Chapter Seven

The Incest Debate

Elle

The tour took longer than expected. When we entered the auditorium, it was already packed, and an older woman in a pencil-skirted suit and heels was addressing the students. Allison waved goodbye to me as she left to join her friends wherever. Great – now I was left to find somewhere to sit on my own. Talk about awkward. Well, it certainly felt awkward, anyway.

I edged my way along the back row of seats which were, unsurprisingly, completely filled. I sighed to myself. I hesitated to the extent that people started noticing the creeper hanging back behind the last row. I started forward in light of my hasty decision to preserve my social dignity as well as I could. The first few rows I passed were completely filled with whispering teenagers, and the next few had occupants who looked less than inviting, so I quickly ruled them out. I swiftly passed them by and continued looking. I saw Allison with her friends (who all, by the way, looked like each of them could be her twin) nestled in a corner against the back wall. (She sent me an apologetic smile. Quaint.) There was another group of students that very naturally stood out – a group of clearly testosterone-ridden boys, all looking at me in mild disinterest.

So I, the unassuming New Girl, was having to make my grand entrance by walking by myself down the center of the aisle in the middle of orientation, continuously asking "Is this seat taken?" until somebody maybe took pity upon my poor, battered dignity and might let me sit at the aisle beside their feet like their dog? Maybe they'd buy me a nice collar-and-leash two-fer-one set with rhinestones and all. Oh my gosh, and maybe they'd get me a pretty metal food dish with my name on the side, which they'd have tastefully changed to 'Lucy' or 'Daisy' or some other tasteful doggy name…Oh, God. I'm contemplating my life as a dog.

Somebody. Kill me now. Serious, fatal maimings would be sufficient.

"Hello," The woman at the front suddenly said, smiling from behind her podium and microphone. "I'm Ms. Rhoades, your principal. To all freshmen and new students: Welcome to Arnold High!" She paused and glanced at the large group of stiff, nervous-looking underclassmen, all of whom were sat in the first few rows of seats. They all stayed silent, barely acknowledging the fact that she'd spoken to them.

Ms. Rhoades cleared her throat awkwardly and continued. "And to our upperclassmen: Welcome back!" This time, there was much yelling, whistling, clapping, and overall tomfoolery from the rest of the student body. I inconspicuously sat beside a group of quiet girls who looked about – I dunno – maybe sixteen…ish. Oh, well. (I wonder if they would allow suggestions on my name…Fido was definitely out of the question.)

To be honest, I completely tuned out Rhoades as she babbled on about school integrity and sportsmanship and good grades and getting ready for the rest of our blah blah blah. (Really? She says all of this like none of us have heard any of it before. Pfft.) Instead, I looked around and studied my classmates. It might seem a bit weird or odd or whatever, but it prepared me for what my peers in this setting would be like. I'd grown up going to school with the same kids since Pre-K, so I had completely prepared myself to be blind-sighted by the difference in the kids' behavior here in the city before I moved.

But the thing is, anything I found somebody doing, I could imagine somebody back home doing. There was a girl three rows up twirling a strand of hair around her finger and staring at the ceiling with a blank expression, like I could vividly picture Claire Wasson doing as Mr. Bounds babbled on about the Punic Wars. After I looked at the people around me, I saw a boy in the group of testosterone-altered males sneaking looks at that same girl. Brian Herring and Claire Wasson. Brian had been in love with Claire since elementary school, but she'd always been oblivious. We'd all thought she was leading him on for the longest time, but she really had no clue…They got together last March.

Damn. Did I actually miss any of them?

Yeah.

I never expected to.

"Okay! We're splitting you up into your homerooms now," Rhoades said, grinning and clapping her hands together while she stared at us. A blank silence was abruptly interrupted by some groans from the males of the student body, and Rhoades laughed. "Let's just get this over with. Homeroom teachers are outside with their rosters. I'll call you out in groups; you'll go out to the hallway, meet your teacher, and go to your classes. You'll have time to go over the handbook with your teacher, and then we'll have a lunch break. After you guys eat, we're going to do a quick run-through of your classes, then we'll dismiss. Any questions?" I had no questions, but I'd decided to tune back in to whatever she was on about as soon as the word 'split up' left her lips and entered my ears. (Did that sound weird? Oh, well.)

