Dedicated to _smile_always_x

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* Maddie *

A new sort of love triangle has come to life in Biology. Except, replace "love" with "seating satisfaction" and have Jason take Cole's seat while Cole is pushed back to a small desk in the back of the room.

"This is racist," Cole says so only I can hear. "She's making the black boy sit in the very back."

I suppress a laugh as he plops down in the seat.

I can't speak for how Jason feels, but a bit ashamedly, I like my seat. It happens to be the only class Jason and I share. Specifically, it happens to be the only class I sit three inches away from him for fifty consecutive minutes, all the while staying focused on amino acids.

Well, at least trying to.

Fortunately in the most unfortunate way, humans have peripheral vision and that means that the boy sitting next to me is in my line of sight until the bell rings. I peek sideways through my eyelashes to catch a glimpse of his black curls dangling over his forehead as he drifts off with his eyes closed. His jaw is defined and relaxed, his rosy lips slightly parted.

The tip of my pencil snaps and I pump the eraser for more lead.

When the bell rings, Jason stands up swiftly. He seems quieter lately, more distant. I wonder what he thinks of all the time. As he reaches the door exit our eyes lock for a split seconds and he smiles. My fingers fumble with my backpack strap and blood sputters in my cheeks. He disappears down the hall and I'm thinking of our promise yesterday.

I'm going on a date with Jason.

"Maddie. I gotta talk to you."

Cole and I walk together on our way to the first floor.

"What's up?"

"So I'm gone for one day and you let handsome chopstick boy steal my seat?"

"Sorry, it wasn't my choice. He doesn't speak much English and so I've sort of become his familiar face and tutor." I lie much smoother than I thought I was capable of.

"Tutor? Like an out of school thing?"

I nod.

"Damn Maddie, that's smooth. All these girls going gaga over him and you already got your head in his front door."

"It's not like that."

Cole raises his eyebrows at me silently and I look away.

"Look, I hold no grudges. When you like someone you jump at every second you can get with them."

"Like? Who said I--"

He raises his hands. "I got my eyes on someone too. I was hoping you could do me a little favor and find out if they're available. I mean, I did just lose my bio bestie seat buddy."

The guilt-tripping bastard. I huff. Will I even know who this girl is?

"Alright, spit it out."

"It's Georgia. Georgia Owens."

Oddly, I begin to choke on air as if my lungs have been swapped with fish gils and I am no longer suitable for the environment. I must have misheard him.

"Georgia? But she's such a-" I pause myself. Maybe not break his bubble so fast.

"A what?" Cole asks all innocent. His walnut eyes lean into me, urging me to confess.

"A bitch!"

People walking by throw curious glances in our direction.

"C'mon she can't be all that bad."

"Well you definitely haven't played volleyball with her petty ass for three years." There's more to why I don't like Georgia. I think of sophomore year and bite my tongue.

"Look, all I know is that I was at one of Derek's parties a few weeks ago and Georgia hops into the pool with me. With get a nice convo going about whales on surfboards and I make her laugh a lot. And it wasn't even the awkward-pretend-giggle type girls give when they want you to leave them alone, it was bubbly and full of personality. But I don't get her number or snap and instead spend my free time and not-so-free time thinking about this beautiful girl."

Goddamn, Cole, write me a love story.

It doesn't sound like the Georgia I know, but then again, do I really even know Georgia? Other than the competitive, snarky girl on the volleyball team, I can't think of anything else about her. Maybe, in some infinitely minuscule possibility, Georgia Owens is not the complete female shark I think she is.

Cole's voice is soft. I've never seen this shy guy in love side of him. "Could you forget your teammate rivalry for just a little while and talk to her?"

I sigh with the power of a deflating hot air balloon. I can't not agree.

"Thanks, Maddie, you're the best wingman."

He moonwalks into his next class while I'm left staring down at the elongating hallway, the 3-D of life warping and discoloring.

I will attempt to be friends with Georgia fucking Owens.

。。。。。

In the locker room after school, I join Georgia and a couple of the other girls who are changing.

"Hey," I attempt cheerfully and to no one in particular. The other girls smile and greet me. Georgia gives me a sickly sweet smile on her way out. "Madison."

Fuck, she does not make this easy.

