true colors - jb & ag 《completed》

{three}

The words blurred in front of Ariana's eyes and her cheek slipped from her fist, but she caught herself before her face smacked into her chemistry text. Finding a table outside at lunch had seemed like a good idea, but her lack of sleep the night before caused the late-summer sunshine to feel like a cozy blanket.

"Hey, there you are." Lisa rushed over, her navy star-covered skirt forming a pouf behind her. She plopped down on the bench across from Ariana and handed her a Coke. "Looks like you need this more than I do."

Ariana sighed as she cracked open the soda, knowing it would make her stomach bloat like a balloon, but too desperate for the caffeine to care. She took in a long sip of the cool bubbles and thanked the girl who seemed determined to be her friend. Lisa Gifford had moved to Gilt Hollow over the summer. She and Ariana had bonded over their love of fried Oreos at the Gilt Hollow Street Fair, and then Lisa had shown up on Ariana's doorstep the next day with two lemon shake-ups and invited her to watch a local band. Lisa had been the first person who didn't treat Ariana like the weirdo who used to be friends with a convict. In fact, when Ariana confessed the whole sordid tale, the ex–New Yorker shrugged and said, "That was a long time ago."

Ariana grinned at the crystal headband holding back Lisa's blonde curls and her swoosh of heavy eyeliner topped by silver shadow. In Gilt Hollow her ultrachic look stood out like a Coach bag at a mud volleyball tournament. But she didn't give a fig what anyone thought. Just one of the many things Ariana liked about her.

"It's the second day of school. How could you possibly have"—Lisa lifted the front of her textbook so she could see the cover—"chemistry homework?"

Ariana took another swig before answering. "We have a quiz this afternoon."

"Okaaayy . . . you know those are just to gauge the students' memories from the previous year. It's not for a grade."

"I like to throw the curve. Gives me an advantage on the first few tests."

"Remind me to never take any classes with you, brainiac." Lisa took a bite of an apple, and her eyes narrowed on Ariana's face.

Lisa opened her mouth to say something, but her words were drowned out by a large group of guys bursting out of the cafeteria doors with a football. They jogged past the table on their way to the green space, and Ariana buried her nose in her book. When the back of her neck tingled, she glanced up and met the pale blue gaze of Colin Martin. He jogged by as he tied his dark blond hair into a knot at the back of his head. In his Nike shorts, topped with a ripped, tie-died T, he was part jock, part tortured poet. And every girl within a twenty-mile radius lusted after him.

Seeing that he'd caught her attention, his lips tilted in a cocky smirk. "Hey, Weepy."

Ariana jerked her eyes back to her textbook.

Lisa leaned forward and whispered, "A good friend would probably be asking why he called you that, but I can't get past his blinding hotness. You know him?"

"Sorta." Ariana began packing her books away. "We used to hang out when we were kids." And he'd been one of the boys who'd testified against Justin.

"I'm gonna need an intro." Her friend's eyes followed Colin's agile form as he snatched the football out of the air and took off toward the Solo-cup-marked end zone.

"Okay, sure." Ariana stuffed the remainder of her lunch into her insulated sack. "Then we can eat a tub of Chunky Monkey and watch chick flicks after he uses you and dumps you on your star-spangled butt."

"Star-spangled butt?" Lisa rose to her feet and rotated her American-flag-print skirt so the stars were in the front and the stripes were in the back. "There. Now can I meet him?"