Since Johnny head butted Holland for bullying me and we'd be seen together – as friends – everyone was acting different around me at school. Some people were avoiding me, diverting their eyes to focus on anything that was not me, scared that Johnny might hurt them too if they annoyed me, I presumed. Some people even started being nice me.

At lunch, I headed over to sit with Ricky. Calvin and Robert eventually coming over to sit with us too, both sending me a warm smile when they sat down. I smiled back because it was the polite thing to do but secretly, I did not want to be anywhere near them.

They did not want to be my friend when I was prime target for Holland but now, I was protected by Johnny it seemed they were more than happy to sit beside me.

"I hate boys." Jessica slams down her tray and sits beside me.

"Thanks," Calvin muttered.

"I didn't mean you guys. I'm just so angry with guys in general."

Jessica is the kind of person that you never need ask how she is as you already know. She is open and lets everybody know exactly what she is feeling, and that is one the main reasons I like her. She not complicated. She is simple and gets straight to the point.

"What's happened?" Ricky asked, placing his burger down to give her his undivided attention.

"I asked Matt Porter to the dance. I figured he was a safe choice since he kissed me last week at Kelly's party but apparently, he can't, because he's going with his girlfriend of three weeks."

"You kissed another girl's boyfriend?"

"Yeah, well I doubt she'll be his girlfriend for much longer when I tell her what he did."

"She'll just hate you for it." Calvin raised an eyebrow.

"I know." Jessica frowned. "I hate girls, too."

"How come you asked Matt anyway? I thought you'd be asking that Derek guy you're always on about?"

I always heard Jessica drop Derek's name in conversation. It was mainly about how much she loved the top he was wearing, or how he had smiled at her as they passed in the hallway, or how their hands accidentally touched as she handed out the textbooks in science.

"Like he'd go with me," Jessica said, making eyes at the red-headed boy a few tables over. I glanced him over. He had a strong jaw, broad shoulders, and a glistening smile – handsome. "He hangs out with the popular girls. He could have anyone he wanted."

"So?" I asked. I did not see the big deal if she was popular or not. As far as I knew love did not understand the concept of popularity.

"So, he goes after the skinny, conventionally pretty girls." Jessica rolls her eyes as if I am stupid for not understanding. She often tried to explain the concept of the rating scale to me, how you could not go after a 'ten' if you were a 'four', or however it worked.

"I heard he asked Lizzie Turner to the dance." My ears pricked up as Calvin said Lizzie's name. "And she said no."

"I hear she's turned down five boys for the dance. She says she's not going."

"Sounds like attention seeking to me," Jessica muttered below her breath.

"Speak of the devil." Calvin's eyes dart to the door just as Lizzie enters. She looks posh, dressed in a black skirt with the regulatory white blouse tucked into it. Her hair appeared to have been shoved into a messy bun in haste, but it suited her well.

A few people wave at her as she walks in, and she smiles kindly back.

"I don't see why anyone would want to go with her anyway. She so full of herself!"

"Yeah, but she's hot. I mean, the things I'd do to that girl, Bro," Robert said and smirked into his burger.

I've never wanted to punch someone before, but I certainly imagined doing it then.

"Don't talk about her like that," I objected.

"Has little Harry got a crush?" Calvin asked, nudging me playfully on the arm.

"No!" I grumbled out and quickly picked up my tray of food. "I just don't like you talking about anyone like that. She isn't a piece of meat."

"Harry!" Ricky tried to protest but I had already begun to walk away from them. I do not know why I was so angry, but I did not like them talking about her. They did not know her.

I stopped to glance at her across the room. She had sat down beside Johnny on a table the other side of the dining room and she was smiling at him, and he was smirking back.

I walked over to them and slammed my tray down beside Johnny's, climbing onto the bench next to him. He did not even bother to look up at me, and yet I felt welcomed.

Lizzie gave me a puzzled look before her eyes met Johnny's, an uncertainty between them.

"It's Harry, isn't it?" Lizzie asked, her eyes falling back on me, and I nodded yes.

"You're never sat with me before at lunch," Johnny mumbled to me. "Everything ok?"

"Fine," I grumbled, still feeling annoyed, and suddenly Lizzie was laughing below her breath.

"What?" Johnny snapped at her, and she shook her head, still laughing. "Good. Don't you have somewhere else to be anyway?"

"Is a girl not allowed to sit with her big brother from time to time?" Lizzie batted her eyelashes at him innocently and then turned to face me with a huge smile still spread across her face. She kept her eyes on me for a moment too long, and from anyone else it would have made me uncomfortable.

"I heard you're not going to the dance?" I quickly said.

She shrugged. "Nobody really wants to go with me."

"From what I've heard, everyone wants to go with you." I do not know Lizzie very well, but I do know that she is never without a boy beside her. I often saw her flirting with them all in the courtyard.

