31/08/12: This chapter has been edited.

Thanks to KillOrBeeKilled for the banner on the side! :D

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“Georgie, is it true?”

Resisting the urge to sigh, I turn around from my locker to be faced with the eager expression of Chloe, a sweet enough girl I sit next to in biology class. Instead of snapping at her and returning my attention to the pile of textbooks awaiting retrieval like I want to, I force on a small smile and pretend that this isn’t the fifth time I’ve been asked the same question this morning.

“What do you mean?” I ask innocently, even though I know exactly what she’s talking about.

Because, for some reason, the news that Connor’s back in town seems to be Franklin High’s juiciest gossip since the rumor that the guidance counselor was a part-time stripper (she wasn’t, but it turned out her sister could’ve used some guidance in her career choices). It’s spread like wildfire through our grade. Still, that’s not what bothers me – what’s getting tiring is the fact that almost everyone who remembers him assumes we’re still the best of buddies.

That was third grade, people! Things are way different now.

“I heard that Connor’s back in town,” she says, her expression doing nothing to mask her enthusiasm. “The one who left in third grade. I remember you guys were like, inseparable so I thought you might…”

“Yeah, it’s true.”

“It is?” Chloe’s face brightens. “I thought it might have been just a rumor but… wow, that’s so weird. Have you guys talked?”

What is it with everyone expecting us to suddenly revert back to our friendship of eight years ago? I suppose things would be a bit simpler if Connor hadn’t suffered such a drastic personality change, but still. We’re juniors now. Let’s just say innocent fun playing in the sand pit has been replaced by things a little more adult.

“Um…” How do I answer this? Am I supposed to admit what’s really going on here? In other words, do I really want to confess to my classmates that I’m now hated by the person I once adored? Maybe not. “Yeah,” I say eventually, holding back the grimace. “It was okay. I mean, we haven’t seen each other for so long, so it was kind of weird but… you know.”

Well, I hope she knows, because I sure as hell don’t.

“Is he starting today?”

“Um, yeah.”

Silently, I pray for a route of escape from this conversation. Believe it or not, but after the revelation upstairs during dinner on Saturday – and last night’s dream, for that matter – Connor isn’t exactly my favorite topic to converse about. However, it seems the God of Escape (or whoever my desperate plea was aimed at) doesn’t seem to be in the best of moods this morning, and is determined to dampen mine even more.

And, before I can spot her and scuttle off to safety, The Devil herself is by my side.

Known more commonly in our school as Charlotte Hayes.

I could waste three hours describing who Charlotte actually is – or even make a video montage, Mean Girls style – but I don’t want to depress myself by dwelling on how dainty and pretty she is (albeit incredibly bitchy). That and it’s before eight on a Monday morning; I haven’t got the energy.

Let’s just say this cheerleader is a living, breathing version of The Devil Wears Prada.

Or Gucci.

The Devil Wears Something Designer. Let’s go with that one.

“Sorry, but I couldn’t help overhearing,” Charlotte says, her sickly sweet voice coming worryingly close to inducing vomit. Flashing me a completely transparent smile that reads something along the lines of I don’t like you, but I want to hear this, she flicks her voluminous auburn hair over her shoulder.

To say the least, Charlotte and I aren’t exactly on the best of terms. It sounds so awfully cliché – the quiet nerdy one being sworn enemies with the popular cheerleader who has an unnatural hatred of her – but it’s true. Admittedly, her hostility isn’t completely unjustified, on account of the sixth grade incident when I accidentally threw the contents of my lunch tray over her in the middle of the cafeteria, but that’s still no excuse for treating me like my mere presence repulses her.

I shoot her a fake smile back, trying to mask the look in my eyes that says I hate you.

“Did you just say that Connor had moved back here?” Her perfectly plucked eyebrows furrow. “As in Connor Murphy?”

I’m about to launch into a large scale denial, in which I swear I’ve never said anything of the sort, but before I get the chance, Chloe nods her head excitedly. “Yeah! He’s moved back in to the house next door to Georgie.”

Uh… did I mention that before? Seriously, where are people getting this gossip from? Maybe there’s an invisible section in the school newspaper that I can’t read.

Actually, no, scratch that. The vast majority of the kids at this school don’t even know we have a school newspaper.

“Oh…” Charlotte’s nose wrinkles marginally at the mention of my name, but is soon replaced by another saccharine smile which shows off her artificially white teeth. “Really? That’s so great.”

What is it with people getting so excited about Connor’s return? They haven’t seen him for eight years, for God’s sake. Are they hoping he’s transformed into some kind of Abercrombie and Fitch model lookalike during that time? I mean, sure, Mother Nature’s been kind to him over the past few years, but the reaction of my classmates is kind of weird.

And they’re going to be in for an even bigger shock when they realize what a bad-tempered jerk he now is.

“You guys used to be friends, didn’t you?”

I drift out of my daydream to see Charlotte peering at me curiously, the hint of a smirk playing at the corners of her overly glossy lips. “Uh…”

“Yeah, they did!” Chloe interjects.

Have I lost the ability to speak for myself? The blonde-haired girl beside me seems to think so.

“That’s… cute,” Charlotte says eventually, but the undertone of distaste in her voice is audible. “Well, maybe you guys will hit it off again. Unless, you know, he’s a little more particular with his choice this time. And if that’s the case, well, who can blame him?”

