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Chapter Text

The smell of the cafeteria wafted through the door of third period English. Regina George sat squarely at the center of the room. She brushed her long blonde hair out of her face with a manicured hand. The teacher, Mr. Gray, droned on and on about the reading assignment that week. Regina wasn’t listening, instead, she glanced at the clock above the metal door. Five more minutes until she could sit with her friends. The scent of pizza made it to her nose, and she felt her stomach pang. The anticipation was deathly as she watched the minute hand creep toward 12:30. The bell rang out and the entire class shot up and made way to the door.

“Remember your essay on Romeo and Juliet is due next week,” Mr. Gray called out to the herd of teenagers as they swiftly left the classroom.

Regina rolled her eyes at that, some fucking nerd would do it for her anyway. Hell, those losers would probably beg to do her homework. She flips her hair as she walks down the halls, her designer perfume wafting from her neck. It smelled of roses and honey, her signature scent. Her heels clacked as she walked gracefully toward the cafeteria.

“Hey girl!” A voice called out.

She didn’t even turn her head, she knew it was her confidant Gretchen. The girl quickly walked to match Regina’s stride. Her chestnut curls bounced as she sped up.

“Love the outfit, so cute,” Gretchen continued, gesturing up and down with her hands.

“I know right?” Regina replied with a smile. Of course her outfit was cute, she’s Regina fucking George.

“So perfect,” a blank voice joined, it was Karen with her head up in the clouds.

“Jesus. Karen you fucking scared me, don’t do that,” Regina said through gritted teeth, her hand on her chest.

“Sorry,” the blonde girl muttered in response.

Regina groaned and rolled her eyes yet again, god her friends were so stupid, att least they were kind of pretty. Her white skirt danced around her legs as she walked. She had been on a strict diet all summer and was reaping the benefits. Her hair kept getting caught in her giant gold hoop earrings, but as they say beauty is pain and she had to have a statement piece. The trio passed by a group of skaters lounging by the double doors leading into the cafeteria, and turned their noses up in disgust. God, how could people willingly dress like that, Regina thought, like why can I see your boxers.

"They probably bought those secondhand," Gretchen said, the last word dripping with disgust.

"Ew, definitely," Regina agreed.

The trio strutted into the cafeteria toward their table. The Plastics had stuck their claim on it the year prior and everyone in North Shore High knew it was their territory. The sat down and scanned the room. The art freaks and horny band kids were up to the usual debauchery. That freak lesbian Janis Ian and her weird friend were at their table in the back. Everyone was in their proper place, beautiful homeostasis. The girls periodically checked their nails and made comments about those unfortunate enough to walk by their table.

"What is she wearing?" Gretchen laughed as a small girl in a flannel walked by. 

Regina was slowly getting bored of the mind-numbing conversation and nonchalantly said, "whatever, I'm getting cheese fries," announced as she stood up from her seat. 

She made her way the counter, completely avoiding the line. People would move out of the way for her if she stood it in anyway. These dumbasses at least knew how to treat their Queen Bee.

An old gray van raced down a quiet suburban road. On the side, it bore the devil’s mark in the eyes of any Homeowners Association or concerned mother. Löded Diper. The black spray-painted letters was the handiwork of the driver, Rodrick Heffley. The car stereo blasted a demo from Löded Diper's latest recording session entitled, Fuck the Fucking Government. Rodrick drummed his hands on the steering wheel as the lead singer, Bill, screamed out lyrics about destroying the system and setting authority ablaze. The pulsing bass shook the van more than Rodrick's reckless driving did. He swerved onto the main road, barely missing the curb, and barreled to Crossland High School. He whipped into the parking lot and screeched to a stop. He slung his backpack over his shoulder and slipped inside. He shot a look to his watch, 12:30. Hell yeah, right in time for lunch period.

A cough echoed from behind him, "Mr. Heffley, late again I see," Principal Stevenson tutted. 

Rodrick stopped in his tracks and turned around prepping his lie.

"It's not my fault, my mom was being well you know and then the car wouldn't start," he trailed off, mumbling excuses.

"I don't want to hear it, Heffley," he sighed, "this is absolutely unacceptable, you have been late over twenty times. You know what that means."

"What does it mean again?"

"You're expelled."

"What!" Rodrick yelled, "That's bullshit!"

"Language, young man."

"I thought I was just gonna get, like, a detention or somethin'!" Rodrick snapped indignantly.

