A skinny, pale, and tormented Jenny stepped out of her foster mother's car and looked up at the sign above her; St. Mary's Catholic High School. Clutching her binder to her chest, she looked back at Elizabeth.
"Liz, I don't think I belong here," she said.
"You'll go and you'll like it. I'm not spending four thousand dollars a year for you not to like it. You'll behave too, and listen to your teachers. You need discipline. Now get." Elizabeth shut the door and sped off.
Jenny looked around; she hated her new school already, like she hated the elementary and middle schools Elizabeth forced her to attend. It was why she spent most of her time in detention, falling into the stereotypical bad crowd. She hated everything about her life--she hated her foster parents, her brother, her room and her house, her school, but most of all she hated the way she was treated. Nobody treated her like an equal, not since her foster family discovered who her real parents had been.
Elizabeth decided Jenny's attitude had gone on long enough and decided to send her to a proper Catholic school where maybe she'd learn how to behave. Jenny complained about everything, from the fact that the family wasn't anywhere near Catholic to her unflattering uniform. The plaid skirt hit her knees, and the polo shirt was baggy and uncomfortable. She wore knee-high white socks and black buckled shoes. Her bright red hair was clipped back to show off her gorgeous but empty violet eyes.
On the way into a building, some of the older students knocked into her as they passed as if she wasn't even there. She kept her head down, looking at her feet, blindly walking around. She had no idea where she was going.
"Well, well, look at what we have here! Lost, little freshman? Need some help, little girl?" Jenny looked up to find herself surrounded by tall, older boys, whom she could only guess were seniors by their size. One of them grabbed her and pulled her up against him, her binder falling to the ground.
"Whoa, those are some gorgeous eyes you've got there! Are they real?"
"Let go of me!" Jenny yelled, trying to get out of his grip.
"Calm down, darlin, I just asked a question."
"Don't call me that!"
"Why, darlin? Is that what your Daddy calls you?"
"Let her go, Kevin," someone said from behind. Kevin looked over his shoulder and let go of Jenny, who stumbled away. The crowd of boys faded and she was left by herself again. She knelt on the cement to pick up her binder.
"Hey, are you okay?"
"Don't touch me," Jenny snapped and shook away the hand that tried to help her. She stood.
"I'm sorry for Kevin. He's an asshole," the boy said. Jenny didn't say anything as she attemped to leave. "What's your name?"
"Listen--" Jenny said and turned to him. He stood at least a foot taller than her, looking down at her with soft, gentle brown eyes. Jenny was put at ease for the first time in years. She sighed. "I'm Jenny."
"Jenny," he said, nodding. "I'm Mike. I apologize for those guys. They think now that they're no longer freshman they can pick on whoever they choose."
"...They're sophomores?" she asked. Mike nodded.
"Yeah. They're the starters of the JV football team and it's gone to their heads. I hope you didn't get a bad impression of the school. Not everybody's like that."
"Okay," she said.
"You do look lost, though. Where's your homeroom?" She looked at her binder.
"Um...127."
"All right. That's in this building here. I'll show you." She followed him into a building and to her classroom. She expected him to leave but he went in with her. "Mr. F! Is this your homeroom?"
"Yes it is, Mike," the man said. He was charming man in his forties with glasses, a beard, and an amused twinkle in his eye. "And unfortunately you're ruining my morning by showing your ugly face." Jenny smiled; Mike's face was hardly ugly. "What're you doing here?"
"Well I was just escorting one of your new students. This is Jenny," Mike said, pushing Jenny forward.
"Hi Jenny, I'm Mr. Fernandez," the man said, and extended a hand. Jenny shook it. "What's your last name?" Jenny looked between Mike and Mr. Fernandez.
"Uh, Hanson," she said, hoping neither of them would make the connection. Mike may have been too young when her mother died to know who Ginger Stevens or Zac Hanson was, but Mr. Fernandez definitely would have heard about it. It was a big deal--or so the kids in middle school made it seem.
Mr. Fernandez simply made a note of Jenny's presence in his roll book while Mike looked at her. She bit her lip and waited for him to stop, but when he didn't, she grew annoyed. "What?" she snapped, her gaze shooting over to him.
Then his look changed and she sighed; he recognized her. If the name didn't tip him off, her appearance did. Her father always said she looked exactly like her mother.
"Well, I should go," Mike said. He quickly left, avoiding looking at Jenny again as he went. Jenny took a seat nearby. Groaning, she put her head on the desk.
"Hi."
Jenny looked up to see Mike with his lunch tray standing across the table. "Is this seat taken?" he asked. The entire table was empty besides a shy Jenny and her not-so-shy hair.
"Uh, no, go ahead." Mike sat down and looked over her tray--she got herself a salad and a cup of water.
"Is that all you're eating?"
"Yes."
"No wonder you're so skinny. You barely eat." He put his greasy fries on her tray. "Eat those. They're good." Her left nostril curled in digust. "Trust me. Here." He placed a small cup of ranch dressing on her plate as well. "They're amazing with ranch dressing."
"Okay..."
"Try it." She sighed and relented, trying his malnutritous concotion. It wasn't bad. "See?" She rolled her eyes. "Listen, I'm sorry about this morning. I kind of ran out on you."
