The Second

The Evergreen Academy chorus sucks. They've like, seriously fucked up every song they've ever sung. It's sad actually. They think they are just awesome. And Mrs. Perry, the chorus instructor, practically cartwheels across the stage and uses that stupid wand thingy like a baton. Every year, we've had to sit through a "Welcome To The New School Year, Even Though This Year Will Suck More Than Last" assembly, and today was no exception.

"Eveeeeeergreeeen AcaaaaaadeMMMMY!!! Such a perfect SCHOOL! We'd LIIIIIIIIIIIKE to welcome back the stuDENTS wiiiiith thiiiiiiis LITTLE tuuuuuUUUUnnNNNNNNNNE!"

"Jesus Christ," Gavin moaned, burying his head in his hands. "How long does this thing last?"

"50 minutes," I answered, trying to avoid listening to Symone Osbourne sing the opening notes of the first song. She could hold her notes for like, two weeks.

Even Mickey, who had still been on her new school high until now, was biting her lip as the rest of the chorus stood up and began to dance around. "They're pretty bad," she admitted.

Monica Stampps who, I guess, could not take it anymore, whirled around and shot us all 'The Look.' "They won state," she informed us. "That means they're the best in New Hampshire."

"They competed against another group who were all blind and didn't know the words," I corrected.

"Shut up," she snapped and turned back around to enjoy the fine entertainment.

I narrowed my eyes at her, and then searched the auditorium for Robby, even though it was nearly impossible. It was dim, for all the light was focused on the kick-ass chorus, but I eventually found him in the first row.

He nearly took my breath away, that boy. He was slumped in his seat, totally oblivious to the disater onstage, thanks to his iPod. His light brown hair was messy, probably from P.E. Lord have mercy.

"You're drooling," Mickey whispered. "Have you talked to him at all besides from this morning?"

I shook my head, frustrated. "He's only in my French V and AP Physics class. And he sits nowhere near me."

"Mmm, bummer." She glanced at Gavin who was now attempting to make eye contact with Pricilla Bradford. "Have you asked him yet?"

I snuck a look at him and turned to her. "Not yet, but I will later today. He's coming over tonight because he needs help with his Spanish homework and I'll ask him then. I can call you after he leaves."

She flashed me a grateful grin, and then turned back to the stage.

"And I'm proud to be an American, for at least I know I'm...I'm....I'm uh..." Kimberly Swanson, who was dressed in a red, white, and blue jumper, threw down the microphone and stompped offstage. The entire school began the clap wildly, which only got Mrs. Perry wound up.


Gavin took a deep breath and sighed. "This is so stupid," he complained.

"I agree." I nodded my head sadly as I watched Principal Baylor try to calm down Mrs. Perry. The rest of the chorus stood in the wings, glancing around the disapproving audience nervously.

"Let's just ditch," Gavin whispered in my ear so Monica the Almighty wouldn't overhear.

"I agree," I repeated, and turned to inform Mickey. Her eyes widened, but once she learned that we were going with or without her, she grabbed her purse and followed us down the asile. Everyone shot us annoyed looks, but moved their legs aside so we could get through. This, obviously, caught the attention of Mr. Randolpf, the school librarian.

"Where are you going, Mr. Adams?" he questioned once we were in the main asile. "The assembly has not yet been completed."

Gavin shifted from one foot to the other. "Mr. Randolpf, I know you can relate when I say this."

"Say what?" he asked.

He leaned in close enough so that we could hear but no one else could. "I'm about to explode in my panties," he whispered. "Excuse me." He brushed past the elderly man and flashed us a thumbs-up sign behind his back.

"And you two?" he snarled, pointing at the both of us. "What's your excuse?"

"I'm having a woman problem," I blurted out. "I need moral support." I grabbed Mickey's elbow and pulled her close.

Mr. Randolpf sighed, but let us go. Murmurs of disbelief arose from the crowd, but we ignored them because we were home free, baby. You can't stop this train.

"Yes!" I exclaimed, high-fiving the both of them. "Are we awesome or what?"

"Gavin, I was about to loose it at that panty crack," Mickey giggled, but when she heard how strange it sounded aloud, she practically erupted.

"I try," he chuckled and then put an arm around each of our waists. "My babes," he sighed. "Shall we?"

"We shall," we both replied and cracked up like idiots all the way to Gavin's Jeep Wrangler.


"I've never skipped school before," Mickey sighed, giving the straw in her milkshake a twirl. "Never."

Gavin and I shot surprised looks. Last year, we probably ditched about once a week. "So what did you do for fun?" I asked. "I mean, I know there's not a lot of fun things to do in Arkansas, but come on. Tell me something."

"Okay, now I think you're doing that on purpose," Mickey said.

"Just tell me."

"We went to the movies, to the mall, to the um..." She paused for a moment and stared off into the space. "That's, that's about it."

"Whew, slow down, Nellie, you're getting me all hyper." Gavin took a huge bite of his cheeseburger.

Mickey licked her front tooth and smirked at Gavin. "Well, Remedy Cape, New Hampshire, isn't much better."

"Touche," I replied, and glanced around Johnny Rockets nervously.

"Looking for someone?" Gavin asked with his mouth full, a chewed up piece of lettuce shooting over to my side of the booth.

"Ew, freak." I threw a french fry at him, and it bounced off his head. "See? Your head's full of helium. Nothin' in that there noggin of yours."

