November 11, 1994

"Do you have the grape juice?" James asked in far too serious a tone. Chemistry class would be pointless without him. Martha had spent her childhood at science museums, conducting experiments in the garage, and generally speaking the language with her father to the point that she could most likely teach this class. James was with her step for step – her partner in boredom.

"Yes sir, I have the grape juice at the ready," Martha answered, matching his gravity.

James squinted and said, "Are we... I was going for a magician vibe, but sure, we can do military... Okay Private, I don't need to tell you that grape juice is the most dangerous substance in the known universe."

"Sir, yes sir."

"Like, what are you doing?" asked a girl seated at the table in front of them. She had big hair and a crumpled face.

"Saving the world, Steph!" James responded in character. "A thank you would be nice."

Martha couldn't help but laugh. Stephanie glared at her before turning back. Each table in the lab was replicating the same experiment with the same equipment. James and Martha appeared to be the only table having fun.

He continued, "Do you have the NH3, street name 'ammonia?'"

"Three milliliters – no more, no less." Martha handed James the pipette of ammonia.

"What's our hypothesis, Private?"

"The grape juice will turn green, sir."

"Competing hypothesis?"

"Thermonuclear explosion?"

James smirked a beat, then returned. "Yes. Exactly." He held his left hand out to Martha. Without thinking, she grabbed it with her right. Her heartbeat quickened. As was often the case when she was around him, her palms had been sweating – but he didn't flinch. "Courage, Private... Courage." He slowly squeezed the ammonia into the cup of grape juice which changed from purple to green.

"Oh, thank God," James said. He released Martha and exhaled dramatically. "That was close."

Martha gestured to the rest of the class. "Look at them all – unaware how close to oblivion they came." She noticed Stephanie glowering again at their theater. "You're welcome!" Martha scolded. Stephanie rolled her eyes and turned away. For most of her adolescence, Martha would have been devastated by Stephanie's judgement. But none of it mattered when she was with James.

"Haters gonna' hate," James said with a shrug.

"What?" Martha asked, confused by the odd expression.

"Steph is a hater, and haters gonna' hate."

"Sure... Never heard it put like that, but I guess that is what a... hater would do."

James appeared amused. They sat silently as the rest of the class continued. Martha looked at the clock. There were ten minutes left in the class – in the day – the week. In ten minutes, she'd be seventy-one hours from their next chemistry class.

James broke the silence. "Hey, what are you doing tonight?"

They were the kind of words a boy might say to a girl if he were asking her out on a date. For the past two weeks, Martha had worked desperately to eliminate this possibility from her mind. Over three years in high school and no girlfriend. He's not going to suddenly pick you, Martha.

Again, James broke the silence. "Sorry. I didn't mean-"

"Nothing. I mean... I don't have any plans," she sputtered. The poise she'd held only seconds before had apparently left the building.

"There's a football game tonight. Would you want to go to it with me?"

"Sure," Martha said with a degree of relief. It was only a football game. There would be other people – hundreds of them. They would sit and watch sports surrounded by other students. There would be no intimacy. They'd just be friends. Still... He did ask me to go 'with' him...

"Game starts at 7:00. I'll pick you up at... 6:15?"

"Yeah."

"Dress warm – the big coat. And gloves."

"Okay."

"Great. So... Your call whether or not you want to tell me where you live..."

"Right." Martha tore a page from her notebook and wrote her address.

"Or I could just knock on random doors if you'd prefer..."

"Okay I get it, funnyman. Here," she said and gave him the address. The bell rang and they stood to leave.

Martha's lipstick was bright red. She grabbed a tissue, wiped it off, and felt foolish. She leaned into the mirror, studied the acne on her chin, and felt foolish. She closed her eyes. This is not that.

"Do you need money?" her dad called.

Martha walked downstairs. "Uh... maybe. Yeah, I guess so. Thanks."

He gave her a twenty dollar bill. "So this 'James,' he's a senior?"

"Yeah. It's not a big deal." Her watch read 6:10. "Just a friend." She took the marshmallow coat from the closet and put it on.

"I'm really glad you've made a friend. Just be careful, okay. The most charming of us often have the worst intentions."

Martha raised her eyebrows. "'The most charming of us often have the worst intentions?'"

"I'm just trying to-"

"Whatever you say, Gandalf."

"Martha-"

"You should put that on a bumper sticker."

He paused and smiled. "You're making fun of me." Before the move and when on good terms, Martha had a habit of teasing her father. He never took it as disrespect, but rather ironic affection.

The doorbell rang, saving Martha from the moment. "Okay, bye," she said and headed for the door.

"You should invite him in. I'd like to meet him."

"Nope." She opened the door to James and hastily said, "Hi, I'm ready. Let's go." She closed the door and walked past James who followed. He wore a baseball hat and a large, black winter coat. Halfway down the driveway, the front door reopened.