"This is the twentieth time, that means expulsion," he said in a matter of fact tone.

Rodrick tried to come up with a retort but Principal Stevenson cut him off, "I've given you enough warnings, you may finish the rest of the day but your parents will be notified."

The principal walked back toward his office, leaving Rodrick fuming in the hallway. My parents are gonna fucking kill me. Without thinking, he kicked a nearby locker, leaving a dent. He didn't even notice the pain in his foot. He stormed to the cafeteria and scanned the room for his bandmates. They were laughing at something Drew, their rhythm guitarist, had said. Their greasy hair and old band shirts were easy to spot. Rodrick made his way over to them and threw his backpack on the ground.

Drew looked up at the sound of the thud, "What's up man?"

"Nothin' much, got expelled," he responded in a monotone.

"Shit dude for real?"

"Yeah."

"Damn bro."

Rodrick slumped into his seat, defeated.

"This is so stupid, like, seriously?" Rodrick said exasperated. 

"I'm just surprised it took one of us this long," Chris quipped.

"Shut up," he replied, but it lacked heat. God damnit, I am never gonna hear the fucking end of it. He could practically see the smug look on his little brother's face while he got grounded for a million years. 

"Do you still think you're gonna be allowed to play?" Drew asked.

Rodrick's head fell into his hands, "I don't fucking know dude, probably not." He sighed and ran a hand through his tangled hair. Does he seriously only care about the fucking band and not the fact that I'm gonna be skinned alive when I get home? 

"Damn, that sucks dude."

"Yeah. It does."

The conversation was breaching into an awkward silence when the bell granted them salvation.

Drew slung on his backpack, "I guess I'll see you around man?"

"Yeah, I guess."

Rodrick slowly got up from his seat, unwilling to move. Every second that ticked by was getting closer to the worst beating of his life. Begrudgingly, he made his way to his locker to grab his algebra book. He was taking it for the third time. As he approached the sad, gray wall of lockers he heard snickering around his own. Shit.

One member of the crowd noticed Rodrick approaching in his peripheral and motioned to the rest of the students to disperse. 

Perfect, how could this day get any better. Rodrick groaned and forced himself to go up to the locker to see what was written on it this time. Maybe they've gotten more creative than just slurs. 

Rodrick stood in-front of his locker where ‘fag’ was scrawled. Nope, same old same old. The insult did little to his demeanor, he had been hearing it since he started painting his nails and doing his eyeliner. These uncultured freaks couldn’t see what ‘cool’ looked like if it was written on the back of their eyelids.

Chapter Text

Regina’s pink convertible pulled in front of her humble home, after all it is only three floors. It was the rare occasion that her friends weren’t following her every move. Thank god, I thought I’d never get rid of them. She walked up to her door and smoothed out her skirt. 

“Hey honey!” Her mom called out to her. What does that cow want now? 

“What?” she yelled, annoyed. 

“Oh, nothing sweetie just saying hi to my favorite daughter.” 

She watched her mom walk down the stairs. Her mom held their dog, Cleo, who was trying in vain to bite down on her hair. 

"Yeah, and?"

Her mother kept a placid grin on her face, "Want a snack or somethin', girl?"

"No."

"Alright then!" she said cheerily, "well, I'm here if you need anythin'."

Mrs. George made her way back up with Cleo and Regina rolled her eyes for the umpteenth time that day. God why is everyone so incompetent? Is there, like, a knowledge drought or something?  She made her way up to her room, the master bedroom. It's completely decked out in different shades of pink. Her king-sized bed had a plush tiger print comforter, which she flopped onto. Regina stared up at her pale pink ceiling, bored out of her mind, when her phone rang. Regina glanced at the caller ID, and groaned before picking up.

"Hey Gretch, what's up?" she asked in a cheerful tone.

"Wanna go to the mall? I'm so bored."

"Sure why not, be there in fifteen," she added with a smile before hanging up.

Regina stretched her arms in the air as she lifted from her cozy bed. She made her way over to the full-length mirror and began inspecting her appearance. 

"Ew, my shoulders are huge. Like a fucking man."

