Chapter 1- Jessica P.O.V

Jessica's first day of the school year starts badly. Her brand new sweater is ruined by the guy who shares her locker grape juice. But she get's a massive crush on the school's quarterback.

I should never have gone on vacation in Europe, Jessica Hart thought. After climbing the Matterhorn, starting high school again feels ridiculous.

The day was Friday, the last day of the first week of school, but Jessica’s first glimpse of Tabb High. Less than twenty hours earlier she had been enjoying the crisp cool air of Switzerland’s Alps. Now she had Southern California’s worst to breathe; the morning was as smoggy as it was hot. Plus she had a terrible case of jet lag. She probably should have skipped what was left of the school week and rested up over Saturday and Sunday, but she had been anxious to see her friends and to check out the senior year. So far it hasn’t impressed her.

“I want to have a party,” Alice McCoy was saying to her as they wove through the crowds in the outdoor hallway towards Jessica’s locker room. “We could get say, thirty kids from Mesa, with thirty kids from Tabb.

Mesa High had been their alma mater until midsummer when those in power had decided that the district could not afford two partially full high schools. Tabb had absorbed perhaps three quarters of Mesa’s students. Although Tabb was older then Mesa, it was far bigger. The other twenty five percent had ended up at Sander’s High, five miles further inland. Fortunately for Jessica the majority of her friends had moved with her to Tabb not the least of whom was Alice McCoy. Two years younger she was- in Jessica’s unbiased opinion- the sweetest girl in the world.

“You mean as a get-to-know-each-other sort of thing?” Jessica asked.

“Yeah. I think it would help break the ice between us.”

“I wouldn’t have worried about any ice today” Jessica said brushing her dark hair off her sweaty forehead. On hot days like this she wished she had Alice’s bright blonde curls; they seem to reflect most of the sun’s rays. “Does this joint have air conditioning?” Jessica asked.

“In some of the rooms.”

“Some?”

“The teacher’s lounge is really cool. I was in there yesterday. They want me to paint a mural on the wall.” Alice laughed. “They want a mountain glacier.

“It figures. I hope you’re charging them?”

“’I’m not.”

“Fool. Back to this party business. How would you know which thirty Tabb kids to invite?”

Alice nodded. “That’s a problem. But maybe in the next week we’ll meet some neat people. Have you run into anyone that you like yet.”

Jessica shook her head. “No, and I’ve been here all of thirty minutes. But maybe by lunch I’ll get some guy to fall in love with me.”

The words came out easily, but were accompanied by a slight feeling of uneasiness. She had gone on few dates while at Mesa High. Guys just didn’t ask her out much. Her best friend, Sara Cantrell, said it was because they were intimidated by their beauty.

“You’re right Sara that must be it. All those guys watching me from across campus and thinking to themselves that there’s a babe beyond their reach. Really, they have a lot of nerve even looking at me.”

Actually Jessica knew she was pretty. Enough people had told her so for enough years, and they couldn’t all be wrong. Besides, she only had to look in the mirror. Her face was a perfect oval, with a firm chin and a wide, full mouth that she had trained to smile even when she didn’t feel much like smiling. Her hair and eyes matched beautifully. The former was dark brown, long and wavy, with a sheen that had stayed with her from infancy; the latter, an even darker brown, large and round, giving her either a playful or nasty look, depending on her mood. And with a carefully controlled diet and daily jogs round the park, she kept her figure slim and supple. She’d even picked up a tan this summer.

I sound practically perfect!

But, no, she wasn’t perfect. She believed like most teenage girls who don’t date much, that there was something wrong with her. Something missing. Yet she didn’t know what it could be. She didn’t understand how Alice- a nice enough looking girl, but certainly no fairy princess- drew girls and guys alike to her in droves. Some people were charismatic, she supposed, and others weren’t, and that was that.

Just then Jessica caught sight of a girl in a cheerleader’s uniform standing beside a tree and chatting with a group of what appeared to be football players. A stab of envy touched her. The past spring she had successfully tried out for the cheerleading squad. And all summer she had been looking forward to entering the mainstream of her school’s social life. But then her school had disappeared, and those who decided such thing- who were those jerks, anyway?- had felt that Tabb High should be allowed to maintain its pep squads without integrating those from Mesa High.

