have to keep refilling all the time. Damn, that refill lead is expensive too. Stupid rich boy. Oh wait, no...I mean, smart rich boy.

"What. Do you. Want?," he mutters, pissed off that I've stopped him from completing his assignment again. His steely blue eyes bore into my own, and I stare back at them. They're different...nice. I think I might be able to stare into them all day if given the chance. Actually, now that I'm looking at him more closely, he doesn't seem all that cold. Sure, he‘s annoyed, but I can tell that normally, Justin has a sweet, gentle quality about him. Like he just needs to be hugged, or cuddled. Normally I think that kind of stuff is pretty cheesy but somehow it fits with him. Like I'd be willing to do it...with him.

What am I saying?

"I was just hoping that maybe..."

He cuts me off with a angry laugh. "That I could maybe, let you copy my work? Or...give you the answers, because I'm the biggest dork in school and that's the stereotype you know, to copy the dork‘s paper?"

I blink.

"Typical public school this place is." He shakes his head and picks up his pencil again. "Really, I should have listened to my grandmother and gone to Vermillion."

I laugh a little, even though it's mean...but hey, he's giving me the opportunity and he's not being the nicest person to me either. "Just like you listened to her about your suits?"

He narrows his eyes at me. "What exactly, is your problem with my attire?"

"Attire." I choke on my laughter. "You're making it worse on yourself you know."

"Just stop bothering me," he mutters and looks back to his work. "Or I'll tell the professor."

Professor? This kid is definitely from another world. The teachers in this school suck, plain and simple, and they're lucky if we end up referring to them as teachers at all. We prefer to call them assholes, or fuck heads, depending on the day. I shrug. "Like it matters. He hates me anyway."

"You must be very proud of that." He smiles but he doesn't look back at me. "Along with the four or five other classes you're probably already failing."

"Now who's being stereotypical, Justin?"

He draws in a long breath, and I know this is probably as worked up as he gets. I can't picture the kid blowing up, throwing shit around like some of the other guys I know. So instead of getting wide eyed, and cowering in my seat, I remain calm when he says:

"I know your type. You know why you were late to class? You were probably out back, smoking a stogie with your little cheerleading pals, cracking jokes about the new guy in the weird suit. So stop trying to guilt trip me into feeling sorry for you. It's not my fault that you can't pass a simple science course. I have no sympathy for you...none," he sends me an icy, cold glare, before hunching back over his paper again.

"Geez," I say, with a nonchalant yawn. "What happened to the nice, dorky kid with the frizzy dog?"

He gets defensive. "He's a Bichon."

Once again, I try my hardest not to laugh. "Sorry. A Bichon Frizzy."

"Frise."

"You're really...something else Justin," I chuckle.

But he says nothing else to me. I think he's pissed off, or being stubborn, or whatever it is. Oh well, it's really not worth it trying to be nice to him anyway. Its obvious he doesn't' want to help me out, so hey...why should I try to help him out and be friendly? I decide it's time to try my work for myself. Hey, I took this class last year right? Surely I remember something. I look down at the paper, and take a deep, confident breath.

Huh?

I whimper. The shit might as well be written in Chinese, because I have no idea what the hell a kiloliter is. I rest my elbows on the table top and lean my head against my hands. "Stupid," I say under my breath, and begin to doodle senselessly on my worksheet.

And then I hear him chuckle.

I look over at him. He's still working on his paper, but this time he has a smug, proud smile plastered on his face. I'd slap it off of him, but god...he's so damn innocent. I don't know why I keep thinking that. Really it's sick. Really, Heather would pull my hair and tell me what an idiot I'm being right now, but I can't help it. I can't help how I feel. I sigh. I think I'm going to have to drop this class, and take like, God, remedial Chemistry or something...

He's still laughing.

This time I shoot him a dirty look. "That's right, let's all laugh at the stupid girl."

After a moment, he finally looks over at me. "I'm the only one laughing, in case you haven't noticed."

