Chapter 1
Science Project
I sit staring out the window at lunch. I wonder when he'll be back ... When he'll come home.
He's the only one who truly gets me. Sure, there is no possible way for him to fully understand me. If there is, then he'll know how lonely it is to be on your own--especially if you're like me, that is. He wouldn't leave so often in search of unknown things.
I hope he'll be back soon. He gives me something to brighten my day. I don't have to hide anything when I'm around him. I can just be me. I sigh.
"Are you even listening to me?" Rachel asks, stealing me from my thoughts.
"Hm?" I reply.
She folds her arms. "I knew you weren't listening to me. I saw it in your eyes."
I freeze. What did she just say? Did she see anything?
"I'm sorry," I ask politely. "What?"
"Well, as I was saying before, Chase dumped me again. I didn't do anything wrong! I don't get why he keeps doing it. I'm the perfect girlfriend!!"
"If he keeps dumping you then why do you keep going out with him?"
"He's so sweet and innocent! And hot, never forget hot."
I sigh. That's it; love will never make sense to me. I've tried countless times to understand this whole "going out" thing but I guess it just never has clicked with me. Maybe it's something to do with being different. I have no clue.
I absentmindedly play with my food.
"Hey," asks Rachel, "what do you think of that guy over there?"
I look over to the table she's pointing to. I flip my hair a little to the side so I can see. That might be helpful. I see around seven or so guys sitting together, laughing and messing with each other. I wish I could have more relationships like that in my life.
"Rachel, there's about a million guys over there, how am I supposed to know which one you are talking about?" I question.
"Ugh! Isn't it obvious?"
"No, I just said that."
"You see the one in the green shirt with the short haircut?"
"Yeah. Why?"
"What do you think of him? C'mon, I asked this question two seconds ago! You're not focused today, even for you. I mean you usually have that weird look in your eyes but that's become normal I guess and ..."
I tune her out and stare at the guy she pointed at. I recall having him in my history class. His name is Jack.
"I don't know," I answer. "I guess I never thought about it."
"You are the strangest girl I know, Elizabeth Zychite."
I sigh. "I know." I always would be. "Did you have to use my full first name? You know I prefer Liz."
"Oh, I'm sorry! Slip of the tongue!" I notice her trying to hide a smile. Yeah, sure it was a "slip of the tongue." Your smile is definitely not obvious.
I huff, upset at her. My bangs once again cover my right eye. Why do I have bangs again? Oh, yeah, that.
The bell rings so, we walk to science together and take our seats. "So what about him?" She motions toward a guy I've never noticed before.
"Is he new?" I ask.
"I think so," she replies. "He was in my second hour and was talking with the teacher. Why, you interested?"
She nudges my arm. She's smiling. I know it, thinking she's won and finally found someone I like. It seems to be her personal mission to find me boyfriend. Ugh, I don't think she'll ever get it.
I watch the new kid. He sits quietly, reading a book. As I watch him, though, I notice that it's really a cover. I can tell he's really listening to others' conversations. He turns a page. I smile. It's actually a pretty convincing cover.
The teacher walks in and shuts the door. The new guy closes his book and looks around, most likely at the sound of the door. Oh no, is he looking at me? Like, straight at me? I feel as if he's looking directly into my soul, prodding around my thoughts. His unblinking stare gives me a creepy feeling.
C'mon, do something, my brain says. He'll think you're strange, otherwise!
As if I'm not already strange, I answer back.
I make a small smile and wave, anyway. He grins and waves back.
See, says my brain. Was that so hard, now?
In my imagination, I stick my tongue out at it. The teacher begins talking and I listen to her. Today in class, we have a new project. Just what I need: A new project that's so time consuming that I'll fail it and make my grade even worse. Great.
"You will have a partner for this assignment," Mrs. Stuart announces as one of the students passes out papers with information over the project. I follow along as she tells us our assignment. "You two will need to pick a living organism. You have three options. Number one--make a poster over it. Number two--write an essay over it, at least three pages. Number three--create a model of it. All of these must describe your chosen organism. And get creative with it! I want something to remember. Your grade will be based on creativeness, facts, and presentation.
"I will now announce your partners." The class groans since we can't pick our own partners. "Once you have your partner sit with whoever it is start talking about what your organism will be. Please all stand so we can have tables for you to sit at." We reluctantly stand from our "comfortable" chairs and move away from the tables.
"Julia and Juliet," she calls. "Rob and Chris ..." Ah, I see how she partnered us up. Of course, I should've seen this coming. Julia and Juliet are twins; their last name starts with "A". Rob and Chris' last names begin with "B." Mrs. Stuart is going alphabetically down the list. Great ... Just great.
I get comfortable and lean against the wall. I watch who gets paired with whom. Unsurprisingly, Rachel gets paired with a "hottie" as she would say. I mentally sigh.
