It's not surprising that I don't have any friends at school. Senior year has just started, and my only friends are my mom and dad—on a good day. I wouldn't put Delilah in that category because I barely know her, and she doesn't attend this school. I would've noticed for sure. I don't have friends at school for many reasons, but the main one must be Jesus. I didn't try to hide that I could see and hear Jesus, freshman through junior year. And since nobody else can see or hear Jesus, I look crazy. They've given me a title besides Judas. Yes, they don't call me Judas at the Catholic school of Hawkings High School. They call me "Jesus Freak." Creative, I know—although, I don't mind that nickname. I don't like my real name.

If you know nothing about Jesus's story, Judas betrays Jesus and turns him in for some silver coins. The amount he got was enough for a few meals at most. I know Jesus loved Judas as much as anyone, but I don't like my name being tied to the most iconic betrayal in history. It makes making friends at church hard.

"Hi, what's your name?"

"Judas. You? Oh. You're walking away now. OK."

That might be slightly exaggerated, but I've gotten my fair share of looks because of my name. One might wonder what kind of a mother would name her child after the man who's responsible for killing God. Well, I chose this name. But my biological mother—I call her by her name, Jenny—was devout in her faith. She loved God intensely. So much, in fact, that if I ever sinned or made a mistake that was seen as against God or if I said the Lord's name in vain, she'd lock me in a room for a day without food or water. Sometimes longer. There was nothing in that room. It had one window and was empty except for a Bible.

"Jessica, you will read the words of God until you've learned your lesson!"

I had nothing else to do in that room. So I read from Genesis to Revelation. I don't remember how many times I read the Bible, but I know I was thrown in that room ever since Jenny taught me how to read. She homeschooled me. And boy, was it fun. I can still feel the sting of the ruler hitting me for using my left hand to write. I'm right-handed now but not by choice. It was so bad once that she cut off a piece of my left ring finger. It's shorter than my pinky, in fact.

"Hey, Jesus Freak!" A pair of hands clap in front of my face, and I return to reality.

I'm in my first class of the day, and the one clapping is Daniel Martinez. Daniel is the star quarterback of the Hawks, our high school football team. Calling him handsome is an understatement. All the girls want him, and all the boys want to be him. He's wearing his letterman school jacket over a tight gray shirt that fits his muscular body well.

"Yes, my friend?" I say to him, gazing into his piercing brown eyes.

"Did you see the new girl? She's gonna sit right in that empty seat to your right. I checked the seating chart."

"No. I can't say I've seen her."

"Well, she's hot. And I'm not exaggerating when I say people are calling her a goddess."

"OK."

"OK? That doesn't excite you at all? She's gonna sit right next to you. If I were you, I'd make a move. And quick. The boys are gonna be all over her once they get a glimpse of that scrumptious a—"

"I've already met a girl. At Chick-fil-A."

"Really, now? What does she look like?"

"She's ... well, the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. And a nerd, too."

"Huh. Why do I get the feeling you just made that up?"

"I don't like lying."

"'Cause it's a sin, right?"

"That, and I'm just not good at it."

"Well, if you're not gonna make a move on her, I will."

"Go for it. See if I care."

He chuckles and shakes his head. "You're really somethin' else, Judas."

"Wait. Did you call me by my name?"

Tiffany Belcher leans out of the classroom into the hallway and calls out, "Here she comes!"

"Be ready to be amazed," Daniel says, folding his hands behind his head.

"Trust me," I say. "There's no woman in this world that's as beautiful as the one I got a date with yesterday."

Tiffany darts back to her seat, and her friends ask her questions. This new girl is causing quite a commotion at Hawkings High. Can she be that beautiful? No. Impossible! There's no way she's as gorgeous as Delilah.

But then the new girl takes a step across the threshold. And ... I—I can't believe what I'm seeing.

She keeps her head high and her back straight, a stance of pure confidence. Her eyes are ocean green, and her hair matches them. Her outfit is simple yet stunning: a white tank top and a loud-orange suit jacket over it. Her skin is perfect, silky, and smooth. And when I see the shine of her cross necklace dangling from her neck, I know it's Delilah.

So, she's not in her twenties, like I thought. She's a student, like me, and she's in my class!

Everyone is staring at her in awe, like I am. Whispers and murmurs start to fly, all in disbelief of her radiance. She looks around, and then her eyes meet Daniel's. He winks and nods his head at her. She ignores it, and her eyes widen when they lock with mine.

