Hustle Vs Muscle

Chapter 2: A Real Note

I head to my locker to get my History textbook. As I open my locker, I find a piece of notebook paper, folded in half. I grab the piece of paper and unfold it. It better not be a fake love note from Liam D'amato. D'amato had done that to me, several times. The wastebin outside the cafeteria was full of fake love notes from D'amato and his gang that I had ripped up and thrown away. I read the writing. D'amato doesn't write this neat. The note reads:

Dear Christina,
Meet me at the park at 6: 00, at the basketball court. This isn't a fake note, I swear.
-C

It definitely isn't D'amato. I decide to head to the basketball court at the park at six this evening. I check my watch and see that I have one more minute until class starts. I sprint to History, making it just as the bell rings. I hate where I sit in History. I sit in front of D'amato and behind Lily Lulu, the most annoying girly girl in the school. But if it was a choice between Lily Lulu and D'amato, I'd rather be partnered up with Lily.

Lily Lulu is applying her lip gloss as usual. As I sit down, D'amato whispers into my ear, "Nice legs, shorty." It takes all of my willpower not to slap him. "You shouldn't be talking, beanstalk." I whisper back. Mrs. Marissa, the History teacher begins droning on about the Greek. I almost fall asleep, but when she says the words "group project" , it snaps me back into focus. "What?" I say incredulously. " Yes. A group project." says Mrs. Marissa. I say it in my head like a prayer. Not D'amato. Not D'amato.

"Group A." said Mrs. Marissa, reading off her clipboard. "Alex DeShaun, Will Skye, Jason Jameson and Randy Charleston." Randy, Alex, Jason and Will all cheer at the same time. She lists the names for Group B, C, and D. "And Group E." she says. "Is Christina Perkins, Lily Lulu, Antonio Valencia and Liam D'amato." I feel sick, as if I'm coming down with the plague. It had to be D'amato, of all people. Even though Antonio is a bit snarky, and Lily is way too girly, I can handle them. But not D'amato.

As soon as I get home, I wear a pair of tights, a T-shirt and basketball shoes. I check my watch. It's 5: 50 and it's a five minute walk to the park. "Where are you going?" asks my mother. "I'm just going to the park." "Be back by six-thirty." she says. I nod. I walk to the park. Five minutes later, I am at the basketball court, waiting for whoever the heck "C" is. "Hello?" I call out. "C?" I wait a few seconds and then call out again. I check my watch. It's 6:01. I expect D'amato to show himself and laugh at me about how gullible I am. "Hey," says a voice. "Christina Perkins, right?" I turn around and I see him.