"Whatever," I mutter miserably, and write my name at the top of my paper. "Just go...be your braniac self."

"You know," he continues, a hint of playfulness in his voice. "You never told me your name."

"Right," I say, bitterly. "And I never will."

He sighs at my stubbornness. "What don't you understand," he says softly, and shakes his head. "This work, it's like...grammar school easy."

He's making me feel stupider with each passing moment. Really, I never thought a kid in his situation would ever make me feel like less of a person. I guess I don't know him at all. I guess I still have a lot to learn about life, and people...especially people I don't really know. "It's not easy for me," I tell him, sucking in my bottom lip so he wont see it trembling. "Sorry I'm not this big intellectual. I'm sorry I'm not as good as you are."

He chews the end of his pencil for a few moments, seemingly deep in thought, before he responds. "Look, I never meant to come off that way." He frowns at me. It's a guilty frown, and it makes me feel a little bit better. It means I'm still cooler than him in his book, and that's a good thing. I can still intimidate. I'm still in control. "I've had a hard couple of days," he continues. "And you know, I've tried to be your friend from the beginning. You haven't been the nicest."

And I sigh. "But I haven't been the meanest, either."

He considers this, and nods after a moment. "I guess I can give you that much."

I crack a small smile, thankful that I'm finally getting somewhere with him. "It's Meredith," I inform him.

He chuckles and eyes my work paper. "I can see that."

I have to laugh along with him. "Dork."

"Do you have a partner for this thing?," he asks me quickly.

I give him a stupid look. "What thing?" Really, I have no clue what he's referring to, even though I probably should. I have a hard time focusing most days. I can't take in everything the teachers talk about, I have to write it down, and even then...I still forget.

"Um, the really important project," he laughs at me. "The one the professor has been going on and on about."

"Oh, that thing," I laugh nervously, knowing that I should have remembered something like that. In reality, I haven't forgotten about it, not at all. Just, people need to be specific with me. My god, I really am an idiot. "No, I don't. I thought maybe..." I trail off, and smile as the idea hits me dead on. "I would ask you." I eye his paper as he continues to smile at me, and quickly begin to write his answers on my own paper.

"Oh did you," he chuckles. "How do you know some other cool kid hasn't propositioned me yet?"

"Because nobody else knows you, or wants to be seen with you," I chide, and slyly jot down the last answer he has completed. "Plus." I wink. "You like me."

He frowns. "No, I don't."

But I ignore him. "And I need a good grade."

"I don't like you," he tells me, seriously.

I smile. "It'll be good for your reputation," I point out. "Maybe even...get you some friends." Really, that's a lie, but I feel bad being so straight forward with him. Everybody deserves at least one good friend. Well, in my opinion anyway. It kind of makes my heart ache that he doesn't have any...not even one.

Not that I'm going to befriend him or anything.

"Oh yeah," he scoffs, skeptically. "You'll get me up there with your jock friends. You know, the ones that destroyed my lunch yesterday," he mutters. "The ones that tried to...well, the ones that tripped me this morning."

I feel bad for him. Like I felt bad for Mona earlier in the bathroom. I wasn't there, but I know how that goes. Ricky or Teddy tripped him in his Urkel suit and he probably fell on his face. Everybody laughed, he looked like an idiot...anybody else would have cried. My eyes widen a little.

He still came to class.

But I don't let him now how bad I feel, although he can probably see it written on my face. I smile. "Be careful of those boys," I warn him with a giggle. "They're vicious." I eye his paper, and frown at the last problem on the page. The one he hasn't' completed yet. "You should finish that one," I say, pointing to his paper.

He glares at me. "Maybe I'll leave it blank...just because."

I fake a gasp. "Scandalous. The ‘professor‘ would be furious."

But he doesn't get annoyed with me this time. He smiles instead, and I'm almost surprised; but then I think I knew I would be able to get that reaction out of him all along. The girls were right, I guess. I guess I knew it all along. He does like me. He likes me, and boy...am I ever going to use him to my advantage. "Why are you smiling?," I ask him quietly.

