One Summer- Under reconstruction

Chapter two.

{Well, this is still going to be a slow chapter. But by next chapter, or by chapter four, things should get interesting. So yeah, enjoy, comment, vote, rate, drink a smoothie, kill a donkey. Bye-bye! -Lexi}

"Tell me!"

"No." Nate said, grinning as we walked into our fourth period class, math.

"Yes!"I said angrily, through clenched teeth.

"Nope." Nate said, popping the 'P'.

"Damn you, Nate, tell me!" I clenched my fists.

Nate walked on, grinning still, and sat in his seat which was, unluckily for him at the moment, right in front of me. I sat down, too, the anger not diminished.

"Tell me!" I whispered fiercely, poking Nate with the eraser end of my pencil.

"Ms. Ramiro, Mr. Bradford, do you have something to share with the class?" Mr. Stevens, our math teacher looked at us angrily. I shook my head. "Good, now, back to our theorems." I almost gagged.

Don't get me wrong. Math is easy for me. I've never really had trouble with math. In science, if a test had more maths then anything, I'd ace it. If it was more theories and laws, I'd flunk. It was like a law within itself. I really only like math for one truly selfish reason. For me, the math was all there. You could do a million things to the equation, and it would still be the same. What I mean is, two plus two, they equal four. Four divided by two equals two. It's just another way of saying the same thing. I'm not really sure how to explain it exactly. It's just easy for me. It calms me.

This however, did not calm me. Mr. Stevens wanted us to try to find a way around the laws of math, and figure out an equation, without the use of a law, and get the correct answer.

The rest of the class period I spent zoning in and out, occasionally poking Nate with my pencil. By the end of the class he had grown irritated, groaning as I poked him again. I stifled a giggle.

 When the bell rang, just as I was about to poke Nate, he turned sharply and grabbed the pencil.

"What?" I asked innocently.

"Damn it." Nate muttered, releasing the pencil and hurriedly walking away. Damn it, I still wanted to bug him about the secret.

I went to my next period, gym. In my gym class I had my friends, Mackenzie Stroup and Natalie Campbell, with me, both of which I had known since the sixth grade.

I had met Mackenzie Stroup in the sixth grade, during language arts when we had been paired up together. We ended up winging the project and nearly failing our first test because we had spent all our time talking rather than working. Mackenzie was short, like really short. I'm barely 5'6, and she barely reaches the five foot line. She had fiery red hair, and hazel eyes. She gets excited really easily. This was cool, because you didn't need to work hard to please her. She was pale, paler than me. This is hard to establish. Sometimes I feel like giving her an award for achieving that.

Natalie was a brunette. Secretly, I wondered if she was actually blonde. She spaces out a lot. She's dark-skinned, with light brown eyes. She's thin and tall, too. If guys had the 'tall, dark, and beautiful', she'd be a winner. Natalie is actually really smart. She studies, gets good grades, and parties hard. Her parents are really well off. Her dad and mom really push her to be perfect. When she and her parents get in fights, she calls me up and we go party for a while.

I don't party. I find it cliché, absurd, and totally ignorant to 'party'. What's so fun about being drunk off your ass, high as cloud nine, and grinding on some dude/chick, and wake up the next morning, with a massive head-ache? The buzz doesn't last long enough to deal with the repercussions later. But Natalie needs it. She doesn't drink, and the one time she did at a party, she came crying to me and asked if I'd drive her to my house and if we could sleepover.