• chapter two •

The bus stop was a little away from where I lived, so I walked.

Four Asian kids stood on the pavement along with two other American girls, all waiting for the bus. Initially, I was quiet, but after much deliberation, I walked over to them. "Um, hi. Are you guys...the art scholarship winners from India?" All of them were dark-haired (That's the weird thing about South Asians. You hardly see natural blonds or redheads) and tanned.

"Yeah," one of them said. Chirag, I got to know later. "Are you, too? You don't look like an Indian."

"I'm not, but I've lived there all my life, so...yeah. I'm Hazel."

They smiled and introduced themselves. Tanya was sixteen and had a delicately pointed chin and nose just like me. She was nice, but she didn't talk much because she was the shy type. Sid wore thick glasses. It looked as if all he did every day was play video games, or study, or do something else to spoil his eyesight. He was fifteen maybe, and so was Maya, our last neighbor.

Through the bus ride, they chattered about how excited they all were to be here and what our art classes were going to be like and etc etc, while I listened, not having anything to contribute.

Chirag took special attention in me. "You're pretty," he told me bluntly, and I was so startled that I reacted by laughing. This felt nice. The theme of his house was red and white, he said, and he told me that he'd never dated before because his parents hadn't allowed it, but he was hoping to change that this year, so would I be interested in going over to paint with him sometime?

"Sure!" I agreed, blushing, glad that he hadn't invited me on a cliché coffee date. That would've been awkward.

Valley Traditional High School was a very nice place. Even looking at it from the outside, at the neat, trimmed lawns and the light-brown building, I could tell it was going to be amazing from the inside.

There were a few cars parked in front of the building. High-schoolers were everywhere, chatting, laughing, kissing. A bunch of girls stood near the doorway, wearing the kind of clothes that the popular girls usually wear—designer jeans, stilettos or some other high-heeled shoes of whose names I didn't even know, and slightly revealing tops complemented by make-up. One of them chewed a gum. Another one stared at me. "Oh look, a redhead!" she mumbled to her giggling friends as we passed them.

I wished I was wearing a hoodie over my black t-shirt so I could cover my head. I opened the door and rushed in.

A tall girl, who had apparently been waiting for us, came forward and asked if we were 'those newbies', and when we nodded, she told us to wait for a sec. She fetched some papers from an office-like room, handed us our books, and then gave us a short tour of the school till a cute guy called out, "Anna!" and she excused herself.

We stood like complete idiots for a minute.

"Where do we have to go?" Sid asked, voicing our thoughts, and I said, "Um. Homeroom, maybe?" and then Maya asked, "Where is homeroom?" and I said, "Anna is back."

She came running to us, her blond hair flying behind her. Her face was flushed. "Sorry. That was my boyfriend." We climbed the stairs with her and she pointed out the various labs; the library; the gym; the music, art and dance rooms, and after I tripped over the untied laces of my sneakers and embarrassed myself, she took us to our homerooms.

In my homeroom there was this French teacher (And by French teacher I mean that she was French, never mind the subject she taught) who looked like a blonde Barbie doll and whose accent sounded something like: "Come een, sweet-haat, aa you ze new student?"

"Um, yes." I walked in, looking down at my shoes because I didn't want to look anywhere else.

"What eez your name?"

"Um, it's Hazel." A long time ago I had developed this annoying habit of saying 'um' before every sentence whenever I talked to a stranger. Justification: A habit is a habit.

She made me sit on the last seat. I almost tripped over my sneakers again while I walked. There was this freckled guy who sat on my right, staring at me as I put my bag down and rested my head in my hands to relax. I smiled at him, hoping to look friendly, but he just smirked and looked away.

∞

The other classes were not as painful somehow. When finally the lunch bell rang, I collected my brown paper bag containing my lunch from my locker, and walked towards the lunchroom—knowing where to go because everyone was going there. I opened the double doors and stood quietly in a corner, scanning the room for my Indian friends, but they were nowhere to be seen. And there was no empty seat. At last I spotted a table on which just one guy sat, chewing a hot-dog. Reluctantly I walked towards him.