She continued down her figure, making sporadic comments such as, her armpit and leg hair growing back when she literally shaved it, like, that morning. I need to get a wax again. Until, she came across her worst enemy, her stomach. She hated how it folded into itself when she sat down. She gave it a small squeeze, and was disgusted when it squished. She had gotten an idea for an amazing diet where you chew gum whenever you're hungry because it tricks your brain into thinking you're eating. It was so smart she wondered why she didn't think of it first. It was only when he phone started ringing again that she figured she should probably start making her way to pick up Gretchen and Karen.

“What the hell were you thinking!” 

Rodrick’s father had been screaming at him for the past half an hour. Damn, how is his voice not dead? Make a note to ask Dad to coach Bill on screaming. 

“I dunno,” Rodrick meekly replied. 

“Of course that’s your response! You never know do you? You don’t think Rodrick!”

"But I didn't do it on purpose." Rodrick cast his eyes down for just a second when a hard slap hit him across the face. His ear's started to ring and his cheek began to sting.

"Like hell you didn't!" His father fumed, "And look at me when I'm talking to you!"

"Sorry," he replied pitifully. He looked up to see his father's face red and twisted in anger and felt a sharp pain on the other side of his face. His father had decided that the redness on his face should be even.

"How dare you embarrass our family like that? You know that people talk to each other right? Outside the same three people every day. Do you have any idea how hard your mother and I work to keep our family from being the laughingstock of the neighborhood?"

His father's words cut him, but he had heard this speech before. This same spiel was given to him every few days and it seemed to be nearing its end.

"You know what?" Mr. Heffley sighed, "This is a new low for you young man, I'm gonna have to talk to your mother about what we are going to do about you."

'Do with him'? What the hell is that supposed to mean? "What?"

His father had already left the room, leaving Rodrick to sit in anxiety about what his father meant.

- - -

Rodrick had spent the last few hours in his room, sitting in silence. His walls are covered with posters from local shows and his idols. Every possible bit of joy had been taken away from him, he couldn't drum out his frustration or listen to music. He could here his parent's voices downstairs, but couldn't make them out. He was lying down on his bed drumming an imaginary beat on his chest. He wished he could've at least kept his phone so that he could talk to his friends.

"Rodrick, get down here hon," his mother called from downstairs.

"Comin'," 

Rodrick made his descent to his father's study where his parents were waiting for him. The air was thick and heavy with fear.

"Your mother and I have come to a decision."

"Yeah, what is it?" Rodrick stuttered slightly, his nerves getting the better of him.

His mother joined the conversation, "You're going to be living with Aunt Margaret for the rest of the school year. You will attend the local high school and you will graduate."  

"There's no way," Rodrick blanched.

Aunt Margaret meant living with his cousin, Janis Ian. Fuck that. He and Janis had once been good friends, causing trouble wherever they went. One summer, right before high school, she completely cut him off for seemingly no reason. There's no way in hell I'm living with that bitch for an entire semester and a half.

"Yes way," His mother responded curtly.

"It's that or military school, young man. So make up your mind," His father added.

These crazy people are going to ship me off to military school? Images flashed in Rodrick's mind of drills and more physical abuse, and the thought of giving up on his music, his life, forever. Hell no.

"Fine, I'll live with Aunt Margaret," he conceded.

Chapter Text

Regina hadn’t even opened Romeo and Juliet since the essay was assigned the day before. She never planned on actually doing any work, so she was spending her free period in the library with Gretchen and Karen. They were sat at a table in the back when Regina saw something that disgusted her.

“God, Karen what the fuck are you wearing.”

“What?”

“Are those jeans?”

“Yeah?”

“You know the rules, Karen, you can’t sit with us,” Regina snapped.

”It’s Friday, though,” Karen answered blankly.

”No you idiot, it’s Tuesday."

"Oh."

Regina groaned, God that stupid bitch. She noticed Karen had started to stare at a wall, so Regina snapped her fingers in front of her face.

"Why are you still here? Go," she waved her away.

Karen clenched her fist slightly, but followed the order. Gretchen nudged her softly, so she turned to face her.

"What?"

"Look by the door, but, like, subtle."

Regina ever so slightly turned her head and spared a glance to the door where none other than Aaron Samuels stood. He was talking to some girl that was obviously flirting with him. Whore. 

"God, he's such a slut," she said, turning back toward Gretchen.

"I know right? How is he already talking to other girls? Who does he think he is?"

"He's a total dick."

"One minute he loves me, and the next he's talking to some skank? He's such a loser"

"I have no idea why Aaron thought he could break up with you, you're literally too good for him."

