Looks can kill

Looks Can Kill: Chapter 2

So, we were walking to algebra. Just as we entered the classroom, the bell rang. Oh, did I mention, only two seats were left, and they were right next to each other? Perfect. Even though it wasn't him, it didn't mean I wanted to get close to Jake. We sat down in those two seats and i sighed. First day, and already I'm going to have a reputation.

I looked to my right at Jake, who was trying to get my attention, and he mouthed 'assigned seats.'

I looked to my left and saw Brooke giving me a dirty look. Oh, perfect.

To make my day even better (note the sarcasm), the teacher told me to stand up. I did.

"Good morning class. As you should know, i am Mrs. Smith, the math teacher. Today we have a new student. Her name is Beth." She loked at me and said, "Honey, why don't you intruduce yourself? Name, age, where your from, and why you transfered here."

I took in a breath and said "Well, obviously, I'm Beth, I'm 16, and I'm a Junior, like everyone else in this room. I'm from vermont, and uhh-" I broke off there.

"Why you transfered here." Said Mrs. Smith.

Oh god. Should I say it? No, not yet. "I transfered here because my Dad got a job transfer here, so we had to move." It was partially true. He did transfer jobs, but not because he was told to. It was because I messed up. Again. Big-time. But I swore that it would never happen again, and this time, it won't. I sat down.

"Okay, thank you Elizabeth now --" I cut her off. "It's Beth. My full name is Beth."

"Oh, I'm sorry Beth. Now as I was saying please turn to page 183 in your math book. As you can see..." I tuned her out. I was thinking my own thoughts when I saw something cross through my line of vision. It was Jake, writing on my blank piece of paper.

He wrote: Why is Brooke glaring at you?

Oh, we ran into each other and she insulted me so I told her she was ugly lol. I wrote back. the page was in between us.

Haha nice. She deserves it. So lovely, how about a game of twenty questions? Get to know each other? 

Oh wow. Just what I wanted, note the sarcasm. Well, I don't want to be rude to the kid. Fine. you first though.

Alright, Jake1: Why did you transfer here? Really, though.  

I already said. My dad got a job transfer here.

Come on lovely. Seriously, why? I know that it wasn't a job transfer that got you here.

Well how do you know that? He is so not finding out. ever.

Because I can read people easily, and I know that you were lying. You stopped before you answered, and you are a confident person. You seemed a little scared for a minute too.

Fine, you caught me. But I'm still not going to tell you why. How about this: if, by the end of the week you still want to be my friend, then I'll tell you.

Fine, deal. He wrote. He reached under the table and shook my hand. He hesitated to let go for a couple of seconds, but he finally did. I looked up at him and he was looking down at his text book, looking sad, like he regretted something. I looked around to see if anyone noticed, and no one did. except for one person. That one person glansed at Jake and then at me and wiggled her eyebrows with a mischevious look on her face, like she was hatching a plan. Crap. So, instead of challenging her or whatever, I gave her the finger and kept talking to Jake.

Beth (1)So, are you from around here?

Well, rather obviously, I live in this town. Washington road. But I'm from New York. My turn, Jake 2: Why are you trying to keep people out.

Oh, that's cool. I live on Washington too. What's your house number?

Ha ha, note the sarcasm. It's not your turn. Stop avoiding the question. Why?

Because I don't know who I can trust around here. And I don't know if I can trust you agai-

As I started to write again, I erased it and then wrote yet. 

Why did you almost write again?

It's not your turn. Beth 2: Why do you keep calling me lovely?

Because you're lovely. So I- it cut off there because I read it, scoffed, and snatched my notebook out of his hands.

Nice joke. Seriously, why? I handed it back. He took the notebook and slid it all the way to his side of the table, so that this time I couldn't take it away. Smart kid. He wrote for around five minutes, me tapping my foot anxiously the whole time, when he finally handed it back.