Practice is a speeding rocket not waiting a second for anyone today. We have the first game of the playoff tournament this weekend and the regiment might just leave skeletons on the court.

I force myself to stand close to Georgia so we're stuck working on receives.

"Nice one!" I say after she sends the ball sailing in a smooth arc over the net. She only gives me one wordless look and moves on.

After thirty minutes of suicides up and down the court, setting drills, and spike tosses, my entire muscular frame is sore. My arms throb from contact with the volleyballs, and a cramp in my left side persists.

"Alright, take five minutes to catch your breath!" Coach announces.

Our team heads off the court, sweat claiming their foreheads and some of them tugging their shirts to fan their necks. I spot Georgia on the sidelines taking a drink from her red water bottle. I walk towards her and try to put a pep in my step.

Smile. Be friendly. Remember: you're doing this for Cole.

"Hey, Georg-" I say from behind her.

She whips around to face me, her cheeks expanded. Suddenly, cold water explodes out of her mouth and onto my face. I groan and close my eyes as the clear liquid drools down my face and into my bra. What was it with dirty water forcing itself onto me?

"Oh, fuck." Georgia says with her eyes wide. She has one hand over her mouth.

I shake me head and spread my arms, as if that will somehow make me less disgusting. This is how I'm rewarded from trying to be nice to a girl that hates me. I take off to the locker room, hoping I have an extra shirt in my locker and footsteps follow me. The dial spins the combination and I'm sure she's standing right behind me. I jump to face her, fearing she'll pull something menacing with my back turned.

"What's next, do you have a hose to drench me with?" I say drily.

"You popped in my face out of nowhere, I'm sorry!" Georgia replies.

This is where time begins to yawn around me. Georgia Owens is 'sorry' and apologizing to me? Maybe we both fell asleep and hit our heads because this right now must be some alternate universe, or a really strange dream. I expect someone to pop into the locker room screaming, "Holy cow it's raining meatballs outside!" or "You're a wizard Harry!" I stand still, dumbfounded. A fly might be making its way into my mouth.

Georgia shifts onto one foot and exhales. "Look, I get you're a bit jealous of me and all that-"

Do I need permission to flick her smooth little forehead?

"-but I'm not out to ruin you. Okay, there are bigger things in my life. We have playoffs this weekend and I heard there might be scouts from USC there so this is massive. I only have these last two weeks of tournaments and then senior year to get a scholarship."

She takes a seat on the bench and shakes her head, her blonde ponytail bobbing behind her as though she's genuinely and deeply distressed. Cautiously, I sit on the opposite bench. I didn't know Georgia was this passionate about volleyball.

"I feel the same way about my grades." She looks up at me. "It's like...there's all this studying, work, and pressure to do well just to get into a top college. Because if you do that then that means that you're good and successful and you'll have a nice career set out for you." I chuckle a little. "But I don't even know I want to do. I'm this robot programmed to strive for the top, but I don't know what I'd do if I ever got there. I don't know myself."

Silence floats heavy in the air and I twiddle my fingers.

"I felt free once." Georgia says. I listen closely. "I never go to parties but I went to one of Derek's spooky October themed at the end of last month. I've known him since kindergarten and he was just acting all weird. He kept having these wild burst of energy and then he'd get all quiet by himself then it was back to making jokes like a maniac. It was weird.

"So I gave up on talking to him and went to the pool. It was pretty empty towards the end of the night except for this one guy, gosh, he looked like a young Cory Kenshin."

She blushes red like a school girl.

"And he was so hilarious, I felt drunk when I laughed. But I don't drink, I never have. I was just happy."

I know two things instantly:

1. She is head over heels for the boy in the pool.

2. The boy in the pool is Cole.

Perhaps Georgia is not the Wicked Witch of the West I thought she was. Her head is hung low and a sweet, sad ghost of a smile lingers on her lips. She could be good with Cole. They could be happy together.

There is so much more to high school than competing to get into an Ivy League. Sure there's grades and sports teams to make you look like the perfect applicant. But no one ever tells you how to be happy.

The whistle blows in the gym and I forgot the extra t-shirt, instead taking out my phone from my pocket.

"I think I know who you're talking about. Here's his number."

______________________________________

I've always thought an enemies turned friends plot would be cool, especially in real life. If any of you have a friendship like that, I'm jealous.