She started with the freshmen. (I guess that was to be expected.) They filed out group-by-group as she read names off the clipboard in her hand. Most of them still seemed to be petrified by the new atmosphere, but the ones that seemed like the 'Oh-yes-indeedy-I-am-quite-awesome' type were…breaking out of their shells, in a way. They were talking quietly and laughing nervously, while their peers stood by silently.

Soon after, the sophomores and juniors left the auditorium in their classes. (The girls sitting beside me were sophomores. Allison was a junior. Fun facts of the day!) Finally, finally, Rhoades flipped the sheet of paper containing the information on the juniors over the board and smiled at us apologetically. "Seniors," she said, and promptly began naming us off. I felt thoroughly awkward being the only senior not sitting in the last rows, but whatever. I got up with my group when Rhoades spoke my name into the microphone and led the way (for some odd reason…God, don't any of these people know I have no clue where the hell I'm going?) into the hallway. There stood a grey-haired man, a vibrant-looking middle-aged redhead, and Marcus from the office. (Dafuq? Isn't he like, the secretary or some shit?)

A small group of girls walked forward to the redheaded woman, who grinned back at them. "Mrs. Schamus!" the shortest of the girls squealed, and Schamus (our teacher, apparently. I'd be the first to admit I wasn't giving Rhoades my rapt attention when she gave us the finer details of our homeroom class) patted her shoulder.

"Come on, Mallory, we'll get to the classroom now."

Somehow, I wasn't surprised to see she was an English teacher. She had posters with famous quotes and excerpts on them, papers pinned to the walls, books lining shelves behind her desk. I kind of, maybe, sort of loved this woman already, and I didn't even know if she was a good teacher or not yet.

"Eh, Scham," a voice said after we'd all been seated. (I chose a nice, inconspicuous seat in the far back corner. A couple of guys and a girl gave me dirty looks for taking a seat from their little posse, but they sat a seat away anyway. Whatever.) The owner of said voice entered the room, some guy. (Yeah, I know. This school apparently has lots of those.) He gave Schamus, who smiled fondly at him, a fleeting side-hug and moved to sit beside the group whose space I'd inadvertently invaded. (Back-of-the-class party! Woo!) (Not.)

"Hey," he said, doing that weird handshake (thing) that guys do with the two dudes in the group. He mussed up the hair of the girl, who glared at him. "Did I miss much?" He shot a glance at me, probably because I was the only other coherently-thinking organism in their vicinity, but it didn't last long. He turned back to the girl and grinned as she muttered something about the same old, same old.

"Sorry, Care. Mom held me up. You got to school alright," The guy said, sitting in the desk beside the girl Care (nickname for Carrie?) behind one of the other guys. (Gah! I need names to properly portray this interaction!)

"No thanks to you," 'Care' muttered darkly, shooting him a pouting glare. The guy just shrugged and the group continued to converse. I tuned out of their conversation because they no longer interested me.

Schamus decided to begin reading the handbook a few minutes later. I was beginning to wish I was back in orientation. Even Schamus looked bored. (Was it my imagination or was she reading faster than was humanly possible?) When she'd finally finished reading, she took a deep breath and glanced at the clock that hung on the wall above her dry erase board. "Only eleven? Well, I guess you guys can…mingle. Talk quietly. If I get a migraine from you buggers, there'll be hell to pay." Ah, a teacher who shamelessly swears. I may be in Heaven.

I set my head on my desk on my arms (it's a paradox, eh?), and closed my eyes to the buzzing classroom. I wanted to sleep, if I was being honest with myself. And I tried to do just that. Tried, being the operative word.

Maybe ten or fifteen minutes into my would-be nap, I heard the four nearest desks squeak slightly as they were filled. I frowned into my arms, but didn't move.

"So, you're new, right? What's your name?"

Goddamn it, why do these people have to be so social?

I looked up, almost expecting the group before me to be the one with the guys and The Girl 'Care.' But, no. It was actually just a group of girls, all looking at me with different expressions. A scowl, two smiles, and a blank look of utter apathy. I can see the people here are exceptionally receiving.