"Phone me if you're going to be out past ten!" her father called.

"Okay!" Martha called back without stopping. They reached James' car.

Martha's father added, "Have fun! And be safe!"

"Absolutely, Mr. Beckett!" James promised. Martha wondered if her father found James' response charming.

He started the car. The dashboard clock read 7:19. "Oh, are we late?" she asked, then checked her watch and saw 6:18.

"No, I just never changed it after daylight savings."

"Because you're lazy?"

"Meh," James shrugged as he pulled off the curb. "The time will come back to me in the spring."

"Oh... I get it. It's because you're lazy," Martha teased.

"No. 'The time will come back to me.' It's profound. You're not impressed?"

"I'm totally impressed with how lazy you are."

"Fine, fine," James conceded as he came to a stop at a light. "I'm lazy. A sloth would find my apathy towards time alarming."

"You really shouldn't be so hard on yourself," Martha concluded in triumph. Just then, she noticed the University of California, Berkeley logo on his hat. "Nice hat," she said.

"Thanks." The light turned green and he accelerated. "I'm starting there next fall."

Martha frowned. "Hold on."

"What? Did you forget something? Do you need me to take you back home."

Martha didn't answer, but sat in confused silence for a moment then asked, "You're going to UC Berkeley?"

"Yeah."

"How?"

"Usual way. I applied. They accepted."

"Why?"

"It's got an amazing physics program and I kind of wanted a change of scenery and-"

"I'm going to UC Berkeley!" Martha didn't mean to raise her voice, but the coincidences were piled high enough before this revelation.

"No way! That's awesome," James said.

"No, James, it's unlikely." She couldn't comprehend how, out of the more than two thousand universities in the United States, he happened to be going to her school. Technically, she hadn't even applied let alone been accepted. But it was her school. When she was ten, her father was part of a seminar for its College of Engineering and she accompanied him. Everyone was happy. Everyone was enthusiastic about science. For a geeky California girl, it was heaven, and the only school she could ever attend.

"I'm sorry," James said. "I think it's good news. I mean... I like being around you."

Martha stared ahead in silence.

"But it's a big campus," James continued. "If you don't want to be around me, it won't be hard to-"

"No, that's not what I mean." Her thoughts were a confused mess. James was perfect, but Martha didn't believe in 'perfect' when it came to human beings. Everything was lining up for the two of them to be together, but Martha didn't believe that the universe played favorites. She didn't know how, but something was wrong.

Improbable was not the same as impossible, however. Maybe it was luck. "I agree. Awesome." She gave him a smile and shrugged, "You can break the place in for me."

"Deal," James said as he pulled into the school parking lot.

Martha followed James through a mass of people, past the concession stand, and toward the bleachers. About a fourth of the crowd were adults – parents, teachers, alumni perhaps – and the rest were students. Most wore school colors – black and red. Martha noticed Stephanie, from their Chemistry class, talking with a group of girls off to the right. They made eye contact and Martha smiled in a reflex of etiquette. Stephanie revived her scowl then said something unintelligible to the group while pointing at Martha. They laughed and-

"Watch out!"

With her attention distracted, Martha had stepped on a man's foot.

"Sorry," she said, but the man was gone. So too, was James. The improvised path through which they were navigating had closed. Martha was surrounded by strangers in black and red crisscrossing around her. She turned one way then the other, pushing up on her toes, trying to see over the crowd. Before her distraction, she had been following James blindly, not knowing their final destination. In the panic to find him, she'd lost her bearings. She saw an opening and took a chance.

"Sorry... Excuse me... Sorry," Martha said as she squeezed through. At last, she reached a clearing and inhaled the winter air. As she looked for James, the thought occurred to Martha that this might have been his ultimate goal – to earn her trust then ditch her. But on a scale of 1 to 'Carrie,' this was beneath James' creativity. Finally, on the edge of the swirl of black and red, Martha found the blue and gold hat turning left and right as James searched. Martha approached and he caught sight.

"Where did you go?" he asked.

"Oh, you know. Thought about ditching you, but couldn't go through with it," she deadpanned. James smiled and nodded toward the bleachers. She followed him up a metal stairway parting the packed stands.

"Martha!!" a voice shouted from up ahead. Martha looked up to see Camisha waving both arms. "Up here!!"

Martha tugged on the back of James' coat. He stopped and she asked, "Hey, can we sit with Camisha Raines?"

"Yeah, that's cool," he said and they continued upward. Every few steps a different boy or girl called out to James, slapped his hand, or otherwise vied for his attention.

"Hey, Jimmy!" a girl on their left called. "Like my hat?" She wore a red and black, wool jester hat. It was silly, which Martha assumed was the point. "Fetch, right?"

James responded enthusiastically, "Totally fetch!"