"Duh, I know that, but he's hot."

"Girl, you're hotter."

"I know that, Gretchen, god do you think I'm stupid?"

"No," Gretchen responded quickly. She took a breath and continued, "We're seniors now, you can get whoever you want."

"You know what I want, Gretch, and you know I always get what I want."

They sat in silence for a moment before Gretchen lit up. She slyly turned toward Regina and in a conspiratorial tone said, "I have an idea."

"What, it better be good."

"What if you made him jealous?"

"How?"

"Pretend you've already moved on, guys totally hate that, he'll realize just how bad he wants you and how much of a mistake it was to dump you."

Regina paused, mulling it over, "You know, I think for once you might actually have an okay idea."

Gretchen beamed, and Regina continued, “So, like, what, I just pick some guy?”

“No, girl it has to be like someone he wouldn’t expect. If you go for another hottie, then he’ll know you are trying to make him jealous, he’s gotta believe it.”

“Fuck.”

———

At the end of the school day, Regina was laying on her plush bed, listening to The Strokes. She looked up at her poster of the band that she had gotten at their show. She was humming along to Soma when she got a glimpse of herself in the mirror.

She walked over and began inspecting. Ew, my shoulders are so wide. Ugh, I can see the fat on my thighs. She turned to examine her side profile, Oh my god, my stomach is huge. I look fucking pregnant. What the hell is going on, I literally looked so good earlier. 

She couldn’t figure it out, the gum diet had been working so well. She still had to find someone to rebound with to make Aaron jealous. He was going to pay for daring to break up with her.

The drive to Aunt Margaret’s was brutal. At least, his mother was driving. If it was his father, Rodrick was afraid he wouldn't live to see his new home. It was an awkward silence, a test to see who would break first. When they were nearing their destination, his mother caved.

"I know you aren't happy about this, but it's for the best Rodrick. You need to graduate. It's only September so you'll have time to catch up and maybe make some new friends."

"Yeah, yeah."

"You will not be late once, do you understand me?"

"Yes, mom."

"Good, because you move one toe out of line and it's off to military school."

Rodrick shuddered, "Understood".

The pulled into a gravel driveway, and made their way to the front door. Mrs. Heffley rang the doorbell and the door flew open revealing Aunt Margaret. She was a short women with a blonde bob. 

“Hey, guys!” 

“Hi, Aunt Margaret.”

“So this is our troublemaker, huh?”

Mrs. Heffley chimed in, “Sure is.”

“I’ll help unload the car,” Margaret said as she made her way toward the van.

Together, the three unloaded box after box of Rodrick’s belongings and brought them into the house. It was a quaint single story building with plants everywhere. 

“We can put him in the studio.”

“Studio?”

”Yes, it’s where Janis hangs up her art.”

“I thought that was where you made art.”

Margaret continued, “It was, but eventually she was working on so many that we made the shed her ‘creative space’ and the old studio is more if a gallery now.”

"That's nice," Mrs. Heffley chimed. Rodrick's face showed his disdain for the situation which led to his mother elbowing him, and whispered through gritted teeth, "Say something."

"Cool."

"Thank you, Rodrick," his Aunt said with a smile.

“No problem.”

———

After a few hours the trio had finished the makeshift bedroom. Margaret had pulled out an old cot and a few blankets. 

“It’s not much, but it’s what we got,” she joked. 

“It’s alright.”

His mother side-eyed him and hissed, “Say thank you.”

“Thank you, Aunt Margaret.”

“Oh, no problem hon’.”

Rodrick looked around at what would be his room for the next 8 months. The walls were covered by paintings in all manner of style. There were abstract, expressionist, and eventually some realism pieces. These actually aren’t so bad. There’s a lot of different things about them.

Margaret admired her daughter’s work and said, “She’s really talented. I hear you’re also passionate about the arts. You’re a musician right?”

Rodrick hadn’t heard himself be described that way. His parents called it ‘a waste of time’ and ‘a nuisance’. He started to smile, but could see his mother roll her eyes, so he caught himself.

“Yeah, i guess.”

“What instrument do you play again?”

“Drums.”

“Ooh, that’s fun!”

“Thanks.”

 His mom cleared her throat and drew the attention back to her.

“Well, I’ll be on my way now. Remember what I told you young man, don’t test me.”

“Yes ma’am.”