"Hm? Oh, yeah. I'm new. My name's Elle. I moved here over the summer."

The girls looked at each other at this news, then back at me. I felt like an animal trapped in the Zoo, being stared at by the Big, Bad People. "So, where're you from?" the Girl with the Scowl asked, playing with the end of a strand of her strawberry blonde hair.

"Just a small town an hour or so away from here," I replied, looking at each of the girls in turn. They looked like they were certainly diversified in pretty much everything. Two looked relatively friendly; the other two looked like they would rather be anywhere else on the planet at the moment. One looked slightly chubby, another almost sickly thin. Two looked startlingly average. It always struck me how similar and different each and every teenager was from its peers.

Okay, so now I sound like Dr. Phil. Shoot me in the foot.

One of the Smiling Girls, the one with really curly hair and bright, light brown eyes, leaned forward on her desk and smiled even wider. "So, you're name's Elle? That's pretty. I'm Mallory, but these guys call me Squee, and that's Destiny," she pointed to the skinny one with an exceptionally blank expression on her face, "Mellissa," the other Smiling Girl brightened at her name and waved, giving her straight blonde hair a bit of a flick (Egad.) "And that's Jennifer. Ignore her, she's just sore because she had to move and she's lazier than a…sloth. Or something." Squee (how the hell did she get that name?) sighed and waved her hand at the girl who'd asked me where I was from, the Girl with the Scowl. It took me a second to notice something.

"Jennifer?" I laughed quietly, barely able to believe the irony. Her name was Jennifer, like my Jen back home. Why were so many things reminding me of that hellhole today? All I'd ever dreamed of growing up was getting out of it.

The Girl with the Scowl, Jennifer, allowed her perfected scowl to deepen. "What's so funny about my name?" Her hair was strawberry blonde, almost gingerish, and she toyed with the ends absent-mindedly.

"Oh, nothing," I said quickly, hoping I hadn't…I dunno…offended her. "It's just, my best friend back home's name was Jennifer. I thought it was kind of ironic."

"Yeah, well don't expect me to be your best friend here," she snapped, frowning and turning around in her desk to face the front, where Schamus sat at her desk, knitting…something. (Was that a banana or a scarf?)

Squee (Mallory? What am I supposed to call her?) turned to me and rolled her eyes. "She's just pissy today. I, personally, think it's cool that your best friend at home's name is Jennifer, and that this particular Jennifer is giving Jennifers all around a bad name," Squee said emphatically, poking Jennifer's shoulder. (Jennifer ignored her. Shocker.) I just nodded in noncommittal agreement as Squee-Mallory turned to look at me again. "No pun intended, by the way."

I just realized she said, "Jennifer is giving Jennifers all around a bad name." Bad name? Geddit? Because 'Jennifer's their names. And this Jennifer was being pissy, so she was giving them a bad name…

Oh, well. I laughed.

For a second, there was a loud, tinkling laughter that filled the classroom, and everybody turned to look at The Girl 'Care.' When she noticed everybody looking at her, she straightened up and scowled, turning back to her group-o-guys. Destiny, Jennifer, Mellissa, Squee, and I all turned back around to form our interesting little social circle. Jennifer scowled. (I think Jennifer's scowl is far more intimidating than The Girl 'Care's. Not that I'm saying that just to get on her good side. I mean, wouldn't that make her hate me even more? And anyway, she won't even know I said her scowl was more intimidating because I thought it in my head rather than spoke it through my mouth. Oh, God, why did you give me the gift of the Babble?)

"I hate her," Jennifer said, narrowing her eyes.

"Why? Who are they?"I asked casually, sending a super short glance at the group in which The Girl 'Care' sat. Jennifer rolled her eyes and The-Other-Smiling-Girl-Who-Is-Not-Squee Mellissa sighed, wrinkling her nose.

"Carrie is kind of a bitch, but there's no need to get active about it, Jen. It'll only piss you off." If I did say so myself, Jennifer needed no more pissing off. As I thought this, Mellissa gave Jennifer one of those Super-Special-Best-Friend-I-Can-See-Through-You glances. (I recognized it because Nell and I had like, perfected ours over the courses of our lives.) Jennifer continues to be Little Miss Grumpy and deigned to argue.