"Why aren't you going with Henry?" Johnny asked.

"He keeps calling me beautiful."

"Oh, I'm so sorry. How are you coping!" Johnny rolled his eyes.

"Don't get sassy. It doesn't suit you." Lizzie says. "I mean, he only calls me beautiful. It is like the only adjective he can use to describe me. It's monotonous now."

"I can think of a few more," Johnny says with a sarcastic smirk.

Lizzie rolled her eye, ignoring him. She turns her attention back to me and continues, "It's like, I don't want to be called beautiful all the time. I want to be told I am smart, or that I am handling things well. I want to be told I am passionate and strong, and that I did something good today.

"I want to be told that I am appreciated and loved, not just easy on the eyes. Like, I don't want someone to look at me and think she is pretty." She pauses for a moment, her eyes searching mine. "I want someone to look at me and think she is everything."

It was my turn to stare at her for longer than perhaps I should, and I cannot help but wonder if she truly is all those things. She seems smart, and kind, and passionate.

"I think you might be all of those things," I said to her.

"You barely know me."

"No, but I'd like to."

She smiled timidly at me, almost as if it is the first compliment she had ever got, but I highly doubt that.

"I get it," she said, more to Johnny that to me. "And I agree."

"Agree?" I asked.

"Shut up," Johnny said to both of us. "Your squawking is getting on my nerves."

Lizzie sighed loudly, her eyes resting in mine. "Ignore him, Harry. He's not in a very good mood today at all."

"You got mugged, Lizzie! I'm I supposed to be overjoyed with enthusiasm?"

"You got mugged?" I chimed in worried. The thought of anyone coming at Lizzie, her frame so delicate and small, made me uneasy.

"It was no big deal. They took mine and Marie's purses, but I mean all I had in there was 3 pounds and expired gift cards, so I doubt it was even worth their time."

"You're ok though?"

"I'm fine," she said and as soon as she smiled, I felt myself relax.

"That's not the point though." Johnny pushed his food away from him in disgust. "You could have been hurt. If I ever find out who it was, I swear to God, I'll kill them."

"I know you would which is why it's a pretty good job nobody knows who did it. I would rather you were not locked up in a cell right now. I mean, who else is going to brighten up my day by being so cheery and happy all the time." It was often hard to tell Lizzie and Johnny were related, other than when her sarcastic tone mirrored his perfectly.

"I could be cheery if I wanted to be, but I don't want to be, so I'm not."

Lizzie lent forward to give her brother a brief kiss on the forehead and he cracked a crooked smile. "Just because our father drives us insane at home, it doesn't mean we have to drag that insanity to school."

"Shouldn't you be in lesson?" Johnny rolled his eyes at her. I often forgot Lizzie was not in the same year as me and Johnny. She seemed so much older than she really was.

Lizzie simply smiled in response to her brother. She never seemed fazed by his bitterness.

"Yes, I should." Lizzie rose from her seat and planted another kiss on Johnny's cheek. I thought perhaps he might push her away or at very least grimace, but he remained impassive as his sister walked away from us – a skip in her step.

As Johnny's attention shift back to me, my mind suddenly turns back to what Lizzie had said about their father driving them crazy at home.

"You never talk much about your father." I was too inquisitive sometimes for my own liking. I wanted to know more about their father. I wanted to know how alike mine he may be.

"He's currently trying to make me go to the Church Camp this summer." I laughed a little below my breath, less because I thought the idea of Johnny attending Church Camp was funny and more because I realised their father sounded further from mine than ever before.

"Sounds, erm, interesting? I'm guessing you said no?"

"I said I'll think about it." His response stunned me. There's no way he could truly want to spend a whole summer singing song about God and wearing matching t-shirts. Although, I suppose I had no real idea what Church Camp was like.

"You seriously want to go?" I asked.

"No, of course not." He looked at me as if I had asked the most ridiculous question in the world. "It's just easier if he believes I'm thinking about it."

I nod. "Do you actually believe in God, Johnny?"

"Of course not," he stated. "But Lizzie believes – in God, in Angels. Heaven and Hell. She just thinks our father misunderstands." He grimaced as the word.

"Then what do you believe in?"

"I believe in the Big Bang, Harry. Don't you?"

"Well yes but. . . I mean, I believe there was an explosion, and all was created, but I don't know if it was science, or an act of God, or what." I looked to him, his eyes hard. He was not too open to other opinions, and yet, he still looked to me as if urging me to continue. "I don't know a lot about a lot. I don't know how I came to be here – only that I am."

"Profound," he mumbled, almost sarcastic.

"You asked," I snap back.

He arched an eyebrow. "I did."

"And I don't think it matters anyway. Even if I figure out what I believe in, I don't think I'll tell anyone. Because it is my belief and my choice, and other people knowing only seemingly invites them to try and change my mind."