It is terrible having a last name beginning with "Z" that no one can pronounce on the first try. That's only one of the cons of it. Throughout my life, I've been last all the time. Whenever we'd line up in class to go somewhere, I was always the "caboose." Whenever we do roll call, I know I'm the last one. How many people does anyone know with the first two letters of their last name being "Z" and "Y"?
I close my eyes and wait for Mrs. Stuart to call my name.
"Elizabeth and ..." I hear her say and open my eyes. I wonder who my partner will be today that will get an "F" on this project with me. I realize the only other person standing is the new kid. I look over at our teacher to see a confused look on her face. She flips through the roll as if to double-check herself on something. She nods as if thinking Yep, that's what it says.
"Elizabeth and Ryan," she finishes. The new kid and I head towards the back table and place our stuff on it. "Are you two related?"
"What?" I ask. I almost laugh at the idea; it is so absurd. "No."
I'm pretty sure I should know who I'm related to and I don't remember seeing him at any family reunions or my parents mentioning a "Ryan."
"Once you and your partner decide on an organism, come tell me so I can write it down," she continues, "No two groups in this class will have the same organism." Mrs. Stuart walks over to her computer to do who knows what. I look over at Ryan and notice him smiling.
"What are you smiling about?" I ask.
"Don't you think it's strange that she would ask if we were related?" he replies.
"Not as strange as funny." I smirk. He slightly frowns. I look away and allow my bangs to fall, grateful for a bit of a wall. "So what 'living organism' do you want to do for this project? I don't really care what we do. Oh, and by the way, I'm terrible at these kinds of things."
"What about a human? It's a living organism, plus, it's probably the best one we know, too." He leans back in his chair. "Well, what do you think?"
We sit in silence as the rest of the room talks and I ponder his suggestion. He is right. It all makes sense. It is the best living organism we know so, it's probably the one we'd have the best chance at doing well. Plus, we wouldn't have to do much research.
"I like it," I say.
"Good." He smiles. "Now we just have to decide how to do it." He picks up the paper and looks at it. "Number one, two or three?"
"I don't care you pick."
"Must I make all the decisions?" He shakes his head at me. I laugh inside not daring to show him part me. "Number two, then."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," I say, "Who's writing? I'm terrible."
"I thought you didn't care."
"I do when it comes to writing. Besides, I can't have you do all the work otherwise I'm useless. Why can't we do number one?"
"Because--" He cuts himself short. He folds his arms across his chest and inhales deeply. Ok then . . . "I just think you'll be better at it than you think, is all."
"Fine, we'll do number two," I mumble. He quickly gets up to tell the teacher. Hopefully no one thought of doing a human before us.
Ryan comes back with another piece of paper. Great, I think, just what I need, more information about some project I'm going to fail. We talk about our project until the bell rings.
* * *
I walk into my house after school, Ryan behind me. After putting my key into my backpack I look up to find a surprise. A surprise consisting of a twenty-five year old man with a beard, scraggly hair and dark brown eyes. I smile from ear to ear and shout, "MICHAEL!!!" Instantly I drop my things, run and give him a hug.
"Hey 'Lil Liz," he says, "How've you been doing?"
"Pretty good." I stop our embrace, realizing Ryan witnessed the whole thing. Whoops. I lightly laugh at an attempt to lighten the mood. "Ryan, this is my brother Mike. Mike, this is Ryan."
"Hi," says Ryan with a smile, "nice to meet you." He puts out his hand for my brother to shake. Mike only acknowledges Ryan with a nod. His face is now stern. Oh no.
"Can I talk with you for a moment, Liz?" asks Mike.
"Sure," I answer. "Ryan, why don't you go to my room and wait?" I give him directions; he shrugs and then leaves.
"So ...?" I ask.
"Who is he?" Mike demands, "Why have I never heard of him? What's his last name? Who's his family? Why is he here?"
I should've expected this. My brother's a bit ... um ... overprotective. He's the only one that knows my secret since he was the first to figure it out.
"He's just a guy I met today in science class," I say. "We were assigned to do a project together. There's nothing going on between us. I don't know anything about him, really."
"So you're just going to let some random guy into our house? Why couldn't you go somewhere else like the library or something?"
I shake my head. "He just moved into town; he doesn't know where anything is. We decided at school it was either my house or his."
Mike's face grows blank, having lost the battle. I smirk, knowing he'd rather have a random guy come to our house than I go to someone else's. He believes in not going to someone else's house until the person has known the other person for at least three months and, in my case, possibly a year.
"Is it alright if I work on my project now?" I ask.
He shakes his head as if to shake away thoughts. "Sure, sure." I pick up my things and walk into my room, where Ryan and I begin our project.