Squee and Destiny watched impassively as Jennifer and Mellissa bickered. "Guys," Squee finally said, exasperated. "Just shut up." She ran her fingers through her curly hair before looking at me. "Carrie Spinnet, that's who they're talking about. She's really not all bad, she just doesn't like the attention she gets when you guys actively hate her," Squee muttered, looking thoroughly disappointed in her friends. Jennifer and Mellissa looked like scolded children.

(Throughout all of this, Destiny has said literally nothing. I have decided to deem her Destiny the Skinny and Silent One. It fits. I swear, she has some sort of weight disorder or something. Not that there's anything wrong with that. Maybe it's just, you know, hereditary or something. But coming from a slightly chubby girl like myself, her skinniness was slightly unnerving.)

Mellissa pulled a face and shot a covert glance at Carrie's back as she leaned in toward me. "That guy with the curly hair? The blonde one?" (Here, she waited for me to reassure her of my comprehension. I nodded.) "He's Jace, her brother. And they're like, best friends, which is kind of weird. I mean, I wouldn't be best friends with my brother for anything."

I simply nodded. Personally not finding it at all odd that they were best friends, I decided not voicing my difference in opinion was best.

"They're twins, Mel. It's not weird," Squee said, sighing and rolled her eyes at her friend, who wrinkled her nose and crossed her arms, leaning back in her desk.

"Whatever. They're closer than Jen and me. I call incest."

"Mellissa!" Jennifer hissed. Apparently, this was where she drew the line, too. "He's fucked half the girls in our school. If he was in love with his sister, he wouldn't have to. He'd just have to take a nice stroll down the hallway at home." Jennifer laughed humorlessly and rolled her eyes at her best friend and looked away.

"Cover-up?" Mellissa offered up feebly, pleasing silently with me to support her. I frowned in indecision. To help, or not to help? That is the question.

(I decided to shrug and not care.)

"If it helps anybody here, she's flirting pretty shamelessly with the ginger," I said, looking at Carrie's group of people again. Sure enough, she was flirting with the redhaired guy, who was sitting beside her brother (who I now noticed was the one who'd come in late.) I looked back at "my group." Jennifer was red in the face, and Mel was looking awkwardly at her.

"Jen?" she asked tentatively, reaching out to touch her best friend's arm. The bell interrupted just as Jennifer jerked away, storming from the classroom. I followed Squee and Destiny the Skinny and Silent One to the cafeteria as Mellissa chased Jennifer down the hall.

That went well.

Chapter Oo8: Blowout Friday

"Oh, would you shut up?"

Carrie got up from the couch and stormed off into the kitchen, a glare plastered on her face. Max and I laughed at her while Ben's eyes remained glued to the television. (Only commercials were playing. Freak.) "Hey, Care?" Ben called out absent-mindedly , picking up the remote control and changing the channel. (Disney? Really?)

"What?" she snapped as we heard a cupboard creaking open. God, was she PMSing or something?

"Can you get me a Sprite and some Cheetos?" She opened the fridge and slammed it shut before reentering the den, completely laden with snacks and sodas. She wordlessly passed Ben his Sprite before chucking the rest of the crap into my lap. She was scowling at us, but I saw her expression soften when Ben muttered a quiet "thanks." (He was enthralled by "So Random." I hate this show. What is wrong with him?)

Max seemed to read my mind because he reached across Carrie and me to steal the remote from Ben, who yelled in indignance. "What the actual fuck?" He roared, trying to steal it back, but Carrie held him back, laughing. She grabbed the bag of Puffy Cheetos from the pile on my lap, opened it, and shoved it at him. Startled, he jerked away before she shook the bag in his face. "Dammit, Benjamin! I got these things for you out of the goodness of my heart, and by God, you will eat them!" She flared fiercely at him until he cautiously took the bag, eating the Cheetos slowly.

My sister is scary when she wants to be.

