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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟏𝟒
" 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 "
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Mack.

The golden boy plops his tray on the table and takes the seat across from me. Behind his shoulder, I get a glimpse of Anya's table exchanging glances and whispers as they side eye where we are.

"Sorry I didn't get to walk with you this morning," he says, scooping a spoonful of the box macaroni they pass off as authentic pasta at this school. "So how was the first day with the D-Class?"

"They hate me."

"Come on. Don't say that. They're probably just warming up to you."

I scoff. "Yeah, that's why I'm eating alone, Mack. They barked at me."

"They barked at you?" Mack turns to look at the D-Class table.

"I called them runts, remember?" I say.

He winces, flashing back to that conversation at the diner. "You know, sometimes, I wish I could put a leash on that tongue of yours. You're the smartest guy I know, Nico, but sometimes you're just really dumb."

"Dude! I'm struggling here!" I say to get a little sympathy, but of course I know he's right.

He laughs, and it's almost enough to erase my worries. He reaches inside his coat and pulls out a chocolate bar. Cloud 9. He's been at the Asian mart again. I wonder if he went there just to get me this.

"Thanks, Mack," I say, feeling some of the weight get lifted off my shoulders.

"Eat up, D-Class," he jests, struggling to get the lid off his jell-o. "Lunch break is ticking."

"Don't remind me," I groan, finally taking my first bite of lunch. "God, I have to go back to that godawful classroom in a few minutes."

"It can't be that bad."

"Someone ate an eraser, Mack. And they all clapped for him."

He chuckles. "I'd clap for him, too. That's impressive." He sees the better part of people. I never know why.

"I slipped on someone's phlegm!"

His face wrinkles. At least that got to him. "That's gross! Here, have this," he says, pushing the jell-o cup towards me. "I don't want it anymore."

"No, thanks!"

The rest of lunch went by fast. Too fast. I dread going back to the classroom. For the first time in my life, I actually consider pretending to be sick just to get out of school. God, I'm turning into a delinquent like them.

"I'll walk you to your room," Mack says, hiking his sling back over his shoulder. And just like that, I no longer hate the idea of going back to the hell that is Room S-14.

"You sure?" I ask, even though he's already leading the way. "It's a far walk from your classroom."

He shrugs, weaving through a string of students leaving the cafeteria as well. "I don't mind. I kinda wanna see the new classmates. Make sure no one there's to take my place."

I laugh. "As if. No one even sits next to me, Mack."

"Harsh," he comments.

Along the way, he spills some A-Class news. Apparently, Anya is trying to replace me as the class cheat sheet. Keyword: trying.

"She hosts study groups at her house now," he says, being a good little spy. "After that stunt we pulled at Topnotch Café, she doesn't talk to me anymore, but I heard she hired a tutor."

"Spending daddy's money, no doubt."

"Anything to get that 4.3 GPA and those Gucci bags."

At 12:15 p.m., we arrive at the classroom, which is still empty. It doesn't surprise me that the D-Class aren't at all that interested in coming to class early. They were still flinging peas at each other at the cafeteria when we headed out. Nothing but a couple of notebooks and some stray bags occupy the seats now, and afternoon classes are about to start in a few minutes.

We roam around the classroom for a little bit. Nothing much to see. The bulletin board is practically empty. The view outside the window looks over the field, which is nice, but it's also a reminder that I'm in a class with a couple of varsity athletes who couldn't care less about grade point averages.

"Lucky there's no phlegm on the floor this time," Mack jests.

"Don't remind me," I say, going to my seat.

"Whoa! You're not sitting in the teacher's direct eyeline. Who are you and what did you do to my overachieving best friend?"

I groan. "They have this stupid rule that only the students who are lagging behind can take those seats," I explain.

"Doesn't sound stupid to me," he says, taking the empty seat next to mine.

"It's not," I admit. It's actually a very considerate strategy, but I get annoyed when I can't have my way in the classroom.

A second of silence flies by, and I notice that Mack is looking at me funny. I am suddenly too aware that we are the only students in this classroom yet we're sitting so close together.

"Hey, Nico?" he says, his voice changing the vibe of the conversation. "About that ki--"

The doors open, and some of my new classmates come chirping in. Some of the backbenchers. I don't see Kitty and Lin yet. None of the students pay any attention to Mack and me. A couple more enter the room as well.

I look at my watch. 12:23. "Shouldn't you get to class?" I say.

He's quick to shake his head. "In a while," he says. "Listen. About what I said at the theater --"

I hear footsteps approach. Standing over us, a stranger clears his throat. Mack and I both look up at the same time. Oh, God.

"You're in my seat," the boy says to Mack. He turns to look at me and flashes that signature swoon-worthy smirk. "Hello, Snob."

For some reason, my heart starts pounding like he's just triggered my fight-or-flight response. And I am suddenly speechless. It's Hot Mess.

"You know this guy?" Mack nudges me. "I thought you said no one sits next to you."

Oh, right. Lin did say that the seat was taken. I thought she was just being a bitch. "The seat was unoccupied this morning," I say.

"That's because it's my seat," Hot Mess reiterates. "I just arrived."

"I'm sorry, who are you again?" There's something territorial in Mack's tone, which I can't comprehend. Maybe he's just annoyed someone cut into our conversation. "I'm Malik Porter. I don't think we've met."

Hot Mess hears the tone as well, but he just scoffs at it. Instead of addressing Mack, he extends his hand at me. "Chipp Rivera." He finally has a name.

"Nico," I say, shaking his hand. I can't even speak to him long enough to mention my full name.

"Nico," he repeats. "Great. I won't have to keep calling you Snob anymore."

I laugh a little. "And I won't have to refer to you as Hot Mess in my head anymore." Shit! Did I just say that? What is wrong with my brain.

"You call him that?" Mack cringes at me.

"You think I'm hot?" Chipp says, amused, and I automatically let go of his hand.

The school bell rings, thankfully saving me from this hell of a conversation. Mack begrudgingly offers the seat to the burly boy and rushes a goodbye as he leaves for his classes. Kitty and Lin soon arrive, greeting the hot mess next to me. They seem to be good friends. And finally the teacher comes, and I don't have to deal with the embarrassment of our conversation.

I clear my mind. No Mack. No Chipp. Just Trigonometry for the next hour.