"Ha. Ha. You are hee-lair-ee-us," he replied in a Southern accent. "I'm goin' talk like teese just ta teach you youngins not to bother me ever again."

"Jesus, no!" I cried. "Mic, the last time he got used to an accent, he didn't drop it for a week."

"Yer jus jealous," he stated, picking up a long, thin fry. He put it in his mouth and it dangled down like straw. "I really do need to use the outhouse now, so don't touch my burga." He hiked up his jeans and started across the diner slowly, swinging his hips for full effect.

"You like him?" I asked for the millionth time. "Are you sure?"

"He's perfect," she said. "Funny. Cute. Deep."

"As what?"

"I'm serious, Lyndsay," she insisted. "You don't see it."

"Thank God."

"How'd you meet him anyway?" she asked.

"School," I answered. "Everyone hated him, everyone hated me, we were meant for each other."

"No one could hate you!" Mickey exclaimed. "You guys are awesome."

"Tell that to the Upper Crust," I snorted.

"Well, it's not like you care what anyone thinks about you," she said. "I've never seen that in anyone."

I wanted to tell her. I wanted to tell her that I was deathly afraid what people thought about me. But as I glanced across the table at her, her confident smile shot me down.

"Yeah, whatever," I muttered and looked down at my watch. It was ten after three, and I should've been home twenty minutes ago. My mom would so know that I ditched on the first day. I threw down two tens and slung my bag over my shoulder. "Gavin can meet us at the car."

Mickey hopped in the backseat and I slipped his key in the ignition. "Let's see if we can find some good tunes," I murmured and finally settled on Stevie Wonder singing his heart out in 'Don't You Worry About A Thing,' and tapped my foot against the door.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Gavin said when he slid in the driver's seat. "I forgot that I made you the owner of my car." Obviously his accent was a thing of the past.

"Sorry!" I hissed and stared out of the window. 'Ain't No Mountain High Enough' began on the radio and I began to sing. There is no song more awesome than this one.

"'Listen baby!'" I wasn't on Marvin Gaye's level but I was a hell of a lot better than the Evergreen Academy chorus. "'Ain't no mountain high , ain't no valley low, ain't no river wide enough, baby! If ya need me, call me, no matter where you are, no matter how far!'"

Gavin began to sing along, and that was enough to get Mickey started, so there we were, going down the road, screaming at the top of our lungs. We laughed our asses during the verses, and Mickey and I sang into each other's hands like microphones.

By the time the song ended, we were all a little disappointed that our jam session was over so Gavin turned the car around, drove to Wal-Mart, and bought the C.D. We put the song on repeat and sang the whole way home.


"Mi nombre es Gavin."

Gavin stared at the bland pages of his Spanish textbook and his brow furrowed. "What does that mean?"

"You're not serious are you?" I stared at him and wondered how he made it past the first grade. "It means, 'My name is Gavin!'"

"Oh," he murmured. "Mi nombre es Gavin."

"Good. Soy diecisiete."

"I am seventeen," he said. "Right?"

"Yup." I glanced up at him and sighed. "I shouldn't even be doing this, Gavin," I complained. "I know more about Spanish than you do and I've been taking French for five years! How is that?"

"I dunno," he muttered, picking at my quilt. "You always had dem smarts in the famlay."

I threw my pillow and him and tried to stop laughing. This was study time, and I took my studying very seriously.

"Let's get back to work," I said.

Gavin yawned and stretched out across my bed. "Not now. Must rest. Must eat something." He opened one eye and grinned. "Can you get me some chips. Perhaps some Pring to the a-lays?"

"We have none," I lied.

"Liar. I saw Grace eating some when I walked in."

"Then she probably ate them all," I said. "If you don't sit down in the next two seconds, we're done with Español for the rest of the night."

"Not a problem," he said, throwing his book into his backpack. "I got to go anyway. See you tomorrow?"

"Wait," I said. "I need to talk to you about something."

"Is it time for the talk?" he asked, lowering himself down on my bed again. "Do I need to explain about the bird and the bees again?"

"Shut up, this is serious." I fiddled with my now-washed dirty blonde hair and took a deep breath. "Do you like Mickey?"

Gavin's hazel eyes widened. "What is Spanish for 'Are you joking'?"

"'Usted está bromeando,'" I replied.

"Where'd this come from?" he questioned.

"She told me last night in the woods," I explained. "She really likes you. She thinks you're amazing."

His cheeks were a bright shade of pink. "She does?"

"Yeah," I answered. "And it's a simple question. Do you like the girl or not?"

He hesitated and he picked up his backpack. "Sure," he whispered. "Why not?" And then he left.

A/N-Sorry for the shortness! I was listening to "Ain't No Mountain High Enough" on my computer and suddenly had the urge to write. Excuse me for any spelling or grammar errors, I am extremely lazy with that stuff, and I want to have fun with this story. It's been a while since I wrote anything like this story so...yeah...

Robby will be in the next chapter, promise and thank you for my lovely 5 reviews. They all were all awesome and I reviewed most of you back. Excuse if I'm coming off as I review whore. It's late. I'm tired. And I seriously need to get that song out of my head.

"Ain't no mountain high enough, ain't no valley low enough, and no river wide enough--

to keep me from gettin' to you babe!"