They said their goodbyes and watched as the car drove out of sight. Rodrick let out a breath, it felt like a weight had been lifted off his back.

His aunt took notice and asked, “You okay, hon? I know this has been a rough day for you.”

She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and gave him a reassuring squeeze. Rodrick stiffened at the touch. 

She continued, “Getting expelled isn’t a good thing at all, it’s really harsh, but it’ll get better. I promise.”

“If you say so,” he said, not believing her. 

“I do.”

“Um, can I start unboxing stuff?”

“Oh sure, want help?”

“No thanks.”

“Alright, honey, just let me know.”

Rodrick began putting up his posters when the he heard front door swung open. Who the hell? There were footsteps stomping down the hall that stopped outside the room, which was promptly slammed open. There, stood Janis, she looked different from when he had last seen her. Her once blonde hair was dyed pitch black and cut short. She had outlined her eyes with black eyeliner. Her face fell as soon as she registered who was in her gallery.

“What the hell are you doing here?” She asked, annoyed. 

“Your mom didn’t tell you?”

“What, that a squatter is living in my gallery?”

“I’ll be living here for the rest of the school year.”

“What!” She left the room and continued talking to herself, “No! Absolutely not!” She called out, “Mom! This is not happening right?”

God, what a bitch. Rodrick sighed, this is gonna be my life for the next year? I didn’t think getting expelled could get worse. 

Chapter Text

Regina had spent thirty minutes looking for the perfect outfit. Having so many clothes is so annoying, I can’t find anything. She finally landed on an acceptable fit. It was a low cut pink blouse with a black mini skirt. She paired it with her favorite black heels and perfected her makeup. She descended the spiral staircase, and walked toward her car. She drove to pick up Karen and Gretchen. They were similarly wearing pink, as it was Wednesday, and they always wore pink that day.

She drove up to her parking spot in the senior lot. Everyone knew that only she could park there. Once during junior year, an unfortunate girl parked in Regina's spot. Needless to say, she had to transfer schools. The Plastics made it up the stairs when they heard shouting behind them.

"You are not walking in with me!"

"I wasn't gonna!"

"Good!"

Karen was the first to turn and said, "Who's that with the dyke freak?"

Regina turned around at that. She'd never miss a chance to see Janis get yelled at, but when she turned she saw it was Janis doing the yelling. She saw the alternative girl storm away from a tall boy. He had shaggy black hair and was wearing a old ratty shirt. How does he know Janis? Who is he? The new boy started to make his way up towards the door, and they made eye contact.

"Regina!" Gretchen hissed. 

"What?" she whipped around.

"What are you doing?"

The new boy walked passed her, accidentally brushing her arm.

"I was trying to see who Janis was screeching at."

"Uh huh. This is so not like you."

"What are you talking about?"This fucking bitch. "What are you trying to say Gretchen?"

"Nothing, Regina, I swear."

"Yeah, good," she paused then continued, "who even was that anyway?"

"I dunno," said Karen.

Regina responded, "You don't know anything Karen. Can you tell me what we are talking about?"

Karen stared at Regina, cogs turning in her head, it was long enough to let Regina confirm her suspicion.

"Exactly."

---

Regina was sitting in her English class when the door slowly opened. It was the boy. He looked confused, and then spoke, "Is this Mr. Gray's English class?"

"Yes, it is young man, come on in. Mr. Heffley I presume?"

"Yeah."

The shaggy-haired boy made his way inside, he was lanky and had deep eyebags. He carried a blue backpack over one shoulder. He spoke again, "So, uh, where do I sit?"

"Oh yes, why not next to Ms. George?"

He shrugged, "Alright"

He lumbered over and sat to the right of her. She could finally get a better look at him now that it wouldn't look weird. Heffley ran a hand through his black wavy hair. He was wearing eyeliner that was put on thick, and not very well. He’s not that bad looking. But he wears makeup so he’s probably a faggot. 

Rodrick startled awake to Janis’s alarm. It sounded like a tornado siren, relentless and earth shatteringly loud. God she’s the worst. He rubbed his hands against his temples. 

“What time even is it?” he thought out loud. 

He turned his phone on and 7:00 flashed. He couldn’t remember the last time he got up this early. Hell, he normally got up after school started. Rodrick began to close his eyes to sleep when his mother’s warning flashed in his mind, 'One toe out of line' and 'military school'. Fuck that. He made himself get up and threw on a random shirt from one of the cardboard boxes and the same pair of baggy jeans he had worn the before. School didn't start for another hour, he had never had so much time to spare.

