Just Friends

chapter 2

Had Ma never met Scott, I'm pretty sure our house on Parkview Avenue would've remained on the market for another two years. I would've never known of a high school called Langham, and I definitely would've never met Ash, Justine, or even Ivy, for that matter.

Above all else, I would've never met him.

Of course, I don't tell this to Ma. Putting it this way makes it seem like I'm blaming everything on her. All she did was fall in love. But I can't help but wonder what would've happened had she misplaced her keys or forgotten her purse and wound up at the grocery store fifteen minutes later. 'Cause see, these fifteen minutes are crucial. With them, there wouldn't be a Scott and Ma, and I wouldn't even be sitting here pouring my heart out to her at one past midnight.

That day, though, after she'd gotten back from the grocery store, she didn't bother asking me to help bring the groceries inside like normal. She didn't even call to let me know she was back. There was only the sound of the front door opening and the shuffling of bags toward the kitchen. Finally, she called me to help put the food away, and when I noticed the small smile on her face, all she told me was that she'd met this super tall, super gorgeous guy—

"And Angel," she beamed, "he's so charming."

I never got to meet Scott 'til about four months later when she decided that the day he put a ring on her finger would be the best day for her to finally introduce us to each other. As you'd imagine, it was awkward as all hell. And not even two months after that, we had our tiny little apartment on Crosby Street stuffed into boxes.

I started at Langham about a week after we settled into our new home on Parkview Avenue. Most of my things were still packed away except for the bag slung over my left shoulder. It was my first day of class. I'd already made it two periods with no problems, and as I peered through the window of my next class, I was banking on making it a third.

I walked inside just as the tardy bell rang. All the students were already settled into their desks, pulling out binders and notebooks. Pens and pencils. I cleared my throat and walked over to a lady I assumed would be my teacher for the rest of the school year.

"Hey, uh"—I released the grip I had on the strap of my bag and fished my schedule from out my back pocket—"I go here."

She nodded, taking ahold of my wrinkled schedule. She adjusted her glasses as she scanned over it, then looked back at me with a smile. "Nice to meet you, Angel. Go ahead and have a seat."

"Anywhere?" I asked.

She nodded.

Not that there were many seats to choose from anyway. Just two. One up front and one all the way in the back. I ended up choosing the one in the back. Which turned out to be a bad idea because not even two seconds later, my teacher—Mrs. Himelfarb—clapped her hands and with the cheesiest grin, reached out in my direction.

"Angel," she said. "Why don't you introduce yourself to the class?"

Everybody's eyes followed the direction of Mrs. Himelfarb's reach until they were all fixed on me.

But I wasn't one to hesitate this day. I just wanted to get the introductions over with so that everyone would stop staring at me.

I stood up and placed an open palm on my chest. "Hey," I started. "Name's Angel." Then paused to take a look at Mrs. Himelfarb. She kept that cheesy grin on her face. Kept...staring me down. Like she wanted me to say more. I didn't really know what else to say, so I gulped and said, "—de la Rosa."

"Where are you from?"

"New York."

She chuckled. "Why Georgia?"