Dorn High was like one big locker I'd been crammed in by a bully I like to refer to as Life. It was a dank and crowded place, smelling like a mix of Chelsea's socks after a long soccer practice and the bleach I'd covered every surface of my house's bathrooms with before I used them. The worst thing about it, though, was that people had eyes and they were all using those eyes to stare at me.

I knew this would happen. Usually I liked being proven correct, but not in this case. People stared and nobody came up to talk to me. I wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad thing. I walked up the wide concrete walkway from where my mom dropped me off, heading to the main doors. Just like Jack had said, there were no stairs. The whole building was one level, low to the ground like it was an abscess on the earth, clinging to it and infecting it with teenage social terror. The campus sprawled out on either side of me. According to signs on the walls, if I walked through the building's main corridor, it would lead me out past a student parking lot and onto a track and football field.

I kept my eyes focused ahead and slightly down as I pushed through the glass doors. The chatter of students was like white noise. I didn't want to pick out any conversations, didn't want to know what they were saying on the offhand chance that they were saying something about me. I didn't have new clothes like most of the other kids. Mom and Dad hadn't even brought up the idea of shopping. I'm pretty sure on a scale of one to Mazzeria, my clothing needs were someplace around negative twenty. The restaurant was only a few days from its grand opening. Becca offering to drop me off rather than having me walk the five blocks to campus was a minor miracle.

I stopped outside the school office, paper in hand. It showed my class schedule, but I had no idea where any of those classes were. Not wanting to face reality, I'd skipped orientation night for new students and my parents, conveniently, had skipped remembering that orientation night was a thing that existed. Now the anxiety leading up to that night three days ago had caught up to me and compounded my regular first day in a new place anxiety. I swayed and caught myself against the wall.

Don't puke, don't puke, don't puke.

"Whoa, there, Mazie! You all right? You look like you're going to hurl."

I looked up just enough to see Kayla standing in front of me, adorned in the spoils of yesterday's shopping trip: tight, stylishly ripped jeans and a breezy rose-colored blouse.

"Please don't say the word hurl."

She crossed her arms like she might scold me but ended up laughing instead. "I said to myself this morning, 'Kayla, Mazie is going to be an absolute mess, like hold her hair back while she anoints the toilet thrown kind of mess. And here you are, the same shade of green as the moss growing on my roof."

I stumbled over to her and whispered, "I don't like it here."

"You haven't been here long enough to know if you like it or not."

"I knew before I arrived."

"Which is your problem. You're filled to the brim with preconceived notions."

"So, what are you saying? Dorn High really isn't that bad?"

"Oh no." She shook her head. "It's bad. But you make it worse because of your negativity. You come into a situation like everything's predetermined and there's nothing you can do about it."

"You sound like Jack. And my parents."

"We're only trying to help. Unlike them, though, I'm actually capable of helping. Do you even know where you are or how to get to homeroom?"

"No clue."

"Hand me your schedule."

She looked it over. "Mr. Andrews. Down that hallway," she said, pointing to my right. "Aww, and we have AP English lit together. And guess who doesn't have to eat lunch all by her lonesome.

"Is it you?"

She narrowed her eyes. "I might not be one of the Populars, but I do have other friends. And we eat together. You, on the other hand, currently know no one else at this school besides me and I'm inviting you to join me and my very nice friends at lunch. You won't get another offer like this, Mazie. I'd advise you to take it."

I wasn't sure whether the thought of eating lunch by myself or having to talk to new people was more terrifying, but the last thing I wanted to do was piss off Kayla. She was right that she was my one lifeline at Dorn High. Plus, she was my partner, helping me solve a mystery she had no proof was more than just a figment of my imagination.

"Thank you for the offer and I eagerly accept it. But, what did you say about Populars? Is that a thing you just made up?"

"I wish it was. No, the Populars go back to at least the mid-nineties. They're just a glorified clique, really. But they have a weird induction ceremony that I don't know much about because, well, I'm not exactly Populars material."

"Induction. Like a secret society or a frat or something?"

"Or something. Anyways, every year a junior boy and girl are made leaders. They reign supreme for the year, then pass the torch to whoever they select for the next year. Then they spend senior year being waited on hand and foot by the Freshman and Sophomore Populars, all hoping to get noticed so they'll be selected as leaders their Junior year. And the Senior leaders don't have to lift a damn finger."

"Doesn't sound so bad."

"No, not if you're the retired leaders. But if you're the other Populars? I just don't get the appeal. I mean, there's at least twenty of them in each class and only two are going to become leaders their Junior year. I mean, ruling the school as king and queen may sound appealing, but the odds are not in anyone's favor."

"People like competition, I guess."

"Fools like dreaming of glory is what I think." She nudged me forward. Let's get you to Mr. Andrew's classroom.

The walk to my first destination of the day took all of twelve seconds. People continued their squinty-eyed stares. A few nodded in Kayla's direction, acknowledging her place in Dorn High's social pecking order: not too high as to be revered or kowtowed to, not too low as to be shunned.

She handed me back my schedule. You get your locker assignment?"

I shook my head.

"Ask Andrews about that. We've got fourth period together and then lunch. So, I'll see you in a couple hours."

I stared at her like a kitten about to be adopted to its forever home and she was my mom who I was never going to see again.

"You'll do fine. You've survived first days of school before and you'll survive this one. Just keep your head up and try not to barf on anyone."

I could probably manage one or the other but both at the same time seemed a tad unrealistic.

"See you in English class," I managed to say in what I'm guessing from her expression was at the decibel level of a banshee on tranquilizers. I cleared my throat. "I'll be all right."