He walked by the bathroom and saw that there was makeup all around the sink. The only thing he recognized was an eyeliner pencil. Why not? She's gonna yell at me no matter what I do. He lined his eyes in thick, black lines and smudged it out. Fuck man, I look so good. He made his way into the kitchen where Aunt Margaret was making breakfast. It smelled like heaven on Earth. She had tied on a purple apron with a floral design. At home, breakfast and most meals were a 'fend for yourself' situation; here, it was bacon, eggs, and pancakes. 

"Hey, honey!" She said cheerfully.

She turned to look at Rodrick, and her eyes landed on his eyeliner, "Oh, that's nice."

He could feel his cheeks get hot, 'That's nice'? She wasn't going to call him anything? That was new.

"Oh, uh, thanks. Is it a birthday or something?"

"What? No it's not, I just wanted to welcome you! I figured you're probably going through a lot right now."

"Oh."

"Is everything okay?"

"I don't deserve all this, Aunt Marge."

"Course you do," she said with a smile, "Of course you are going to be punished, but for now let's get you settled in. Living somewhere new is scary."

Janis came walking down the hall, her platform boots announcing her presence. Her eye makeup was done the same way, making her look unapproachable.

"Are you wearing my eyeliner?"

"No," he lied, his tone making it seem like the very idea was preposterous.

"Yeah, okay, you get away with it this time."

"Alright, Janis," her mother started, "you can be nice. You're gonna drive his to school with you."

"What? Fuck no!"

"Language, young lady."

"You're the worst."

"You will take your cousin, no fighting. You'll have to get used to his anyway. What happened, I mean you two were inseparable."

Janis groaned, "Fine, come on Rodrick."

Rodrick grabs a pancake, thanks his aunt, and follows Janis out the door. The car was at least ten years old, a white mini van. 

"I'm driving," Janis commanded.

"Fine by me."

The radio blasted Linkin Park's latest album, Meteora. Rodrick was drumming along on the dashboard, when Janis snapped, "Stop doing that, it's annoying, I'm trying to listen to the song."

"Damn, can you not be a total bitch all the time?"

"Excuse me?" she exclaimed.

"You heard me."

"Oh, so I'm a bitch now?"

"You're acting like one, for sure."

She scoffed, 'Wow, this is why I hate men."

"Oh my god, don't start," Rodrick said, starting to get annoyed.

"Wow, silencing women now? Really Rodrick, that's crazy."

"Oh my god, dude, can you not yell at me for two seconds? I don't want this either."

Janis whipped into the senior parking lot, and pulled into a space up front. They got out of the car at the same time, Rodrick was walking beside her when Janis yelled, "You are not walking in with me!"

"I wasn't gonna! I'm just trying to get in!"

"Good! Don't talk to me at school!"

She stormed off, and Rodrick began walking up towards the stairs. There were three girls standing at the top of the stairs by the main entrance. There were two blondes and a brunette with curls. The first thing he noticed was that they were all wearing pink, and his eyes fell on the blonde in front of the other two girls. Her hair was long, straight and well kept. Her eyes were a beautiful mixture of blue, green, and brown. He locked eyes with her for only a moment before, he walked by them, brushing her arm on accident. She's so pretty, definitely way out of my league.

---

Rodrick held his schedule as he found his way to his classes. He glanced down at it to see where he had to go next in this labyrinth, Alright, English with Sean Gray: Room 120. I can find that. He meandered around for about ten minutes before he spotted someone in the halls, a redheaded girl. 

"Hey, I'm new do you know where Gray's class is?"

"Uh, yeah its down the hall and to the left."

"Thanks, uh," he paused, not knowing her name.

"Cady, and you?"

"Rodrick."

"See ya around?"

"Uh, yeah I guess."

He walked in the direction Cady had pointed him in, and found himself outside room 120. He opened the door with uncertainty, and peeked inside. There's the girl from earlier.

"Is this Mr. Gray's English class?"

"Yes, it is young man, come on in. Mr. Heffley I presume?"

"Yeah."

"So, uh, where do I sit?"

"Oh yes, why not next to Ms. George?"

He shrugged, "Alright."

So, Ms. George huh?  He sat down next to her and absentmindedly ran a hand through his hair. Fuck, she's hot.