God, now there’s a girl that looks out of reach.

Jessica stopped Alice, gestured in the direction of the cheerleader. Her blonde hair teased and highlighted, the girl appeared hip, arrogant in a flirty way. Even from a distance, Jessica could see the eyes of the guys gather around her flickering down her long tanned legs. “Who is that?” she said.

“Clair Hilrey,” Alice replied. “Funny you should ask. She was one person I had already decided should come to my party.”

“Why?”

“She knows everybody. She’s probably the most popular girl on campus. She’s gorgeous, isn’t she?”

Jessica had already taken a dislike to her. It had been a dream of Jessica’s, since her freshman year, that she might be nominated homecoming queen. Back at Mesa, she would have had an excellent chance. Here it already looked as if the odds were stacked against her. She shrugged, started up the hallway again. “She’s all right.”

Jessica had been at her locker room half an earlier to deposit her notebook before checking in with her senior counsellor. The man had seemed nice enough, but sort of slow and boring, and she couldn’t remember his name any more than she could now remember her locker combination. Stopping in front of the locker, she searched her pockets for the slip of paper with the three magic numbers.

“Whoever you put on your list, “she said finding the paper and twisting the steel dial, “be sure to invite that new guy you’re seeing. What’s his name, Kent?”

Alice looked doubtful. “Clark. I don’t know if he’d come. He doesn’t like to be around a lot of people.”

The dial felt as if it had gum stuck under it. This school was gross. “Where does he take you when you two go out, the desert?”

Alice smiled briefly. “We don’t really go out. He just comes over.” She added quickly, almost nervously. “He’s an incredible artist. He’s helped me so much with my painting.”

Jessica paused, studied her. The topic of Clark disturbed Alice, and Jessica wondered why. More than that, she was concerned. She had always felt the urge to take care of Alice. Perhaps because Alice had lost her parents when she was only ten.

“I’ll have to meet him some day,” she said finally, brushing a curl of hair from Alice’s face. The younger girl nodded, kissed Jessica quickly on the cheek, and began to back away.

“I’m glad you had a happy vacation. I’m even more glad you’re home! Catch you later OK?”

“At lunch. Where should we meet?”

Alice had already begun to slip into the crowd. “I’ll find you!” she called.

After waving  a quick farewell, Jessica turned and opened her locker and discovered that the light blue cashmere sweater her mother had bought for her in Switzerland for two hundred francs was being spotted with somebody’s grape juice. The juice was leaking from a soggy brown-paper lunch bag perched on top of a thick notebook that didn’t belong to her and which she felt by all rights did not belong in her locker.

“Damn, she whispered, hastily pulling the bag and the notebook out of the locker and dumping them on the ground. Her face fell as she unfolded her prize gift and held it up. She had known it was to be in the high nineties today; she had only brought the sweater to show off to her friends. Now it had a big stain over the heart area. It was dark enough to be a bloodstain. Suddenly she wished she had never got on that plane in Zurich.

“Excuse me, I think these are mine,” somebody said from below her. There was a guy crouched down at her feet, picking up the notebook and lunch bag. When he had his things in hand, he glanced up, clearing his throat. “Are we sharing the same locker?”

Jessica let her sweater down and sighed. “You mean you don’t even get your own locker in this school? What kind of place is this? I had my own locker in kindergarten.”

The guy stood, frowning as he noticed the juice dripping from his bag. “I guess it does take some getting used to. But I don’t think I’ll be getting in your way much. I only keep my books in my locker.

“And your lunch.”

The fellow noticed her sweater and did a quick double take, from it to his bag. “Oh no, did my grape juice leak on your sweater?”

“Somebody’s grape juice did.”

He grimaced. “I’m sorry. I really am. Do you think the stain will come out?”

“I’ll probably have to cut it out.”

“That’s terrible.” He reached a hand into the bag. “it’s all my fault. Boy, can I make it up to you? Could I buy you a new one?”

“Not around here.”

“Well how much did it cost? I could pay you for it at least.”

“Two hundred Swiss francs.”

“How much is that?”

“I don’t know.” Jessica leaned an elbow on the wall of lockers, rested her head in her hand, blood pounding behind her temples. What a lousy way to start the day, the whole school year for that matter. “I can’t remember.”