"That's the spirit." She patted my shoulder and sped away to her own homeroom. I entered Mr. Andrews' classroom, showed him my schedule and took a seat and went into a semi-coma for the next fifteen minutes.

There were announcements, and I received my locker assignment. A boy with spikey hair and glasses sat to my right and a girl with perfectly curled, perfectly blond hair atop a perfectly tanned head sat in front of me. The boy glanced over at me, and we both did the "hey, I'm acknowledging your presence, but can that just be enough now?" nod. He was one of those types of people, and by "those types" I mean me: too nervous about not knowing what to say to try to talk to someone else who was too nervous about not knowing what to say. That was as close to a social interaction I came to with one of my peers the entire morning.

I went from homeroom to Chemistry to Spanish to US History in a fugue state. The teachers were okay. Not bad. Passable. Mrs. Kamamoto, attempting to "appeal to the youth" had decorated the walls of her room with quotes from Hamilton, several bad words covered over with cartoony "bleep" stickers. My chest remained constricted through her awkward rendition of "Rise Up," which she sang in full and by memory to a class filled with rolling eyeballs. I had to stop myself from bopping my head to the beat.

The sight of Kayla Ford-Lee in English class was enough to make me want to cry. I hadn't realized how weak I'd become; Mazie, the loner, now dependent on the friendship of a girl she'd met only two weeks ago. But Kayla had said herself that she was my lifeline and she'd been right. High school was a lonely place for the socially challenged.

I took a seat next to her. "Head is up. Haven't puked once."

"Glad to hear it."

Lunch followed.

The dreaded high school cafeteria. This was the part of the day I'd been dreading the most: all the commotion, less restrained behavior. I'd told myself a million times that if something truly awful was going to happen my first day, it would be during lunch period.

I followed Kayla, little kitty cat reunited with her mommy, and we took our trays to a table at the far end of the cafeteria near the door that led out to a small courtyard. Two kids already sat there, a girl with a mess of curls dyed purple at the tips, and the boy from Mr. Andrews' homeroom. They looked up at us, the girl smiling widely, the boy giving me the same micro nod he'd offered me when I'd sat next to him.

"Guys, this is Dorn's newest agoraphobe, Mazie. Mazie, that's Vanessa." She pointed to the curly-haired girl who gave me a little wave. "Vanessa was last year's new girl. I collect them. And that there is Darren. He and I go way back. All the way to first grade."

We sat down, Kayla next to Vanessa and me next to Darren. "You're in my physics class, right?"

"Um, homeroom, actually."

"Oh yeah... homeroom."

"You'll have to excuse Darren. he's about as socially adept as you are, Mazie. But he smells worse. Anyways, this is us. Welcome."

"Welcome!" Vanessa's cheerful countenance reminded me of Jack when he wasn't lamenting his own demise.

Darren grunted his welcome while smelling his pits. "I don't actually smell bad, do I? You're just saying that. Kayla, why do you always have to mess with me."

"You wouldn't know how to live your life if I didn't. Me messing with you defines who you are." She bit into an apple. "So, how's day one treating all of you?"

Now everyone grunted. Even Vanessa's face fell. "It's okay. But I've got Dakota in three of my classes. If you don't see me at lunch, it's because I asphyxiated when I was forced to give my air to her to breathe."

"Who's Dakota?" I knew this was an innocent question with a not so innocent answer, but I had to ask it anyways.

"Ugh." Kayla put her apple down and began stirring her yogurt mindlessly. "She's this year's Junior Popular Queen. And she's a mega bitch, like a total walking stereotype of every mean girl in every teen movie you've ever seen."

"She's hot though," Darren said without looking up from his spaghetti.

Kayla snorted. "Yep and with a rich daddy. No way was anyone else going to take her Queenly title from her."

Vanessa raised her fork in a swooping motion like it was a wand and she was casting a spell. "Not after she slept with Tommy at least."

"Tommy?" My mind was reeling. It was hard enough remembering the names of the two new people I was sitting at the table with, much less all these other people I'd yet to meet.

"Tommy Gorske. Last year's Junior Popular King and this year's Senior Leisure King. He and his girl counterpart, Emma, picked the new Junior rulers. It's just a rumor, what Vanessa said, by the way. We don't know one hundred percent that Dakota slept with Tommy, but... she didn't confirm or deny it and he just smiles whenever anyone asks him so..."

"Why does the school even let this happen?" I asked.

"The Populars are mainly second generation now. Some of their parents were the first Populars and now they're important people in town. Unless they do something really bad, the school can't do much to them."

"That figures."

A commotion in the middle of the room pulled our attention away from our discussion. A group of girls laughed loudly as they circled a tall boy like flies to a honey strip.

Kayla let out a low sigh. "There's one more Popular you should know about, Mazie. That boy right there." She pointed to the honey strip. The only part of him visible through the swarm was a mop of black hair. "He's this year's Junior Popular King. The one and only asshole himself, Blake Sumner. Avoid him at all costs."

One by one the girls took their seats around their illustrious leader. He sat with his back facing us. Just when I was about to turn away from the spectacle, one of Blake's friends called out a greeting to him and he swiveled around to high five him. Blake gave his friend a crooked smile.

Heart suddenly pounding, my hand gripped my food tray, accidentally sending a fork over the side of the table. It clanked to the floor.

That crooked grin was one I'd gotten to know very well over the past few weeks.

"Mazie, what's wrong?" Kayla grabbed onto my wrist and gave it a shake.

I knew I should look at her, but I couldn't not look at Blake. Or, as I'd come to know him...

"That boy, he's... he's." I paused so I could swallow down the bile trying to force itself out my throat. "Kayla, that one and only asshole is Jack."