2 // Baby, There's a Shark in the Water

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     "WHAT are the chances that we can just stop, turn around now and drive off to Hollywood to become rich and famous and have multiple pretty boys to kiss on rotation until we're ninety eight?"

    Savannah quirked her immaculately groomed eyebrow and shot me a look. "First, negative thirty chance, and second, that does not mean we will not have multiple pretty boys to kiss on rotation when we're ninety, that's still very much happening. Just after we pass Pre-Calc."

      We were sitting in Savannah's car in the parking lot, and even her beautiful, comforting face could not quell the apprehension brewing in my gut. The promise of senior year was only a few feet away, and whatever that held brought a tightness to my chest. Even though I already had three years of high school under my belt, it was a weird feeling I just couldn't swallow.

     I frowned, arms crossed over my chest as I eyed the red brick building in front of us that was Riverview High with distaste. "But mom," I whined, channeling my inner four year old and pouting

     Savannah's crystalline eyes were not impressed. She switched off the ignition, a sigh falling past her pale lips as she turned to me. "Come on Stella, put on your big girl undies and let's go do senior year. If you're good all day today, I'll even buy you a cookie."

      I instantly brightened up, grabbing the dilapidated backpack I'd had since sophmore year from my feet and swung it over my shoulder. "Come on Savannah, let's not be children," I said, a patronizing sophistication dripping from my words.

     The blonde girl rolled her eyes and pushed open the car door, the September breeze tousling her perfectly curled hair. I responded with a cheeky grin and followed suit, taking in a deep breath to calm my frazzled nerves.

     Here I come, senior year.

     We broke through the threshold into the familiar hallways, all linoleum tiles and burgundy lockers, just as we had left them last June. There was a scatter of kids loitering about, the nostalgic hum of conversation steady in the air. I turned to Savannah with a smile turning the edge of my mouth. "My locker first? I think Eva's is near there, and I'm sure she'll sniff us out."

     Savannah giggled, nodding her head and shaking the phone in her hand. "She's been sending me texts every minute since eight this morning, I'm sure her bloodhound senses have already picked up on our presence."

     I snorted, because that was probably true, and began meandering through the hordes of students that were my fellow peers. Among them I saw a couple of familiar faces, and I had to keep a tight grip on Savannah's wrist so that no one dragged her away since she was being bombarded by hugs and high-fives abundance.

     We finally found 2031, my garbage pile away from home, and Savannah leaned against the locker next to it. I fumbled with the lock that appeared to always have some personal vendetta against me, a Madame Zeroni curse if I ever saw one, when a familiar voice floated into my ears.

     "Bonjour mon bitches!" greeted one Eva Martinez, all tanned skin, red lips and aviators, two hands poised in the air holding gift bags

     I shot her a look. "Wouldn't it be mes bitches, because it's plural?"

     Eva laughed, throwing her head back, a devilish grin slipping on her face. "Oh Stella, the only French I learned during my two months in the city of love is what was whispered in my ear by gorgeous French boys." She lifted her sunglasses, perching them amongst her caramel coloured hair and cast me a wink.

     Savannah giggled, hiking her backpack over her shoulder. "Oh we know, you were sure to keep us updated with your emails."

     "Daily and novel-length emails," I added. "Aha!" I'd finally beaten that stupid lock. Not today, Zeroni, not today.

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