"I'm used to it," Jenny said. "But at least you're not making fun of me for it. I'm not quite used to that."
"No, I won't make fun of you," he said. "I can imagine you've had it pretty hard so far already."
"No," she said. "You can't imagine."
"Is that why you're so defensive and short-tempered?" he asked. She would have taken it as an insult if he hadn't looked at her so kindly.
"Yes." He nodded. "How do you even know who I am anyway? Aren't my parents a little ahead of your time?"
"My sister was probably the biggest Hanson fan ever. She's about your father's age. When I was younger she played their music constantly. She was also a fan of Ginger's and followed both careers quite closely."
"Oh. Your sister's quite a few years older than you, then."
"Yeah. I'm the youngest of five. She's the oldest. She's about fourteen years older than me."
"Well now you can tell her you met me and make her jealous." Mike smiled.
"Yeah, I might have to do that," he said. "So, uh, who are you living with now?"
"That's a little personal, don't you think?" she asked, eating another one of the french fries.
"I'm sorry."
"I'm living with a foster family. I was supposed to live with my aunt and uncle in the city, because that's what my father wanted, but for some reason the government wouldn't let me stay there, so I moved in with my current 'family.' I've been with them pretty much the entire time my father's been in jail."
"Oh," Mike said. "What's it like there?"
"Not great. I suppose it could be worse, but it's still not the best place to be. Elizabeth, my foster mother, absolutely hates me and has since she found out who my parents are. My foster father is almost never around and he and Liz fight whenever he is. I have a brother, Josh, who's pretty much isolated. He doesn't talk to anyone."
"Have you seen your father since...?" Jenny shook her head.
"No. I'm not really allowed. I'd like to, though. I really miss him. All of this is just crap. I know he didn't do it but he's sitting in prison serving time for it anyway."
"Well, Jenny, everything works itself out in the end. You will see your father again."
"You think so?"
"I know so." She smiled, but she knew it was in vain. The only reason he was optimistic was because he didn't know the details, and he hadn't been waiting for seven years for everything to work out. "You have a beautiful smile."
"Thank you," she said and felt her cheeks flush. He smiled and began to eat.
She didn't see him again until she returned to her homeroom at the end of the day to put her binder in her locker. She didn't like that her locker was in her homeroom, but when she opened the door and found Mike talking to Mr. Fernandez, she learned quickly to appreciate it.
"Hey Jenny," Mike said, making his way across the room to her. "How was your day?"
"It was okay," she said. "You know how it goes."
"True. Can I give you a ride home?" Jenny saw her enraged foster mother's face yelling at her later, being that Liz was supposed to pick Jenny up after school ended.
"...Yeah." She closed her locker and turned to him. He smiled and led her out of the classroom. She could barely believe herself. She didn't even know this kid and she was allowing him to drive her home.
Mike had a white Ford truck and she could have rolled her eyes. She remembered when her father wanted to buy a truck her mother had a conniption fit, saying trucks were only for people on farms and ranches, and they lived in the city. From that moment on Jenny couldn't see a truck without thinking of a farmer behind the wheel. She didn't say anything, though, as he opened her door for her and she climbed inside.
"Do you live far?" he asked. "I just remembered I have work at four."
"Not far," she said. "Where do you work?" He sighed.
"I'll say but you can't tell anybody, okay?" She smiled and nodded. "I say I work at Starbucks but I actually mow lawns in my neighborhood."
"What's wrong with that?"
"It's a twelve-year-old's job! I'm seventeen; I should have a real job. I mean it's really profitable and everything, but I'm embarrassed telling people about it."
"Then why'd you tell me?" she asked.
"I figured if you could tell me all of that stuff about your family, I could at least tell you where I really work. But you're the only one who knows, so don't say anything, okay?"
"Okay, okay, I won't say anything. Geez." She looked forward and realized why he had a truck; he needed to be able to fit a lawn mower in the back. He drove her home, which really wasn't very far. "It's that house with the Jeep in the driveway." The Jeep belonged to Josh, who must have already come home from school. Mike pulled into the driveway next to it and shut off the engine. "Thanks for the ride."
"Wait," he said. "I want to talk a minute."
"Don't you have work?"
"I've got time. I live ten minutes away and all I have to do is change." She nodded. "I want to take you out this weekend."
"You mean, like, on a date?" she asked, confused.
"Yes."
"Mike, you're a senior. I'm a freshman. You're, like, four years older than me."
"You're fourteen, right?" She nodded. "When's your birthday?"
"Next week."
"Really?" She nodded. "Well, then, you're almost fifteen. I won't be eighteen until next June. That's only really about two years. That isn't very much," he said. It actually wasn't very much.
"Well what would your friends think about you dating a freshman?"
"I don't care." She nodded.
"One more question. Do you want to date me or do you want to date the daughter of two celebrities?"
"Jenny, I like you. Just you." She smiled.
"All right." He smiled. "I'll see you tomorrow." She got out of the car and went inside. Elizabeth wasn't home yet, but Jenny knew when she did get back, Jenny was in for the punishment of a lifetime.