Chapter 11, Part 2: Owen's POV

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Mrs. Peskova was droning on and on about something completely over my head. The top of my notes read "Electron Configuration", but nothing was written thereafter; I never bothered to take notes if there wasn't some PowerPoint to follow along with. What was the point? I'd just write down all the wrong stuff anyway.

This was one of those classes I didn't have to worry about being too quiet in, as Peskova was a major stickler for talking- especially during one of her famous lectures.

Today, though, I was practically itching for some conversation. It was the first day of my newfound life, one of partying and just generally having a good time, not freaking out if my homework wasn't done or I was late to class. The old Owen would have probably been dozing off or at least half paying attention, but I was spending this free time plotting ways to violate my grounding while getting in the least trouble possible. I know this sounds kind of contradicting; I'm not supposed to care if I get in trouble, after all.

However, my brothers are notorious for punishments. In other words, if I completely blow off this two week grounding, I'll have an even harsher punishment hanging over my shoulders. So, I was left to leave my brothers blissfully unaware that I wasn't coming home right after school. Easier said than done. Sneaking around isn't exactly my forte- it's Penny's.

Not that I need her. She obviously doesn't need or want anyone's help with her awesome, fantastic, super-duper, mega-perfect life. I know I'm not good enough for her. Eventually, neither will Willow Academy.

The sharp clap of hands together tugged me out of my sulky reverie.

"Alright, class!" Mrs. Peskova announced brightly. "Get into groups of four or five for the lab! I hope you were all paying attention!" Several groans can be heard for those who share my talent for note taking.

I looked around the room for possible groups. Normally, this wouldn't have been a question; I'd go with my soccer friends. Sometimes Danny would join me (he knew them from his freshman year, the one and only year he'd played) and other times he would go with his gang of hooligans. Since soccer was out of the picture and the group of nerds eyeing me to my left was definitely not an option, hooligans sounded pretty good right at that moment.

I'm sure my outside demeanor was the same as always: cool, confident, not a care in the world. On the inside, I was dreading the rejection if the group happened to decide I was too jock for them. They weren't the weird misfits you avoid at all times, if you value your social reputation. This group of guys was the one that always had something to laugh about, coming to class with seconds to spare, and eyes bloodshot. They were our prestigious schools' version of common high school potheads.

I walked up to where they were gathered- in the back of the room, predictably.

"Hey, Danny!" I greeted, slapping him on the back. Even if I had quit soccer, there was still jock written all over me.

"Owen?" his voice held so much surprise that I actually considered making up some excuse, turning back around and joining the nerd herd. Was I really that bad of a best friend that he was surprised to see me anywhere near his group of friends?

He knew I'd quit soccer because the news had spread through the school like wildfire. I tried to give him subtle hints, gesturing with my eyes, chin, hands- anything conspicuous- toward the table full of soccer players, whose eyes were all plastered to the side of my hand. Unfortunately, Danny hadn't always been the brightest crayon in the box.

"Can I work with you guys?" I asked, deciding not to beat around the bush. The more I stood there and waggled my eyebrows, the more of an idiot I would seem.

Though taken aback, Danny instantly agreed. "Sure, dude! Though I gotta tell you I don't have a clue about what we're doing. When it comes to this class, I don't know shit!"

I chuckled, casually leaning against the wall. "Right there with ya, bro. I have no fucking idea." I grinned, eyeing the rest of the group. They looked back at me, surprised I wasn't giving them a step-by-step summary of the lab we were supposed to be doing. Athletes were expected to maintain a high average in their classes; I kept mine about average, but most people didn't know that. Most of the soccer team had sure spots in next year's National Honor Society. I was more concerned with focusing on my game. Well, not anymore. I was determined to make this group of slackers my group of slackers.

"What you doing after school?" I asked, turning back to Danny. I was planning on hanging out and getting home just before my brothers, which gave me at least a solid hour of free time.

A guy in an out-of-dress-code beanie answered me. "We're all gonna hang out behind the West Courtyard. You should come," he offered, one corner of his mouth going up in some semblance of a smile.

I immediately accepted, not able to keep my face from breaking into a wide smile. This would be the first social life I'd had in weeks. As pathetic as that sounds, I was nearly ecstatic and bouncing on the tips of my toes. My life was finally taking a slow turn back uphill.

~*~

The wind ruffled the tips of my hair as I hurried across the freshly trimmed grass. I was late, and only had a little while before Ben and Dana would be headed home. Stupid Peskova had called me back down to her class after my second to last period of the day. Since I didn't have soccer, I was gonna get a head start on Ben's stupid research paper. Instead, I got to sit in front of her desk while she lectured me (loud enough for her senior Biology class to hear) about how my performance in her class was severely lacking, and she wasn't having that! I swear my ears were redder than her lipstick by the time I escaped her clutches.

Danny, the group from Chemistry, and a few other guys were sprawled out under a large Oak tree, right against the border of our campus. Frequent bursts of laughter could be heard, and some Bob Marley song was being blared through a cheap boom box.

I went straight towards Danny, uncertain about my new choice in friends. Were these some tree-hugging Hippies, or...?

Danny raised his hand in a sign of greeting, patting the soft grass beside him. I plopped down next to him, looking around nervously. Nobody seemed surprised at my arrival, but nobody outright greeted me; I was still a former jock. I chatted with Danny for a bit, feeling out of place.

"Yo Kherrington, think fast!" A blur of brown leather invaded my vision, and something solid hit me directly in the face. I grasped the football instinctively before it even hit the ground, and looked up accusingly for the perpetrator. Beanie boy was grinning down at me, perched in the tree above us. I smirked and threw the football at a blinding speed just past his head, causing him to lose his balance for a moment.

"Woah, watch where you put that thing, man!" He hopped down, strutting over to where I was sitting.

"I should say the same thing to you," I remarked, getting to my feet and smirking triumphantly at him.

His eyes turned hard for a moment. Uh oh. Maybe I shouldn't have gone so far. "You're so cool, huh?"

Danny stood up behind me, seeming to sense the budding tension between me and his friend. "Come on, Riley, chill out. Owen was just messin with ya."

Riley looked behind me, presumably at Danny, and relaxed a bit. "I'm chill, Dan. No worries," he said, but I could still detect a hint of challenge in his eyes.

He slung his arm around me, pulling me toward the heart of the group at the base of the Oak. "Owen's chill too, ain't he?" he drawled, stopping in front of a guy who was slouched over, humming to himself. He looked up at us dazedly, and I could tell he was stoned out of his mind.

"Give Owen here the best you got, Mason," Riley instructed, gesturing to me like I was some king. I looked around uncomfortably, but nobody dared come to my rescue.

Mason dug around in his pockets for the "best". The best of what? I was pretty sure I knew.

Sure enough, in Mason's outstretched hand, was a joint.

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