The guy stood staring at her for a moment. “I really am sorry,” he repeated.

Jessica closed her eyes briefly, taking a deep breath, getting a hold of herself. She was making a mountain out of a molehill. Fatigue often made her overreact. Chances  were the dry cleaners could get the stain out. And if they didn’t, they didn’t. Her bedroom closet was overflowing with clothes. When she thought about it, she realised she had little right to blame this guy. After all, she was invading his territory. He had probably had this locker since he was a freshman.

She straightened up, letting the sweater dangle by her side, out of the way. “Don’t worry about it,” she said. “I have another one at home just like it.” She offered him her hand, lightening her tone. “My name’s Jessica Hart. I’m a Mesa High refugee.”

The guy shook her hand. “I’m Michael Olson.”

“Pleased to meet you, Michael.” She wondered if this were their first meeting. She could have sworn she seen him before. “Are you a senior?”

“Yeah.”

“So am I.”

“I thought so. Did you just get here? I didn’t see you earlier this week?”

“Yeah, my family’s vacation ran a few days too long.”

Michael nodded looking her straight in the face as he did, Jessica realised that, besides being familiar he was rather attractive. He had thick black hair and eyebrows, pleasant friendly features. Yet it was his eyes that sparked her interest. There was an extraordinary alertness and intelligence in them, a sharpness she had never seen before in anyone her age. But perhaps she was imagining it. For all she knew, he could be the local druggie, high on something.

But he seems nice enough.

“I bet you were in Switzerland,” he said.

She laughed. “How did you guess?”

“Your accent.” He glanced about. “I suppose this place looks old to you after Mesa.”

She nodded. “And crowded. And hot. We had air conditioning.”

“Some of our rooms are cooled. The gym is. We take our basketball very seriously here at Tabb.”

Jessica brightened. “Oh, now I know who you are! You’re on the basketball team. I saw you playing last year. You killed us, didn’t you?”

Michael shrugged. “It was close most of the way.”

“Yeah right all through warm-up.”

“Well, you guys were never really nice to our football team. What did we lose to you, the last nine in a row?”

“The last ten. And you know what’s worse? Practically our whole varsity team was transferred to Sanders High.”

“I guess we couldn’t expect to get beauty and brawn both.”

Did he just compliment me? It sounded like a compliment.

Jessica didn’t take comments well. To simply accept them, she felt, was to acknowledge that her looks were important to her, and she always thought that was the same as saying to the world she was superficial. On the other hand she did love to be complimented. She was nuts, she knew it.

She laughed again. “Before the football season’s over I know you’re going to think Tabb got the raw end of the deal.”

“I hope not,” he muttered lowering his head, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, and wiping up the few remaining drops of juice from the locker. “I’m going to pay you for that sweater no matter what you say. What’s a Swiss franc in U.S money these days?”

“One and a half pennies. Forget about it really. I have parents who can’t spend enough on their darling daughter.”

“It must be nice. Did you enjoy Switzerland?”

“Yeah. And the Greek islands. It was neat floating on the raft in the Mediterranean. The Vatican was far out, too.”

He nodded repeating himself. “It must be nice.” Then he began to back up. “Well, I have to go. I hope you like Tabb. I’m sure you will. If you need help finding your way around, just let me know.”

“Thanks Michael. See you later.”

“Sure.”

Michael was gone no more than ten seconds when Sara Cantrell appeared. It had been Sara who had been kind enough to pick Jessica and her parents up at the airport at three in the morning. Naturally Sara had grumbled about it, but that was to be expected, and wasn’t to be taken seriously. The two of them went back to the beginnings of time; they had taught each other to talk. Or rather, Jessica had learned to talk and Sara had learned to make astute observations. Sara had a biting wit and was usually hungry for potential victims. Tabb High did not yet know what it had inherited. It would know soon, though.

“Hello, Jessie can’t believe you dragged yourself in today. God, you look wasted. You should go home and put your dace back under a pillow.”

Jessica yawned. “I didn’t’ even go to bed. I was too busy unpacking. What are you doing here? When you dropped us off at home, you said you were taking the day off.”

