New guy is a jerk and I'm his buddy [1&2]

Ch3. New guy is a jerk and I'm his buddy

Hey, I know it's really short, but i had my computer confiscated (im a horrible child =D) so I used my jurassic other one. I really shouldn't have written this and should have been studying for my mocks tomorrow, but seeing those votes and my first fans!! YAYYY!!! shout outs to you!!! inspired me to write some more. Its a bit of a blah chapter, but the next one will be sure to be INSANE -but i gotta research some ideas and stuff-. I had to begin the plot and everything so its a filler chapter but as I said before, Im SO excited for the next one. Besides, its the weekend practically tomorrow so I will be writing lots more. More votes+comments = faster chapter production time.

Feel free to suggest ideas for Homecoming, predictions, descriptions of peoples dresses, that sort of stuff.

Chapter 3

As soon I sat down, I heard what everyone was talking about and felt my insides clench. Homecoming Dance. One of the worst things you could inflict on a person who has no dancing ability so to speak of. I mean, I couldn't even bob to music, let alone accomplish some of the moves that my more able friends were able to do. I already went through the whole dancing classes that my unmerciful mother signed me up for. I've tried ballet, hip hop, jazz, contemporary, ballroom, latin, street dance, fusion dance, traditional, you name it. Even after countless sessions in a group and private, I had no dancing skills to speak of. Even the beginners class for dance/aerobics was to hard - the teacher recommended (kindly of course) that I tried another extracurricular activity. The art studio down the hall was much more accommodating. So, to avoid the mortifying problem, I stayed at home with my latest book craze or watch reruns to the television. Plus, I had a very... upsetting experience at a prior dance and did not wish to repeat it under any circumstances.

I snapped out of my reverie when Rebecca began poking my side very determinedly with a rather pointy fork.

'OW! Didn't your mother ever teach you not to poke people with sharp objects? It's potentially dangerous, you know?'

'Whatever! Anyways, I was wondering if you were coming to Homecoming Dance."

Everyone looked at me expectantly, all conversation ceasing for the moment.

I looked at them, unabashed.

'Do I look like the type who dances?'

'Maybe?'

'Be honest Rebecca. I don't dance. Besides, who would take me as their date? It's embarrassing to go by yourself, and I don't seem to see a long line of suitors just waiting to take me to the dance.'

There was a very pregnant pause, which was only broken with Lance suggesting,

'I could maybe find you someone to go with. I mean I would totally ask you if I was still available, but I got Shannon Compton to go with me!'

Shannon Compton was this amazingly beautiful, smart, and totally friendly person that all girls aspired to be and all the guys craved, but when guys fell short of her expectations, they usually went to nurse their broken hearts by sleeping with Nicole. It was impossible to hate Shannon though. She was just too, indescribable. I'm not admitting I have a crush on her; it's more like she's my role model. Off topic. ANYWAYS.

'Seriously?'

'Of course. After all, I AM Lance Stramfield.'

'Stuck up much? KIDDING!! But thanks for the offer. I think I'll pas-'

'I'll go with you.'

It was Max.

Crap.

'Uhh, you sure you want to take,' I gestured at myself, 'Miss Dance-impaired of the year? Because I totally wouldn't want to impose or anything. Because we're friends and all. And you probably have a whole bunch of dates lined up anyways, ready for you to take a bite out of them.'