But I quickly realize his head isn't in the clouds. He's not fantasizing about a fake world where I'm his girlfriend and he's the captain of the football team. He knows exactly what he's doing, and yes, once again, I'm the idiot...

What's with this kid?

"Your passing grade," he tells me. "It all depends on whether or not I let you team up with me. Gee, looks like I'm not such a dork after all, huh Meredith? I guess I have some power now."

"I could do the work myself," I defend, even though it's a lie. Yeah okay, I could probably do it myself, but I would fail miserably. "I'm not dumb."

He laughs at me again, and this time I really want to hit him. I don't care how innocent or fragile he seems. "No, not dumb," he smiles. "Airhead is the right word. Hmm." He cups his chin in his palm. "Airhead, I wonder...is that in the dictionary Meredith? You do know what that is right, a dictionary?," he grins.

"You know," I say, glaring at him. "You're pretty cocky, considering you're the biggest loser in the history of this high school."

But my words to him don't seem to affect him as much as they should. "I have plenty of reason to be," he says, as if he's on top of the world.

I just don't get him. But, if he can act like this...I guess I can play his little game too. "Cocky huh?" I smile and lean in closer to him. "Tell me," I giggle. "How cocky...are you?" I inch my hand up his thigh and then...I go for it. I touch his groin, and I start to laugh...

And he snatches my hand and squeezes it so hard, I think he might sprain it. There's a pained look in his eyes, like I've just done something so wrong...so out of line, that I deserve to die.

"I..."

He slaps my hand away before I can get another word in. "Forget you. You little..." But he cuts himself short. I can tell already, he doesn't like to be vulgar. "Just, don't touch me or look at me. You're disgusting."

I sit in my seat and stare into space. Really, knowing how right he is about me. Most of the time, it takes a guy a week or two to figure me out; but Justin is so smart that he's gotten me figured out in a single class period. Genius? No, he just pays attention and doesn't put up with stupid immature crap. It makes me hate myself, but then again...I always hate myself. "Idiot," I mutter to myself.

The bell rings a few minutes later, and I miserably pass my paper to the girl in front of me. Mr. Felps of course, doesn't hesitate to remind us that our project proposal's are due on Friday. I gasp. Friday. But that's so soon. So soon and I have no partner. "Friday," I hear myself whimper, and I really wish I didn't. I'm sure Justin heard me, and it only gives him more of a reason to hate me now.

He rises from his seat and plops his leather satchel on the table top, before sending me a dirty look. "Guess who's the loser now, Meredith." He shoves his books and papers into his bag and zips it shut, before slinging it over his shoulder and walking past me.

"Wait," I call after him, like an idiot. "What about..." I jog to catch up with him. "What about class? Aren't we partners?"

He stops at a locker a few sections down from our class room. "You have some nerve, asking me that right now."

I feel my face turn red. "Look, before I...just, please?" I plead. "Please, Justin." I see a few kids pass by me, and I'm sure they know who I am because they're looking at me like I'm crazy. But of course they think I am. I'm standing here, pleading with Urkel himself. But right now, I couldn't care less what they think. I don't only need to pass Mr. Felp's class, but I feel really low, really dirty for what I did to him back there. Apparently he's really sensitive when it comes to...stuff, and I need to respect that. He's not a trashy jock like the guys I know, he's different....

He's different and a small part of me almost envies him for that.

He opens his locker, and yanks some books out of his expensive looking satchel and switches them for the new ones. "Why should I? We both know what's going to happen, Meredith. It won't work out, and I'll get mad...and that just wont be good. I shouldn't be stressed out right now, it's not good for me." Then he starts to cough, and he can't seem to stop. It's seems to aggravate him. He roll his eyes, and digs around in his pocket; producing a small inhaler a moment later. He takes a hit, and takes a deep breath. "Just go, be stupid with your friends," he sighs in defeat.