"Oh, my God! Hey!" she says, waving her hand at me. I wave back. Everyone's attention diverts to me, and they're shooting daggers.

"Ew, what's so special about Jesus Freak?" a voice whispers.

"What? Him?" I hear Daniel ask.

I still can't believe she's here. Daniel shoots a look at me that makes me feel like I'm going to get a beating after school.

She makes her way to the projection of the seating chart and searches for her name. It's sorted by last names, so I didn't recognize who was about to sit next to me. Once she finds her last name, Lor, she walks past everyone to the desk on my right. Sitting down, she takes her cyan-blue backpack and sets it beside her.

"Hey, handsome," she says, her voice deep, soothing, and sultry. "I guess we're sitting next to each other."

Wait? Did she just call me handsome? Me?

"Uh ... yeah. We are. What are the odds?"

When I look behind me and see Jesus, he's laughing. I say thank you to him.

"I have a serious question," she says with a straight face.

"Yeah. Of course. Shoot."

"Well, I was gonna save this for after the movie, but ..."

My face starts to heat up. What is she going to ask? Is she going to ask to kiss me? Right in front of everyone? Daniel, especially?

"I'm trying to create a final boss for my campaign and struggling to make them interesting. I don't want to be a generic bad guy. Like, I want him to be memorable. I want him to stick in the player's head. You know, make a good impression. Any ideas?"

"Hmm ..." I think about it for a moment. "I think what makes a villain memorable is if they single out the player."

She cups her cheek in her right palm and slightly tilts her head. "Go on."

"Like, if they have a connection with the hero. Batman and the Joker. Darth Vader and Luke Skywalker. Maybe they have taken an interest in the player."

"Oh! Like they've been studying the player."

"Yeah! Have you ever played Far Cry Three?"

"No, but I've heard about it."

"Well, it has an amazing villain. His name is Vaas. You should look him up on YouTube. People love talking about him."

She unzips her backpack and pulls out a black leather notebook. She opens it, pulls out a pen, and starts writing down our discussion. This is the first time a woman besides my mom has listened to what I say. I had no idea it would feel so nice.

"Hey," I say, "I've never seen you around school before. Did we just always have different classes?"

"Oh, no. I just moved here a few days ago." She stops writing and looks up at me.

"That makes sense."

"Good morning, class!" shouts at everyone's talking. "May I have your attention, please?"

The ambient sound of people talking dies down, and we all look at Mrs. Durnumn. She is wearing sweatpants and a shirt with the school mascot—a black-and-gray hawk.

"Because today is the first day of school, we won't be doing any work. Instead, we'll be getting to know each other! Everyone, find someone you haven't seen before and introduce yourself!"

Some groan as we stand from desks and look for someone to exchange awkward small talk with. But that won't be a problem because I can talk to Delilah. I turn toward her, and I'm met with Daniel's back sticking in my face.

"S'up. I'm Daniel," he says in a voice that he doesn't usually talk in.

"Delilah," she tells him, reaching out to shake his hand.

He takes it, only to press his lips lightly onto her knuckles, making her blush and instantly making me grimace. I'm not talking to Delilah. I look around the room, trying to make eye contact with people. The first person with whom I do immediately looks away. I see a girl, , and I walk toward her. She looks around in a panic, then scurries in the opposite direction, losing me in the crowd. At this moment, everyone has found someone to talk to—except for me.

"Oh, it's OK, Judas. I can talk to you," Mrs. Durnumn says. I've always admired her kindness. She stands in front of me, and everyone starts conversing.

"How are you, Judas?" Mrs. Durnumn asks.

"I'm great," I tell her. "I enjoyed the summer break."

"That's good ..."

I start tuning her out and listening to the conversation between Delilah and Daniel. There's only one desk behind me.

"What are you trying to tell me?" Delilah asks.

"I feel bad you're sitting next to Judas," Daniel says. "We all know he's annoying. Plus, he's an orphan. He doesn't deserve to sit next to a beautiful woman like you! At lunch, why don't you come hang out with me?"

"Actually, I'm an orphan," Delilah says. My mouth opens, and I look toward her. She's looking up at Daniel with a straight, elegant face. "And how is he annoying?"

"He's schizo! He talks to his imaginary friends all the time. Everybody in town will back me up on this. Plus, you're new here. You didn't know Judas before he transitioned. When he was a she, she was a real self-righteous bitch."