“I was until I remembered my mum wasn’t working today. She would just drive me nuts. Hey, do you know who that guy you were talking to is?”

“Michael Olson.”

“Yeah. I hear he’s the smartest guy in the school. Better get on good terms with him. You’re taking chemistry, and I hear our young Olson wrote the lab manual they use here

“Are you serious? I thought he looked clever.” Then she winced. “Did you really sign me up for chemistry?”

“You told me to.”

“My dad told you to. What do I need chemistry for?”

“So you can get into Stanford and find a smart young man to marry who’ll give you smart little kids to play with in a big stupid house.”

Jessica groaned. “I didn’t know that’s why I was talking chemistry.”

Sara pointed to the sweater. “Did your ears explode while going up in the plane or what? That looks like a bloodstain.”

“I didn’t get it on the trip. It’s something old. I got it at Penney’s.”

Sara grabbed the tag. “Is Penney’s charging us in francs these days?”

Jessica pulled the sweater away and shut it in the locker. “Don’t hassle me alright? I’m still getting acclimatised.” She wiped at the grape juice on her hands. “Last night you said we shared first period. What class is it? I’ve lost my schedule already.”

Sara wrinkled her nose. She could do a lot with her nose. She had the same control over it that most people had over their mouths.  This did not mean, however, that it was an unusually large nose. Sara was cute. By her own estimation- and Sara could be as ruthless on herself as she was on everybody else- she rated an eight on a scale of one to fourteen. In other words, she was slightly above average. She had rust coloured hair, cut straight above her shoulders, hazel eyes, and a slightly orange tan that somehow got deeper in the winter. Because she frequently wore orange tops and trousers to compliment her colouring, Jessica told her she looked like Hallowe’en.

“Political science,” Sara said. “And we’ve got this really liberal ex-vet for a teacher. He was in Vietnam and slaughtered little babies, and now he wants us selling the communists hydrogen bombs so he can have a clear conscience.”

“He sounds interesting.” Jessica didn’t believe a word of it. “Come on, let’s go there before the bell rings. I’m already four days late.”

 

The teacher’s name was Mr Bark, and Sara hadn’t been totally off base in her analysis. The first thing the man did when they were all seated was dim the lights and put on a video of a nuclear attack. The footage was from the big TV movie The Day After. They watched a solid ten minutes of bombs exploding, forests burning, and people vaporising. When the lights were turned on Jessica discovered she had a headache.  World War Three always depressed her. Plus she wasn’t wearing her glasses as she was supposed to; watching the show had strained her eyes. Sitting on her right, Sara had put her head down and nodded off. Jessica poked her lightly, without effect. Sara continued to snore softly.

“I hope my purpose in showing this tape is clear,” Mr Bark began, leaning his butt on the edge of his desk. “We can talk on and on about how incredibly destructive nuclear weapons are, but I think what we have just seen creates an image of horror that will stay with us a long time, and will remind us that above all else we can’t allow the political tensions of the wold to reach the point where pushing the button becomes a viable alternative.”

If Sara hadn’t been lying about his being a vet, then Mr Bark hid it well. He didn’t look like someone who had seen battle. In fact, he looked remarkably like a plump, balding middle aged man who had taught high school political science all his life. He had frumpy grey slacks, black rimmed glasses, and an itch on his inner left thigh that he obviously couldn’t wait to scratch.

Jessica poked her friend again. Sara turned her head in the other direction and made a low snorting sound.

“One Trident submarine,” Mr Bark continued, raising one finger in the air for emphasis, striding down the centre of the class, “has the capacity to destroy two hundred Soviet cities. Think about it. And think about what would happen if the captain of a Trident sub should go off half-cocked and decide to make a place in history for himself, or put an end to all history.  Now I know most of you believe that the fail safe device the president has near him at all time controls-“

We should have had someone else pick us up at the airport.

Mr Bark paused in midstride suddenly realising he didn’t have Sara’s full attention. Impatience creased his wide fleshy forehead. He moved to where he stood above her.

“She had a late night” Jessica said.

Mr Bark frowned. “You’re the new girl? Jessica Hart?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you’re a friend of Sara’s?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Would you wake her please?”