"Are you okay?" I ask him, worried that there's something seriously wrong with him. Like he has some weird dork lung disease and now it's going to kill him, because of what I did. "I mean I..."

"I have asthma," he mutters. "And I'm fine." He slams his locker door.

I feel guilty, but I'm too selfish, too worried about failing and not graduating with my class to not press him more about the project. "Justin, I'm sorry," I say forcefully. "I crossed the line back there, and I didn't mean to. I really do need your help though. Won't you please reconsider being my partner?"

He laughs bitterly. "It's amazing that this is the closest I'm going to come to making a friend this year; letting the popular girl from down the street copy my work. Hey," he shrugs. "They always told me my brains would come in handy someday."

"I wont copy you," I tell him, trying to be as honest as I can. "I swear, I'll really try Justin. I will."

He rolls his eyes, and adjusts his bag's leather strap. "You can say a lot of things, Meredith. Following through with them is an entirely different concept."

"But I would...I would bring something to the project," I say, convincingly. "I'm really creative. I might not be good with math and the technical things...but I can come up with a lot of good ideas." I smile a little, and when he doesn't turn his back on me I start to get some hope back. "Just tell me what I need to do," I continue. "I'll do it."

"Creative?," he sighs.

"Yeah," I smile.

"This isn't an art project," he mutters.

"I know. Just, here..." I open up the binder in my arms and pull out the project description. "It says here that 40% of the grade is based on creativity..."

He cuts me off. "Creativity doesn't mean fluorescent poster board, with shit drawn all over it."

I gasp, slightly shocked that he's used vulgarity with me. "So you do swear."

"Oh God." He shakes his head. "You know, I am human, contrary to what your peers think," he snaps, causing me to flinch slightly. "See you around," he mutters, and starts to turn away from me all together.

"Justin," I moan, in one last pathetic attempt to win him over again. "Please. A desperate soul is in need here."

Part of him looks like he wants to get the hell away from me, but somehow, something else forces him to stay and listen to me. "Where were you when they tripped me," he mutters. "Laughing with the rest?"

"I wasn't there." I hang my head low.

"Oh but you laughed all the other times. I don't have time for it...I don't Meredith. None of you know me, and what I do, or what I've done..." He shakes his head roughly, seemingly upset about something. If it's something I've done, I don't know. Maybe, but...it seems a lot more personal than that.

"I can't say anything more," I confess, while he runs his hands through his massive curls. "All I can ask you is to please give me a chance. I'll work hard, I'll help all I can. That's all I can say."

After a moment, he clears his throat, and looks up at me again. He glares at me, crosses his arms...but he doesn't leave. He doesn't leave and that's a good thing. "What's in this for me?" He finally asks me. "Are you going to talk to me when your friends are around? Are you going to introduce me around school? Tell people I'm not a big suit wearing freak?"

What do I say to that? I know I can't just have him come and hang out with Heather and the girls and Ricky and Teddy and them. God, they'd tear him apart, and I can't put him through that. But I can't just tell him that. As smart as I know he is, I know he wont understand. "If things were the other way around, Justin; if this were you're old school...and I was the new girl, would you talk to me? Or would you just tell everybody how stupid I was."

He grits his teeth in frustration. "First of all, if this were Harding, you wouldn't' have to worry about being disrespected like that, because people there know how to treat others. Second of all, if you went to Harding, you wouldn't be stupid. They don't accept airheads there."

"Well geez," I chuckle. "I guess it must be heaven on earth in that place. You must have to sign some kind of pact with Jesus to set foot near the place."

He doesn't show amusement. "You're not funny. And I would never...I mean, if I was the popular one here and you were new and different I wouldn't' just...treat you like that. You don't just, treat people like that. You treat them like you'd want to be treated," he informs me. "That's the mature thing to do, until you're able to get to know the person."

The second bell rings, and I know I'm not getting anywhere. Justin isn't going to be late to class, so he can stay behind and fight with me. In a minute, he'll leave and I'll be still be without a partner. Of course that will be okay with Mr. Felps. He said we can work alone if we have to. But...I don't want to do that. I can't do that.

