He does seem to have gotten more toxic over the years. Not that Len and I have ever been friends, but he doesn’t usually single me out for quite so much special torture. I’d worry he’s getting obsessed with me, but I can’t imagine him caring too much about anything.
Mrs. Barch likes to start class off with a clap. I remember this from when I had her for bio in the ninth grade.
“This class is not about the exam,” Mrs. Barch begins.
“Yeah, right,” I mumble.
“We’re here to learn advanced concepts of biology, not master a three-hour test. It will be tough, but anything worthwhile is. I expect you to be here on time and ready to work.”
Jon and Stacy are scribbling furiously in their notebooks. I pick up my pen, but I have no idea what they could possibly be writing down. “Don’t be late to class?” Isn’t that sort of an obvious one?
Mrs. Barch claps again and tells us that whomever we are sitting next to will be our bio partners for the year. She counts us off, and I end up with Len.You’re kidding me, I think as Mrs. Barch sends me an apologetic look. Fun fact: Even teachers think Len is a leech.
“This is a nightmare,” I whisper.
Len smiles at me and knits his hands behind his head. “What’s that?” he says. “You’re going to have to speak up, Rosaline.”
“Nothing.”
“I for one am really looking forward to this arrangement.”
“I’m sure you are.”
I start filling out a handout Lauren is passing around. It’s easy stuff, mostly name, class year, etc., and it allows me the opportunity to let my mind wander. Okay, so it’s not really wandering. It’s more like power walking. Power walking straight over to Rob. I’m trying to think of what I should wear tonight, whether I should put my hair up or down. Usually I’m fairly low maintenance. Olivia and Charlie are the ones with all the products—sprays, mists, and one disconcerting powder—but I want tonight to be perfect.
“Hey, daydreamer,” Len says. He’s leaning over me, wearing that annoying entitled smirk.
I snap to attention and realize I’ve missed the first half of what he just asked me. Damnit. Now he’s going to think I’m an even bigger idiot than he already does. Not that I care. I just don’t want to add any fuel to his fire, as my dad would say.
“What?”
“First day focus issues, huh?” He tilts his head to the side and gives me a sympathetic nod.
“Should we just divide the assignment, or what?”
He hands me a sheet of paper, his pink thumb lifted toward me.
“It’s a birthmark,” he states.
“I didn’t ask.”
“You didn’t need to.”
“Anyway,” I say, “which should I take?”
“Why don’t you do the first five,” Len says, frowning and nodding. “We can discuss them all during class tomorrow.”
“Didn’t know you were so organized.”
“Add it to the list,” he says. Then he’s out the door before I even have time to think up a comeback.
The student activities committee is for seniors only, but Charlie has been on since the tenth grade. Olivia and I were voted in at the end of last year, with Lauren, so we had a few sessions in the spring already. I saw pretty quickly that the whole thing was going to work because of Lauren. Her older sister joined when Lauren was a freshman, and Lauren has basically been taking notes ever since. Even though Charlie would probably disagree, Lauren is the fulcrum. Making SAC work is definitely her new seven.
We’re trying to be involved, I guess, but it’s hard to get anything done when Olivia wants to use the hour to talk to Charlie about the current drama with Jake and whether Mr. Davis was really suspended for flirting with Darcy. For the record, I thinkthat one is definitely true. She was constantly saying things to him like “Is thatreallywhat you want?” in response to him asking us to run laps.
“Can we start?” Charlie asks. We’re all sitting in the PL, and it’s a quarter after three, which means we are ten minutes behind schedule. Which means Charlie is irritated.
“Mhm,” Olivia mumbles. She’s on her phone, working the keypad, and she doesn’t look up.