"Um," I said, which was my typical way of getting someone's attention. He pushed away a lock of his hair which managed to look both brown and blond, and looked up curiously. "Can I sit here? I won't, like, disturb you or anything."

He laughed, revealing shiny braces on his teeth. "Sure. I don't mind some company. Oh wait, are you one of those scholarship winners?"

"Yeah," I answered as I sat down, staring at my lunch bag. "Were you told about us?"

"Nah, just heard a rumor that five new people are coming here. I'm Liam, by the way, thanks for asking."

I laughed. "I'm Hazel."

After that his phone pinged and he took it out. I looked up to take a tiny but good peek at him. His half-sleeved t-shirt bared a black dragon tattoo on his right bicep. He had a nice face. His grey eyes shone from the light from his phone.

He pocketed his phone just as a dark-haired guy dropped into a chair next to Liam and said to no one in particular, "I'm gonna sue this school one day. They never have anything edible." Then he turned to him. "Who's sitting with us?"

"Hazel," Liam replied.

"And who's Hazel?"

"The girl who's sitting with us."

"But who is she?"

"Hazel."

Having realized that he wasn't going to get a straight answer from Liam, the dark-haired guy then turned to me. "I don't wanna sound rude, but who are you?"

I said, "Hazel."

Liam laughed. "Told you so."

"Well," the dark-haired guy said. "You should've been named Reddie. It would've matched your hair. Or your hair should've been hazel."

"Then your name should've been Blackie," I said, a little hesitantly.

"Speaking of black hair, I like to call myself a blackhead." Then both of them laughed so hard that it made me smile too. "But 'Zack' also suits me just fine," he said and turned back to Liam. "Luke and Jessica broke up."

"Not surprising. Who would want to stay with that asshole, anyway? Tell me something about Abigail."

Zack kept on looking at Liam (probably thinking something) long enough to make me wonder if he was gay, and then, with a mischievous smile spread across his face, Zack looked at me and said, "Abigail is Liam's crush."

"OH NO, YOU DIDN'T!" Liam grabbed his hair and punched his stomach. Within seconds he had Zack in a headlock. For a moment I thought Liam was going to murder him, but then I realized that both of them were laughing.

"Dude! Calm down," Zack gasped. "She won't tell anyone. Will you, Reddie?"

"No, I won't. I don't even know who Abigail is."

Zack beamed, still panting. "See?" Liam didn't reply.

What was remarkable was that I felt at ease. It was so easy to talk to these guys.

"HEY, MEATBALL! DID YOU PAY THAT GIRL TO BE YOUR FRIEND, JUST LIKE YOU'VE PAID THAT ZACKIE BOY?" someone shouted from across the room. People laughed. All three of us turned to the voice to see who it was. It was a blond boy whose arms were covered in tattoos. Those girls whose comment had made me wish that I had a hoodie were also at the table with some other guys.

Liam showed him his middle finger, then resumed eating like nothing had happened.

I met Zack's green eyes. "Is he rude to everyone?" I said.

"That guy," said Zack, "bullies Liam and still calls him Meatball, even though he's slimmed down a lot. Liam used to be, like—" Zack spread out his arms at his sides, "this fat."

"No one is that fat," I reasoned.

"Liam was," Zack replied shamelessly.

This made Liam angry. "Don't make me kick your ass."

"Oh, and imagine how it was when he first started jogging. His stomach used to jiggle like jelly."

I laughed hard at that. Liam slapped the back of Zack's head.

Just then a half-empty milk carton came flying and landed on our table, splashing its contents all over Liam's food and clothes and also knocking off my lunch-bag, but Zack's food miraculously survived. All three of us jumped up. I quickly picked up a few tissues and spread them on the table so they would soak up the milk. Liam's hot-dog appeared inedible now.

"Shit," said Zack. "My clothes." I looked at him. His t-shirt was splashed with milk like mine.

Liam picked up a few fries from Zack's tray and popped them in his mouth as we sat down again after I had spread tissues all over the table. Zack shoved him."Who told you that you have the right to eat my food, huh?"

"Shut up. I'm hungry," Liam replied, shoving him back.