“I’ll try” Jessica leaned close to Sara’s head, hearing scattered giggles from the rest of the class. Putting her hand on the back of Sara’s neck, she whispered in her ear, “You are making fools of both of us. If you don’t wake up this second, I am going to pinch you.”

Sara wasn’t listening. Jessica pinched her. Sara sat up with a bolt. “Holy Moses” she gasped. Then she saw the stares, the smirks. Unfazed, she calmly leaned back in her chair and picked up her pen as if to take notes, saying, “Could you please repeat the question Mr Bark?”

“I didn’t ask a question Sara.”

Sara stifled a yawn. “Good.”

“But I’ll ask one now. Were you awake though any of the videotape?”

“I got the highlights.”

“I’m glad. Tell me what was your gut reaction when you saw the bombs explode?”

Sara smiled slowly. “I thought it was neat.”

Mr Bark shook his head. “You might think you are funny, but I can assure you that you are-“

“No, no,” Sara interrupted. “I’m telling you exactly how I felt. The whole time I was watching it, before I nodded off, I was thinking, Wow.”

Mr Bark grinned in spite of himself. “Granted, Sara the visual effects were outstanding. But didn’t the wholesale destruction of our civilisation upset you?”

“No.”

“Come on be serious. I had girls crying when I showed this tape fifth period yesterday.”

“Mr Bark,” Sara replied with a straight face, “when I was watching that part where the bomb exploded outside the university, I honestly thought to myself, “Why those lucky kids. They won’t have to go to school anymore.”

The class burst out laughing. Mr Bark finally gave up. He tried to dig up more heartfelt testimonials from the less bizarre minded, and while he did so she noticed a handsome blonde fellow sitting in the corner. She had to fight not to stare. What kind of place was this Tabb? First there was Clair Hilrey, who belonged in Playboy, and now there was this hunk. It was a wonder that they couldn’t put together a halfway decent football team with all these great genes floating around. She poked Sara again.

“Who’s that in the corner?”

“The football quarterback,” Sara whispered back.

“What’s his name?”

“He hasn’t got one. But his jersey number is sixteen.”

“Tell me d****t.”

“William Skater, but I call him Bill. Pretty pretty, huh?”

“Amazing. Do you know if he has a girlfriend?”

“I’ve seen him hanging out with this cheerleader called Clair.

“God, I hate this school.”

“Miss Hart” Mr Bark called.

“Yes sir?”

He wanted to know about her feelings on radiation, and of course, she told him she though it was just awful stuff. When the class was over, Jessica did her best to catch Bill’s eye, but he wasn’t looking.

I’ve been here less than two hours. I can’t be getting a crush on someone already.

She ditched Sara and trailed Bill halfway across campus. He had a great a*s.

The following period was the dread chemistry, and the teacher’s lecture on molecular reactions proved far harder to absorb than Mr Bark’s on atomic explosions. This was definitely one class she wouldn’t be able to BS her way through.

Towards the middle of the period, they started on their first lab of the year. Jessica ended up with a quiet Hispanic girl named Maria Gonzales for a partner. They hardly had a chance to talk, but she struck Jessica as the serious type. Jessica just hoped she was smart and took excellent notes. She wondered if Michael Olson really was a wizard at science. It would be asking too much, she supposed, to hope William Skater was.

Maybe Bill will be in another one of my classes.

Break came next. Before leaving for school that morning, Jessica had spoken to another friend of hers, Polly McCoy- Alice’s older sister- filling her in on everything that had happened on her vacation. She had known Polly almost as long as she had Sara, although she was not nearly so close to Polly. A lot of their friendship was founded on simple geography; since they were kids they had lived only a few hundred yards apart; it was hard not to be friends with someone your own age who lived so close.

Polly had what at best could at best be described as a nervous disposition. It showed particularly when she was around Sara, who enjoyed picking on Polly. Keeping the two girls apart was difficult, however, because none of them really had any other close friends, and they usually ended up going to movies, the beach, or wherever together. Three bored girls each looking for one exciting guy.

When Polly and Alice’s parents died they left the girls a large construction company. It was at present managed by a board of directors, but both girls were potential bosses and millionaires. They lived in a big house with a partially senile aunt who was their legal guardian. They lived as they wanted. Only the McCoy sisters could think of throwing a party to introduce two schools to each other.