"Mere...what the hell are you doing?"

I hear Heather's voice at my right, and I look over to find her standing beside me, a perplexed expression on her face. She's looking at Justin like he's a freak, and I feel bad, but naturally I don't say a damn thing in his defense.

Justin shakes his head when I don't respond to her, when I don't defend him...when I don't try to be his friend. "Good luck, Meredith," he says to me, bitterly, before turning away.

"Justin," I call pathetically, and Heather looks at me like I belong in the nut house.

He turns around once more, and I'm a little shocked. Damn, after the way I've treated him...why doesn't he just walk away and cut me off for good? "What is it," he grunts.

I sigh. "Partners or not?"

He doesn't answer my question. Instead, he eyes Heather, and my throat tightens slightly. I know this is a test. "Who are you?" he asks her.

I look over at Heather and shoot her a pleading look. God, Heather, please be my best friend right now. "She's my best friend," I tell him quickly, hoping Heather will play along and not embarrass him or degrade him.

He stares at us for several moments, before walking back over to us. Heather glances around, and I'm sure she's trying to see if any of our friends are lurking nearby. I pray that's not the case, but if it is...I can't do anything about it. I'll just have to make up some bullshit story. Some stupid story that will make them laugh at Justin in the end instead of Heather and I.

God, I'm such a little backstabbing bitch.

"You think I'm a loser too, Heather?," he shoots at her, coldly.

"Who me?" She points to her chest, and tries to act like his notion is ridiculous. "God no. I mean, you're different...but I mean..."

I nudge her before she can completely embarrass herself.

Justin crosses his arms. "You're in my French class, right?"

Heather chuckles nervously. "Oh yeah, I totally am. I was meaning to say hi, but I guess I forgot."

She's horrible at lying.

Then he starts to stare at me again. I don't really know what to say to him, but I know if I have any chance of getting my way I better think fast. "See that? Heather likes you, she's in your French class. And I like you. You're cool in our book." I nudge Heather so she'll agree.

"Oh...oh yeah," she smiles stupidly. "Totally...totally cool."

Justin glances from myself to Heather and then back again. Then he takes in a deep, decisive breath. "Fine," he finally tells me. "I'll work on it with you."

I squeal and Heather groans. "Thank you!!" I pull him into a hug, not even thinking about the damage it could cause Heather and myself.

"Great." He forces a smile, and pushes me away from him, seemingly nauseated that I've touched him again. I know it's better this way though. God, I don't know how many people might have seen that. "Partners." He nods, and reaches into his bag. "You'll need my number." He produces a card out of the front pocket of his satchel a moment later, and hands it to me.

"Ooo," Heather cackles. "Getting the digits now."

I look down at the card, not really understanding why a high school student would need a business card...but I guess it's just another thing that makes him different. Different. I need to start accepting the different kind of personality that he has. "You could use one of these, Heath," I chide, and nudge her a little. "You know, you could list all your services."

She laughs. "Bitch."

Justin clears his throat impatiently, and it causes me to snap out of my carefree state and pay attention. Almost like in class...when the teacher yells at me. Damn, am I really that immature?

"We'll have to get together, maybe Saturday so we can get supplies and such. You'll need to work on the hypothesis for Friday too..."

I would stay and chat, really I would, but then I see Tiffany coming down the hall and I'm not about to become the laughing stock of Hanson. Not today. "Okay that sounds great," I say quickly, linking my arm through Heather's. "I'll just call you later...bye!" And I drag Heather away just before Tiffany can spot Heather and I with braniac. God...

"Yo, Urkel," Heather calls back over her shoulder. "Don't go that way. Ricky hangs around there."

Am I hearing things? I turn my head, and Justin is smiling back at us. "Thanks," he calls, and turns down a different hallway. Weird. Heather has never been one to pity the dorks.

But when we turn the corner, she changes back to the Heather I've always known. "What the hell was that?," she exclaims, yanking away from me.

