Heads or Tails

Chapter 1

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"What are you looking at?"

Those were the first five words Ben had ever said to me.

I'd watched him meticulously sort out red M&M's from a candy dish before he shoved them in his mouth.

"Do the red ones taste different? Or are you just a weirdo?" I asked.

He quirked an eyebrow. Studying me in a way that made me think he was both amused and curious about his response. "What do you think?"

I laughed. "I think weirdo."

He grinned goofily. I decided he was cute, in a pretty-boy kind of way. He was clean-shaven bright-eyed, and his dark brown hair was perfectly styled and swept neatly to the side. I'd only seen him once before in the hallway at school. We were only two weeks into the ninth grade, and almost everyone at this party was a new face to me, except for my best friend, Jessica. But she was busy flirting with some guy in the corner.

He tapped his fingers on a tabletop before tossing another red M&M into his mouth. "I think you're wrong."

Our playful squabble began to catch the attention of our peers. The party we were at was exactly what I'd expected: a cliché high school gathering in a dingy basement full of boys on one side of the room and girls on the other. It was an entirely dull scene, and Ben's oddness was the only thing that held my attention all night.

I took a sip of my iced tea before answering. "I think not."

Without hesitating, he stuck his hand back into the dish and pulled out a brown M&M. He held it out to me with a cocky smile.

"Prove me wrong then."

"Fine. I will."

He placed a brown M&M in the palm of my hand.

I popped it into my mouth and tasted pure milk chocolate flavour. It tasted just as I had hoped.

He then placed a red one in the palm of my hand, saying, "Time to taste the difference."

His smug smile encouraged me to crunch down, hoping to disprove his theory. But as a red candy-coated texture began to melt in my mouth, I hated to admit it, but he was right. It did taste different- much sweeter and sugary.

"Well?" he asked.

The look on his face was both playful and boastful. I'd been hustled. I shifted my feet before I nodded in defeat. He fist-pumped the air and then draped his arm around my shoulders. "You passed the test, " he said.

"Test?"

"Yup," he admitted, pulling me deeper into the party's mayhem. "And from now on, I think you and I will get along just fine."

I laughed. "I don't even know your name."

"Ben," he simply replied. "And what's your name?"

"Megan."

He met my eyes and gave me a playful look.

"Can I call you Megs?"

I laughed. "Sure."

"Can I also get you a drink?" he asked.

I stared up at him for several beats before I answered with a yes.

And boy, was I ever happy I did. Ben and I ended up secluding ourselves from everyone at the party. We sat together on a tattered sofa, talking about anything and everything. We discovered we had a lot in common: our sense of humour was the same (deadpan and dry). We both had an estranged father. We both sometimes enjoyed eating pickles for breakfast. We both preferred bare feet to socks, despised Halloween and dressing up in ridiculous costumes and loved spicy food.