But it turned out Alice had not told Polly about the party.

“She’s going to do what?” Polly asked as they waited in line at the soda machines. Polly had already got hold of a candy bar. She ate a lot of sweets these days, and it showed, especially in her face. It was a pity. When thin, Polly was a doll.

“She’s going to invite thirty of our own people and team them up with thirty of Tabb’s people,” Jessica said casting an eye towards the front of the line. Apparently the machines here took kicks as well as quarters. The guy was busting a toe for a Coca-Cola Classic.

“She never told me.”

“Maybe she just thought it up.”

“I don’t care. We are not having it. They’d just rip up the whole house.”

“No they wouldn’t.” The guy kicked the machine one more final time then stalked off. He was from Mesa. “But let’s not invite that guy. Hey is there another place we can get something to drink?”

“There’s the mall. It’s less than five minutes away in the car. But I don’t want to go there now. And I don’t want a party at my house.”

Jessica decided she will let Sara and Alice argue with Polly. She had already made up her mind that they had to have the party if only to invite Mr Football Quarterback. “All right, all right, we’ll have it in my bedroom. What did you do while I was gone?’

“Nothing.” Polly took a bite of her candy, her bright green eyes spanning the jammed courtyard. Then she grinned. “I take that back. I did do something funny. They were running a contest on the radio to see who could send in the best album cover

for a few heavy-metal band. I can’t even remember the group- it was Hell and Steel something. Anyway, I sent in one of Alice’s paintings. She won!”

“What did she win?”

“A free trip to one of their New York shows and a backstage pass. The disc jockey said the group is seriously considering using her artwork.

“Is Alice going to go?”

“No. You know she hates loud music.”

“Wait a second. One of Alice’s paintings on the album cover of a heavy-metal band? Since when does she pain anything that doesn’t have flowers and clouds in it?”

Polly shrugged. “It’s none of my business.”

“What’s none of your business?”

“What Clark has her drawing.”

“Her boyfriend has her drawing whips and demons? Boy, I hope he hasn’t seduced her.”

Polly did not appreciate the remark. She was fanatically protective of her younger sister. “He’s not her boyfriend. He’s just someone who comes over and eats our food.”

“What does he look like?”

“Not bad, pretty good.”

“You wouldn’t want to give me too many details, would you?’

Polly smiled. Unlike her sister, her hair was dark, almost black, with red highlights. Indeed, in almost every respect, their looks differed. Alice was a waif. Polly was a peasant. She had big breasts and a bigger butt. “He’s got great hands,” she said.

“How do you know?”

“I’m not saying anything.”

“For someone who doesn’t like to pry into Alice’s business, you’ve said a lot.” The subject was beginning to bore Jessica. She noticed a booth near the centre of campus and pointed it out. “What can we sign up for over there?”

Now Polly was bored. “Student office. They’ve lengthened lunch today so all those who want to play politics can tell us why we should vote for them. You’re not thinking of running for anything are you?”

Jessica had a brilliant idea. “No, but Sara is.”

“Sara? She doesn’t like getting involved in choosing what to wear in the morning.”

“You say the candidates are supposed to speak at lunch today?”

“In the gym, yeah. It’s the only cool building on campus.”

“Let’s sign her up.”

“We can’t. You have to sign up in person.”

“Then you be Sara for a few minutes.”

“We’ll never get her out on the floor to speak.”

“We’ll worry about that later.”

“She’ll be furious,” Polly paused, thought about that a moment. “All right, I’ll be Sara. What should we have her run for?”

“What else? Student body president.”

 

Author's Note

I haven't finished this I will fix it up tomorrow morning.

Reviews

[TM]

It's a bit long and if you're going to be switching POV a lot, I suggest you do this book in 3rd person. It'll stop confusion

[Not here]

this chapter was a bit long, but i really liked all of the descriptions and the storyline in it :) ill try to keep reading if i get time

[KittyKatgirl]

Thank you Dante I'll try to make them shorter. And I love your profile picture by the way the koala is so cute :)

[Not here]

i agree very much :) fav animal

[KittyKatgirl]

Haha I love animals too much to have a favourite but I love koalas especially because they're Australian :)

[Not here]

yes yes yes :)