I don't really look at her. "I need a partner for lab."

She laughs. "Fucking Urkel?"

"He's smart," I point out.

"Meredith," Heather says, in a warning tone. "You realize that Ricky is going to kill you, right?"

"No," I shake my head. "Not if he knows that it's just for school, so I can pass my class," I say. "I have to pass Heather. Come on, you know how hard Mr. Felps is on me, and just ...couldn't take it if I got held back another year in this place. I have to move on." I cringe at the thought of getting left behind again, having to go through this entire year all over again. God, I want to live my life. I want to do things, and see things. And...get out of this stupid stereotypical world.

This...the uniform and my hair style and...everything. It's not really me at all. It's who they want me to be. I'm sick and tired of it.

Heather sighs. "You have to be careful Mere. Not to be mean, but you know what hanging around with a dork like that can do to your reputation. And hell, you've come way too far to screw up with this crowd now okay? Just...work with him you know, but don't' tell people. And definitely don't try to bring him around us."

It makes me feel horrible, but I totally agree with everything she's just said. My reputation is precious at this point, it's what's going to get me through this year, and I've worked my ass off to gain this social status. I would never, ever just...try to be nice and bring Justin around our circle our friends. As bad as it is, it would totally screw me forever. And I can't have that. "You think I don't know?" I laugh. "God, I'm not going to. But you know, I wish some of the people would lighten up about him and his clothes. He's really not...all that bad." I cringe at my words. I know the guy is nice, but still he's not normal. Not at all. "Okay so he's kinda weird but, but he's a nice guy, Heather."

But instead of playing mother dearest, Heather switches back into playful mod. "Did you find out his cock size?," she giggles.

I swallow hard, and grab the hand that Justin squeezed. I know I can't tell her what happened, she'll start thinking he's a psycho on top of everything else. "I couldn't. He's too...nice," I lie.

She sighs. "You know the girls are going to be pissed if you don't dish, girl."

"So I'll make up a lie," I tell her. "You know, unlike you I can fib my way out of a situation."

She rolls her eyes. "Great. So be nice and say he's big."

The playful, erotic teenager comes out of me now. I can do this with her, with my friends...because they aren't uptight like Justin is. Lord, I doubt I'll even mention sex around him now that I've experienced his rage about the subject. "I bet it is," I say. "He's tall...got long fingers and all of that."

She stares at me for a moment. "You don't...like him do you, Meredith?"

"God...no." My voice draw slight hesitation, and I have no idea why. But it's not good. God, I don't like him. I don't. He's a dork...

"Oh well this is just great," Heather sighs.

"I don't like him!" I defend. "Heather come on, you know me..."

But she only shakes her head. "You can't like him, Mere. Come on...you know better. You know what will happen."

"God, Heather," I say in disgust and turn on my heel to walk away from her. "I don't like him. I'm practically dating Ricky, and you and I know he wouldn't put up with that. I have too much at stake," I sigh. "God, I'm not that dumb, Heath."

She narrows her eyes at me. "I know you, Mere," she reminds me, as the final bell rings. "Look, we'll talk later okay? I have to run or I'll be late for English."

I chuckle. "Have fun."

She gives me a weird look. "Aren't you going to class?"

I smile at her smugly. "I have study hall."

"God, lucky bitch," she groans.

"I guess, if you consider sitting in the library a party," I smile.

She starts to run off down the hall. "Meet me out by the car after the bell okay?"

"Okay!" I call out to her. "Bye!"

She disappears around the corner, and there's nothing left to do but head down to the library for forty five fun filled minutes of boredom. I stop at my locker on the way of course, so I can grab my walkman. Surely I can't be expected to sit there without some kind of entertainment. After digging through the rubble, my hand finally comes in contact with my possession, and I smile, knowing that some soothing Gloria is well on the way to my ears. But then...

"Hey beautiful." He leans in front of me, blocking access to my path and I know I have no choice but to stand here and listen to what he has to say.