Suddenly I decided that if I offered Liam one of my sandwiches, I could make a friend. It was pretty childish, really, but I did it anyway. "Have my sandwiches if you want. I have peanut butter and jelly."

He smiled. "Seriously? I might eat up all of them. I have a huge appetite."

"I don't mind. Go on."

So he went on and ate three of my sandwiches, while I nibbled at my first one slowly to show that I wasn't really hungry even though I was.

This was how Sharon and I had become friends when we were five years old. It was my first day in the new school. I was the only English-speaking American among the Hindi-speaking Indians, and I still remember the awkwardness I'd felt when I hadn't known what to say when the teacher had pinched my cheek and asked sweetly, "Aapka naam kya hai?" which I later came to know meant 'What's your name?'

I'd forgotten my lunch box at home and started crying. So Sharon came to me and looked at me with wide eyes, not knowing what to say and not knowing how to say what to say because we didn't have a common language. Then suddenly, she opened her lunchbox and offered me a single idli, and since then we'd been the closest of friends.

"I'm still hungry," Liam remarked and snatched a few fries from Zack and ate them.

The bell rang.

∞

"I can drop you home if you want," Liam offered.

"Um."

He laughed. "Seriously, I won't kidnap you or anything. You know that."

"Um, yeah." I bit my lip nervously. "Okay," I said finally and opened the door to get in the silver car. The interior smelled of air freshener, and the seats were of black leather. Liam got in behind the wheel and looked at me.

Now, I'm not the type of girl who gets into the car of a person whom she's known for less than five hours, but  I didn't have any other choice because I'd missed my bus and I couldn't walk home alone because I didn't know the way. And as Liam had graciously pointed out, he wasn't going to kidnap me, so I figured it was more or less safe to travel with him.

"Where do you live?"

"Hillview Drive."

"Okay. That's pretty near my house." He started the car. Then he grinned. "Did I tell you Luke got detention?"

"Who's Luke?"

"That tattoo guy who threw the milk carton at me in the lunchroom is Luke, the guy with whom Jessica broke up is Luke, the guy who bullies me and thinks he's damn hot is Luke, and that Luke is an asshole," Liam said.

"Oh," I said.

We sat in awkward silence for some time. Or rather, I sat in awkward silence, wondering what to say to strike up a conversation. Usually, all I had to do was say 'So, what's new?' and my friends would start babbling, but I couldn't ask Liam what was new in his life because I barely knew him. So, very stupidly, I said, "Say something."

He laughed a deep, genuine laugh. It was a pleasant sound. "You're a very interesting person."

"What's interesting about me?"

"You're ... I don't know. So awkward."

"And that's interesting?"

"A little," he answered with a smile. "So... you want me to say something. I'm not good at conversations either, you know. Um...what do you like to do when you're alone?"

"Huh. That's easy," I said. "Painting, reading, eating. You?"

"Hm. Reading, playing video games, reading, annoying my dad, reading, thinking about Abigail, and did I mention reading? I love reading."

And suddenly I wanted to compete with him. "What do you read, mostly?"

"John Green."

"Me, too," I said.

"Jeffrey Archer."

"Me, too," I said.

"Stephen King."

"Me, too," I said.

"O'Henry."

"Me, too," I said.

"I like reading autobiographies and classics too, like Little Women, Gone with the Wind, To Kill a Mockingbird."

"Me, too," I said. He looked at me like I was crazy. "What? I've read all of that."

"Okay." He nodded and that awkward silence continued again.

When we reached my house, I turned to him and said, "Uh, thanks a lot. So...um... see you tomorrow?" and he started laughing. He rested his head against the window and his whole body shook as he laughed. Then I asked, "You aren't laughing at my awkwardness, are you?" which only made him laugh harder. But he wasn't making fun of me. His eyes were warm.

He stopped, gradually. "Sorry. Yeah. See you tomorrow." He was still smiling.

I smiled too, and got out of the car. My whole body was blushing, I was sure of it. When I reached my porch, I heard his car start up again, and soon it was out of sight.

Not a bad start. Liam seemed like a nice guy, and I had already noted in him one of the four qualities that I liked in a boy: he had a beautiful smile. Yes, despite those braces.

∞