Once Ben began eating the Cheetos at a pace that pleased Carrie, we changed the channel from Disney to one of the major networks. TBS, maybe. I couldn't be bothered to check. The Big Bang Theory was on. Carrie and Max loved this show, and I could tolerate it, but Ben detested it. The show was shamelessly nerdy at best, but it had its funny moments. I, unlike Ben, actually understood some of their jokes.

"Quidditch, maybe, but football?" The weird little guy with the 70's haircut and the turtleneck said, staring disbelievingly at the TV set in front of him. Carrie giggled and Max smiled, shaking his head.

"That funny little bastard," he chuckled, causing me to laugh. Ben shot us annoyed looks and continued sulking in his corner of the couch.

"Oh, get a sense of humor," I advised Ben, still highly amused. He just glowered at me before looking away.

We watched the show for a while, but soon the episode was over and some other sitcom's theme started playing. Ben restlessly stood and yawned, stretching his arms high above his head.

"Guys," he whined pleadingly, "don't make me go through that again." His arms dropped to his sides and he shook his head, his ginger hair bouncing. "That was so bad."

Oh, Benjamin. Always the eloquent one.

Carrie nonchalantly popped a Cheeto into her mouth, not looking at him. "You just don't know good television, Bennyboo," she cooed, laughing when his face turned bright red.

I decided to save Ben from his embarrassment by chiming in, "What are we doing tonight?" It was Friday night, but not just any Friday night. The first day of school had come and gone, and come Monday, the student population of Arnold High would have to put away their party supplies (you know, for the most part. There's always still the hardcore lushes who like to break out the Smirnoff every other weekend or so) and hit the books. That meant that this weekend was basically going to be one big blowout.

Eh. I could live without them.

Carrie frowned and counted off the parties she knew of on her hand. "Well, Madison Kurley's having one as always, but we are so not going to that one. She's a total whore, and she never has enough sodas for Max." Yeah, Max doesn't like alcohol, but he's a total party freak anyway. He's even more of a freak than Ben. "Jaden Carter's having one because his parents are on their, what? Tenth honeymoon? Anyway, you know his are usually alright." She scrunched up her face in thought. "Everyone else is going to, well..Jennifer's party…"

Carrie glanced awkwardly at Ben, who was intently watching Ross and Rachel bicker on the television. I sighed and shook my head as Carrie looked away, seeming slightly deflated.

Jennifer had been Ben's girlfriend for almost a complete, legit year. (Even though I can't remember her last name for the life of me.) That's a record for him. I mean, you don't even know – he usually doesn't even ask the girl's name first before going after her. But he was smitten beyond anything with that girl; it was so painfully obvious to everybody. Since she broke up with him last April, he'd just been…different. Quieter. He'd rather stay at either Carrie's and my house or Max's and just watch TV rather than go out and do something or go home himself.

Sure, Jennifer got along alright with Carrie, Max and I while she and Ben were going out. She would hang out with us sometimes, even though she already had her little group of girl friends. Now we kind of hated her, though, for what she did to Ben. I mean, she broke up with him on their fourteen-month-anniversary or some shit for no reason at all. The dude literally sat on my bed and cried for like a straight hour, and for the next month he barely spoke to anyone.

"Let's go to Jen's," Ben said suddenly, and we all gaped at him.

Before long, there was a chorus of "Oh, hell to the no"s, "What the fuck, are you crazy?"s, and my personal favorite, "Get your head out of your fucking ass so you can hear what you're saying! Christ, I think I just had a fucking heart attack!" (Thanks for that one, Max.)

Ben stared at us blankly before looking back at the TV. "I can't avoid her forever. It's been like four months, guys. And anyway, she…she invited me earlier."

"Invited you, maybe," Carrie grumbled, glaring at Ben. She and Ben were really close, especially since the breakup. I guess you could say she kind of put him back together. (She has an infallible method of "tough love.")

"She knows that if I come, you guys come with me. I wouldn't go without you. I won't," he amended quickly, sighing and pressing the power button on the television's remote control. The screen immediately went blank. "I just think that we should. Just to prove to myself that I'm, you know, really over her." He looked at each of us in turn, obviously pleading with us.

I wasn't sure if he was begging us to go, or if it was something else.

It scared the shit out of me. Especially since I didn't know why it scared me.

Chapter Nine: Untitled Thus Far