"Oh...hi Ricky," I force a polite smile and shove my walkman into my book bag. "What's up?"

Ricky isn't the tallest guy, but he sure is built. He's the type of guy that makes all the girls swoon. He could have any of them too...even Heather if he really tried. But for some reason, since the day he set his gaze on me, I'm the only girl he's ever wanted. Too bad he's an idiot and I would never completely give in. But...I have to give him something, because...he knows...he knows my little secret. And if I don't behave, and give him what he wants and do what he wants, I'll be exposed and ruined. And as we all know, I just can't have that.

He smiles, just slightly. "What's this I hear about you talking to Urkel?," he chuckles. "Some of the girls seem to think you have a soft spot for the dork."

I give him a stupid look. "What do you mean, Ricky?"

He pounds his fist against he lockers, and I whimper a little. "Don't act stupid," he seethes. "I hate that shit...when you do that. Like I'm not smart enough to figure shit out or something."

I suck in a shaky breath. "Look, Ricky, it's nothing really. We just have a few classes together, and I've been nice to him a couple of times out of pity. That's all it is...I swear. What‘s so wrong?"

He grabs my face, and smiles...it's a sick smile, a twisted one. One that tells me he knows he has complete control over me. I hate this. I hate him. Wait...no, I can't hate him. He's everything I have. "You think I want my girl," he says, shaking me a bit. "Associating with that little shit?"

I sigh, and smile at him. That stupid smile, that tells him I'm just some ditz that he fucks all the time. "Come on Ricky. The girls wanted some dirt on him, so I was on a mission. What are you...jealous?"

He laughs hard, right in my face. "Jealous of what?"

And I giggle. "Exactly."

He finally lets go of me after a moment, but I don't dare move from my position against the lockers. I watch him as he paces a little, and strokes his chin in thought. "Ricky?"

"You know," he says, as if a sudden realization has dawned on him. "We could have some fun with this."

I don't like it. "What?"

He comes back over to me again, and leans over me...pressing his body against mine and my own body into the lockers all over again. "A mascot," he whispers, sweetly seductive in my ear. "We need one."

I laugh because the idea is so nuts. The dork a mascot? A Wildcat? Come on, be serious. "The mascot? You must be joking," I laugh. "I thought Lionel was doing it."

"Oh screw Lionel," he pouts, and begins to touch me in places that he shouldn't be during school hours. "We could have a lot of fun with Urkel," he snickers. "You know, throwing him in the hamper, down the garbage shoot and shit."

Then I let the emotions get the best of me. "Oh Ricky, come on. I feel bad doing that to him. He's new and doesn't know anybody..." And I shoot him a sexy little smile. "Like, when I was new..."

He puts a hand up to my neck, and closes his fist a little, practically cutting off my windpipe...but not quite. "You're going to get him to try out and wear the damn outfit," he informs me.

I sigh, and gently reach up to push his hand away, feeling relieved when he lets me. "Or what, Ricky?"

"Or..." He leans in and kisses my neck gently. "Everybody is gonna find out what your Papi does for a living."

I swallow hard. "Fuck you, Ricky," I whisper. Fed up. I'm fed up with his threats. He does this practially every day now, whenever he sees me. Get me this or I'll tell... Say this to them or I'll tell...

Have sex with me or I'll tell...

I cringe.

And he laughs, deep and spiteful. "Don't mind if I do." Then he kisses me, long, hard, and powerfully; telling me that I'm his and he has all the power. Then he says: "Do it mere."

Somehow, I manage to find my voice. "I'll try."

He backs away from me and smiles. "Hey, it's your reputation at stake, chica. Not mine."

I watch him go...around the corner, probably off to the coach's office to bullshit with him. I don't care. Maybe he'll never come out and I wont have to worry anymore. Sometimes I almost wish I'd stayed unpopular. Then I'd have different friends...maybe even...Justin could be my friend. He's so nice...

No.

This is my life, this is me...and it's a good thing. It's good to be at the level of popularity. I can have anything, do anything, date