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4 - Conversation (edited)

SURPRISE FOR ALL YOU EWAS READERS IN THIS CHAPTER.

also edited :)

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4 - Conversation

Maya Sumedh

 “Tell me about your high school.”

 Luke leaned his head back against the wall and looked at me. We’d been sitting on his bed for about half an hour.

  “Why?”

I smiled a little. “I think I have a rather skewed vision of what American high schools are like.”

 He cocked his head to the side. “How so?”

 I grinned at him. “You really wanna know?”

 He raised his eyebrow. “And why would I not want to know?”

 “I dunno, I might offend you,” I said, shrugging.

 He grinned. “Nah, fire away.”

 “Well,” I said, “For starters, in all the books I’ve read and movies I’ve watched there is always, I repeat, always, the whole cheerleader-jock cliché thing. And the head cheerleader is always blonde. And a slut. And called Tiffany, or some other equally stripper-ish name. The jocks are idiots. The main character is always the only sane person in the school. She’s a nerd, and gets picked on by the head jock for no apparent reason. The guy is smirking his face off half the times and is a total man-whore. Everyone is hormonal and has a crazy as fuck sex life. It’s a sin to be a virgin at eighteen. The bullying is fantastic. And practically everyone has divorced parents.” I raised my eyebrow at Luke. “Please don’t tell me that that’s what America is really like.”

 He looked at me for a moment, blinking.

 “Whoa, what?”

 I giggled at his expression. “Well, you Americans think India is all dancing snakes and elephants, don’t you?”

 “No,” he muttered, going red in his ears. I felt my mouth rise up in a grin and then we both fell about laughing like absolute goofs – and I wasn’t really sure why – for a few minutes before sobering up.

“That’s…I dunno, true in some very, very limited parts,” Luke said, looking at me. “You’ve never been to the States?”

 I shook my head. “Nope. Europe, yes. Australia, yes. Hell, even Africa. Come to think of it, I don’t actually know why we’ve never gone there.”

 He nodded. “Well...we do have cheerleaders, I guess? And jocks. And yes, there is a certain…er, social divide. But it isn’t as ferocious as it is in the movies. More often than not, Hollywood gets it wrong.”

 I chuckled. “I know, I guessed as much, after watching Mean Girls.”

 He grimaced. “That movie…”

 “Sucks ass?” I offered.

 “Yep,” he agreed, laughing.

 “I’m actually surprised you’ve seen it.”

 “It’s a long story,” he muttered, looking down.

 I laughed. “So, I’m guessing you must be one of those kids, right?”

 He looked up at me, eyes narrowed. “Those kids?”

 I shrugged. “You know, the we’re-so-cool-and-popular kids. Football team. All that crap.”