Delilah seems to think for a moment before opening her mouth, pausing as if to say something, thinking better of it, then deciding to say it anyway. "Well, Daniel, I haven't lived a good life like you seem to think. So if, for some reason, someone's upbringing limits the circle of people you interact with, I suggest you forget about us ever being friends."

"No, but you're different, right? You know, Jesus Freak's mother was—"

"I've never even met my parents."

This hits me right in the gut for some reason.

"You're just defending him because you feel sorry for him."

"No. You're wrong. I'm just stating the truth."

"Whatever. You just don't seem to get it."

I'm going to really like Delilah.

We talk to at least two other people before sitting down. I say talk, but it could have gone better for me. I end up with Stacy, somehow. I don't know if Stacy is a friend, but she'd never been mean to me.

"Hey, Judas," she says. "How are you?"

"I'm good."

"What do you think of your new desk mate?"

"Is that what they call it? She's cool, though I think she's a little out of my league."

"Hm. I don't know ..."

I'm confused by that last bit.

My next partner is a freshman named Damian. He talks my ear off the entire time, asking questions about being a freshman—the dos and don'ts and all that. It's nice to listen to somebody who doesn't know my history or mock me.

Delilah leans over to me when we sit back at our desks.

"So, you wanna hang out at lunch?" she asks.

"I'd love to," I tell her.

"Cool. Show me which room you'll be in so I can meet you there."

I show her my schedule. When she puts hers beside mine, she smiles.

"What?" I ask.

"We have all the same classes together."

I look down at the schedules she's holding, and sure enough, we have every single class together—even the same off hour.

I turn back toward Jesus, and he has the biggest grin—the sly dog.

"What kind of music do you listen to?" she asks.

I start to tell her about my favorite bands. It turns out we both love Daughter. We continue to talk about, well, everything. We talk for what seems like forever. We speak of instruments; she knows how to play guitar and likes to sing. I tell her I like to read the Bible. She also likes to draw. We both love spicy food and cats. She wants to get into Magic: The Gathering but needs someone to play with. I offer to play with her, and she says, "It's a date."

I've only known this woman for thirty minutes, at most, and I know I will marry her one day. She's the one. There's no doubt about it.

The bell rings, and we walk together, still talking, to our next class. We talk through that entire class, then talk in the halls and talk in the next. We repeat this two more times before we get to lunch.

"I don't have money for lunch," she says.

"I could pay," I tell her, pulling out a twenty that my mom gave me for lunch.

"No, don't. Please."

"No, really, it's—"

"I said no."

I put the twenty back, and there's an awkward silence between us.

"Sorry, I just ... don't like people having to pay for me."

"I get it. No worries."

We both decide to sit at our lockers, which are also conveniently next to each other.

"Why is everyone staring at you?" she asks as we sit against our lockers.

"Everyone's staring at me?"

"Yeah. In all the classes we were in and in the hallways. People kept shooting you looks."

I could think of a thousand reasons why I was being stared at. One of them is that I'm me, and I'm talking to the most gorgeous woman in Hawkings High. Two, she's the most magnificent woman in Hawkings High, so she might be thinking everyone's looking at me when, in fact, everyone's looking at her.

"I'm kind of known as the weirdo around here," I tell her.

"Well, you don't weird me out."

Her green ocean eyes sparkle, and I must look away to avoid blushing.

"You barely know me," I counter.

"I'm good at reading people. And you don't seem like a threat."

"Tell that to Daniel. It'd take a miracle not to face his wrath by the end of the day."

"Why's that?"

"Well, you're more interested in me than him, which isn't the normal reaction girls have with him."

"Daniel's a fuckboy. And an asshole. Who cares what he thinks?"

"He's got a particular way of life, yes. But I don't think he's an asshole."

"Really? He seems like a douche."

"He can come off that way, but he's sweet, deep down. This one kid in freshman year was giving me a hard time. Daniel got in his face, and the kid stopped messing with me. When I thanked Daniel, he just shrugged me off. He continues to call me Jesus Freak and to give me a hard time, but if anyone else does the same, he's sure to correct them."

"Hm. So, he's a bully that bullies other bullies for bullying the kid he likes to bully."

"Basically. He's a good guy."

"Well, I'm surprised you have such a high opinion of him."

"Gotta love your neighbors!"

(Continued on next page)