They continued climbing. Martha asked, "Hey, what's 'fetch?' I hear people using that word a lot. Is it, like, a midwest thing?"

"Yeah... it's... a long story," James said. "Sort of an inside joke."

The higher they climbed, the more Martha felt the violent, icy wind. They finally reached their row. Martha sat next to Camisha and nearly jumped. The metal bench was so painfully cold, it might as well have had teeth. James sat next to her. His right thigh was flush with her left.

"Look at you showing school spirit," Camisha said.

"Yeah, go... Tigers."

"Cougars?" James corrected.

"Right, Cougars," Martha said with mock seriousness.

Camisha leaned forward. "Hey, Jimmy."

"Hey, Mishi."

"You know this is my girl. You do her wrong, Ima' whoop that ass."

"Well, that was my plan. But now..."

"You know, I'm sitting right here," Martha said with a smile. She felt a figurative warmth being so close to her only two friends. That, coupled with their literal body heat, kept her from being completely miserable in the cold.

The buzzer sounded for halftime and the majority of those seated stood. James looked to Martha and said, "You want to stretch your legs – get some popcorn?"

"Okay," she replied.

They, along with Camisha, shuffled slowly down the stairway filled with like minded fans. They reached the bottom and headed for the concessions stand.

Camisha said, "Hey, I'm gonna hit the bathroom. I'll see you back up."

Martha nodded and she and James continued on. The grounds beside the bleachers swarmed with people. Martha looked ahead and saw a daunting line already forming at the concessions. She didn't notice the girl heading straight for them.

The girl stopped, looked at Martha and said, "Your coat is stupid and it makes you look fat."

Martha hadn't been self-conscious about the coat that night. She would have worn a bear carcass to keep warm. The insult hurt her feelings, nevertheless.

"Wow. Okay," James said. "Well, your face is misshapen and makes you look ugly. You should really see a doctor, because that," he pointed at the girl's face, "is not normal."

Martha's eyes and mouth we went wide. The girl's lip trembled and her chin creased.

James moved quickly. "Okay, okay, okay, so I'm obviously not being serious because you have a very pretty face."

She swallowed hard and maintained her wince.

James continued, "Do you believe me? Jenny, do you believe that you have a pretty face?"

A moment passed before Jenny nodded meekly.

James continued, "I was just trying to illustrate an actual insult. 'Your coat makes you look fat?' You can do better. Martha, have you met Jenny?"

Martha, who had forgotten all about her hurt feelings, shook her head.

"Jenny and I were in creative writing together last year and she writes beautiful poetry," James said. "Absolutely beautiful."

The flattery had taken hold. Jenny's face had morphed from a grimace holding back tears to a broad, silver smile. It was a smile that Martha knew. Jenny felt special. The premise of her father's warning was manifesting in front of her. James knew how to charm – but what were his intentions? He had pushed Jenny down to heighten the ensuing compliment. That was manipulative. But if the end result is that smile...

"Jenny, this is Martha... nice girl... funny girl."

"Hi," Jenny said. Her face shrank. "Sorry."

"It's okay," Martha said.

Jenny turned to James. "Steph Jenkins, like, told me to do it."

He nodded slowly to ponder the news then said, "You know, it's always an option to say 'No.' And the more you let her control you, the less she'll respect you."

"Okay," she said with a timid smile. She looked to Martha. "Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too," Martha agreed.

Jenny turned, left the way she came and eventually reached Stephanie and two other girls gathered at the side of the concessions stand. Martha watched as they exchanged words. Though too distant to hear, it was clear that Stephanie was unhappy with Jenny's report.

"Do you want to stay for the second half?" James asked.

Martha wasn't sure how to answer. She was thoroughly enjoying their date that was not a date. She was not enjoying the cold.

"Are you hungry?" James added. "If you don't mind leaving the game, we could grab a bite... Somewhere warm?"

"Yes," Martha answered eagerly.

"All right. Let's-"

"Wait. I have to..." Martha scanned the crowd and found Camisha. She turned back to James and said, "Hold a second." He nodded and she hurried to her friend. "Camisha!"

"Hey, what's up?"

"Jimmy and I are gonna go."

Camisha made a skeptical frown. "Go where?"

"I don't know. Maybe somewhere to eat. It's fine, I just didn't want to disappear on you."

"Okay, I guess."

"Cool." She turned to leave. "See you Monday!"

"Yeah, see you-"

But Martha had already left. She navigated the crowd to the exit where James was waiting. From behind, she heard Camisha call, "Jimmy Quinn! Remember what I said!"

"I remember!" he called back. "Ass whooping!"

Author's note:

Curiouser and curiouser...  The cafeteria, chemistry class, and now her (future) college?  It's as if he's stalking her.  But... how?

Like, totally (not)90's detail:  "Mean Girls" premiered in theaters in the spring of 2004.  Boy, this author really needs to do better research!