Dawson is- most people who don't know him would say- as straight as they come. And senior year away from home promises to be a big year for him: no parents in sight, a whole new set of friends, he just seems to have it all. Not to mention that all t...
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MILO AND ABRAHAM are already talking way too much for Dawson's taste and he's just praying for some peace and quiet. Something he obviously won't be getting anytime soon since he agreed to be a decent person and introduce himself to Milo's other friends. Besides, he knows his plan of getting expelled might take a while and, although he's not a fan of people, he doesn't really enjoy complete loneliness either.
The cafeteria is airy and spacious and- to Dawson's disdain- also overly crowded. It's early September and people are greeting each other after a whole summer apart. Dawson scans through the room. Everyone looks pretty average. That is, if you don't consider their parents can afford to spend over sixty thousand dollars of tuition every year just for them to be able to attend Wharton High. So far the school doesn't look like anything special, really and it's not fucking Harvard, either.
As they diagonally cross the cafeteria, a cloud of whispers starts rising from the crowd. The group of girls standing between them and their final destination splits up like the Red Sea by the hands of Moses. They sigh coquettishly, but Dawson ignores them, feeling more annoyed than flattered by all the attention. As a matter of fact, he doesn't even look at them. His gaze is already settled on the table in front of him.
There's a tiny girl sitting at the round table sipping a Pepsi with a striped paper straw. She has fair skin and a 90s black bob with shorter bangs. The leggy blonde sitting next to her is excitedly narrating something, but the recipient doesn't seem to be receiving anything. She's zoned out and looks completely lost in thought.
"Ladies," says Abraham with enough enthusiasm to take the black-haired girl back to reality. "This is Milo's new roommate."
Dawson steps forward, showing himself to the curious eyes of the girls.
"'Sup," he jerks his chin towards them. "I'm Dawson."
The black-haired girl's eyes dart on him and she almost chokes on her Pepsi, snorting it from her nose. The leggy blonde jumps back in her chair. "The fuck, Maisie?"
Milo ignores them. "Dawson just got here from New York City."
The blonde girl stands up, dusting off her perfectly-ironed white cotton blouse. She's pretty and she's also very aware of it. Her hand shoots forward like a missile. "Calliope Jennings. But call me Cal, that name's way too self-important."
Dawson shakes her hand then discreetly turns to Milo- who's blushing way too hard- and waggles his eyebrows suggestively. The ginger-haired boy looks like, if he had a say in it, he'd very much love to sink through the floor at that very moment.
"Hi, I'm uh- my name's Maisie-Rae," the black-haired girl says staring intensely at the table flooded with Pepsi. Her cheeks are glowing red. She picks some tissues from the dispenser at the center of the table and starts a failed attempt at damage control.
"Hi," Dawson stares at her with an unrestrained skeptical smirk.
"I think I'm supposed to give you a tour of the school," she adds in a thin voice. "You're Evans, right? The new guy."