She shoots me a dirty look which I return stubbornly.

“Anyway, I’d better be off. Maybe I’ll even see Connor on the way. Don’t worry, I’ll introduce myself. I’m sure he’ll remember me.” A triumphant smirk is sent in my direction before she waves and turns to head back down the hallway, her stupidly shiny hair bouncing on her shoulders. Chloe smiles sympathetically at me, mumbling a hasty goodbye before she heads off after Charlotte, calling for her to wait up.

I turn back to my locker, pulling out the heavy textbooks needed for my next couple of classes whilst irritation simmers inside me. Charlotte is so infuriatingly bitchy, yet I never seem to be able to bring myself to actually retaliate. Sure, it may give me momentary satisfaction, but all it’d achieve in the long-term would be making myself the prime target of the Franklin High cheerleading squad.

Like they need any other reason – aside from Charlotte’s command – to dislike me.

On the bright side, I’m over halfway through the hellish experience of high school – soon, I’ll be able to pack up and head to college out of state, where I’ll never have to deal with any of Charlotte’s crap again.

I swear, every day my life gets a little more cliché.

As I slide the pile of books into my bag and steady myself under the unexpected weight, I find myself wondering where the hell Ava has got to. This dismal-looking Monday morning is worsening by the minute, and there’s only so much I can take without emotional best friend support. Usually she’s here by now. Glancing at the large clock fixed onto the blue painted wall, I realize that I’m going to have to suck it up and head to homeroom alone.

And just pray that she makes an appearance soon.

Heading through the bustling hallway is more of a challenge than I expect. As I round the corner and start making my way down the main hallway, the manageable stream of students merges into a deep ocean. I have to concentrate immensely to navigate my way through the oncoming flow of teenagers without smashing into anyone. It really is true when they say there’s strength in numbers – at least when there’s two of you, you can stick together and people are more likely to move out of your way.

Thanks, Ava, for abandoning me in my time of need. Kind of.

I’ve almost made it to homeroom – and am internally congratulating myself for making it there without rugby tackling anyone – when something just across the other side of the hallway catches my attention.

Connor is leaning casually against a row of lockers. His signature sullen look is nowhere to be seen; instead, his boyish features are adorned with a small (and dare I admit it, kind of cute) smile. I have to do a double take to make sure my eyes aren’t deceiving me.

I think I would’ve been less surprised if Connor had gained one hundred pounds in the last twenty four hours.

In fact, I’m so shocked, I actually stop in my tracks to gape at the scene before me. Connor’s dressed down in dark washed jeans, a printed tee and jacket, his backpack slung low over his shoulder. The few girls surrounding him look just as much of an accessory as his clothing as he laughs along with them. Most of them I recognize as fleeting members of Charlotte’s crowd; they’re nowhere near as evil as The Devil herself, but still not people I’m desperate to get to know.

Intense discussions about the best nail salons aren’t really my calling.

Despite knowing that I should probably move my butt and get to homeroom, I find myself rooted to the spot. If I stay much longer, at least one of Connor’s group will probably look over and question why I’m watching them like a stalker, but I’m too shocked to walk away. I thought my best friend had turned into an antisocial jerk… so why is he chatting and laughing with these girls so freely?

Guess all his hatred’s been reserved for me. Nice to know.

“So what was it like in New York?” I hear Sophie, a tall brunette huddled by Connor, ask. “It must be pretty awesome, huh?”

“Hmm, it was okay,” he responds coolly. “I prefer it here though.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because you’re here.” His answer is stupidly cheesy; I want to cringe majorly. However, Sophie throws her head back and laughs, grinning as he shoots her a flirty wink.

Seriously?

Unfortunately, Connor chooses this exact moment to look up, causing our gazes to lock onto each other’s. As soon as he recognizes me, the previously teasing look in his eye vanishes, replaced almost instantly by coldness as his eyes narrow into a frown. Of course, the girls, who seem to be watching his every move, look backwards to see what’s interesting enough to have caught his attention.

“Georgie!” Sophie says. “Hey, guess who’s back?” she adds, winking suggestively and gesturing backwards at the now moody looking guy.

“Um… yeah, I saw…”

“Didn’t you guys used to be like, best friends?” Jade, an Asian girl whom I recognize from a couple of classes, pipes up with a thoughtful look.

How many times do we need to go over this?!

“Uh, yeah…”

Jade goes to say something again, but Connor cuts her off. “That’s enough talk of the past,” he says, shooting me a dirty look. “We’ve all grown up since then. At least this time I’ve learned from my mistakes, and I sure as hell won’t make them again.” He turns back to the girls. “Any of you want to show me where room twenty is?”

Before I even have the chance to respond – not that I was planning on it, anyway – Connor’s already halfway down the hall, following the girls as they direct his way to homeroom.

Leaving me still none the wiser as to why hates me so much.

Is it just me or does this day seem to be getting worse and worse?

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January module results were out today! I got 3 A*s (for the 3 sciences) so I was very happy :D I'm such a nerd, lol.

Thoughts on the story? Please comment. Maybe if I get a higher number of comments I'll upload a day earlier... is that enough persuasion for you? ;)