"So, how are you liking Beacon Hills so far?"

Ellie had heard that question so many times over the last two weeks it didn't even seem like words any more. She understood that her uncle wanted her to feel welcome, and all, but he was overdoing by a long shot. Then again, it probably didn't help that the death of her parents occurred at the same time he moved his family, meaning the place was just as unfamiliar to him as it was to her.

The truth was, she wasn't liking Beacon Hills. Her whole life had been in New York, in one apartment with the same view of hundreds of skyscrapers. She went to Times Square every New Year's Eve, she went to the same high school and she'd known all of her friends (though they were scarce) since birth. The only thing that made the town even slightly bearable was that she had Allison Argent, her cousin, there with her every step of the way.

The girls were incredibly close, and even looked more like siblings than cousins. They both had the same dark hair, the same hazel eyes and the same sharp jaws. Allison was the only person Ellie ever spoke about her parents with, and the girl tried her best to understand the pain she went through.

Sophomore year was starting soon, and Ellie wasn't looking forward to it. She would be repeating the year because of an unseemly amount of fails on her last set of exams. The death of her mum and dad threw her life into turmoil and the time she was supposed to spend studying was instead at the florists picking out bouquets, or at Macy's choosing a dress.

The funeral was the first time she'd worn a dress since she was ten, and she didn't plan on reliving the experience. She was perfectly fine with her 'devil-may-care' attitude and worn out combat boots. Allison had a different approach, with her girly summer dresses and fashionable boots.

"It's great, Uncle Chris," Ellie sighed, not bothering to look over at him, "Just the same as it was two hours ago,"

So, she wasn't the most polite person in the world, she never had been, but she blamed it on the fact that she didn't have a filter between her mouth and her brain. She said what she thought, and that, more often than not, got her in trouble with other people.

"I'm sorry," he laughed, "I'm suffocating you, I know. I'm just worried."

"I know, Uncle Chris," she groaned, "But, seriously, I'm trying to read,"

She was trying to read. Her feet were propped on the sofa, her head on the arm rest and Dracula open on her lap. She was tempted to just give up on the summer reading list that had been sent through the mail, but her Aunt would have her eyeballs for earrings if she did. Aunt Victoria was actually kind of scary. She had what could only be described as 'serial-killer-eyes' but she chose to keep that observation to herself.

"Hey," Allison jumped down next to her, a ball of energy, "So, I was thinking, tonight we should look around the town, find the high school, you know, so we don't get lost."

Ellie raised her eyebrow, "That…" she glanced down at the paperback, "Sounds better than reading this, actually. Let's go,"

They couldn't leave straight away, Ellie had to change into more suitable clothing (apparently society doesn't find grey sweats and a tank top suitable for a young lady). She only changed into a pair of ripped jeans and threw a green jumper over the tank before running out to Allison's Mazda and jumping into the passenger's seat.

The next two hours were spent driving around town, eating curly fries and complaining about school starting. Apparently they had even less time until the start of sophomore year than she thought: the school year started the next day.

"I can't believe this," Ellie sank further into her seat, "Tomorrow? I thought we had at least a week!"

"Nope," Allison giggled, looking over at her cousin with a grin, "Up at 5am, bright and early!"

Taking her eyes off of the road was probably a bad idea, because suddenly they were swerving around a person, screaming at the top of their lungs.

"Oh my God!" Ellie yelled, "We have to go back! Pull over!"

"I'm pulling over, I'm pulling over!" Allison shouted back, stopping the car in the middle of the road. It was raining, but neither of them cared, too busy running back to where the person had now disappeared.

"It's really creepy," Ellie whispered, looking at the wide expanse of woods stretching on the side of the road. There was a trail, she could make out through the rain, so, against her better judgment, she crept slowly down the path. "What…?" she glanced down and saw an inhaler, innocently sat there like it wasn't totally out of place. She bent down to touch it, but was stopped by Allison's hand on her shoulder.

"Ellie, let's just go," Allison said urgently, tugging on her cousin's arm. They both trudged back to the car, and didn't speak again for the rest of the night.

Ellie woke up to the sound of Allison singing in the shower. It was a Justin Bieber song, and that, coupled with her cousin's terrible singing voice, made her feel like her ears were bleeding. Allison wasn't even a fan, she just knew it was something that would annoy the living hell out of her cousin.

"Shut up!" she yelled.

"Get out of bed!" Al shouted back.

Ellie groaned, but did as she was told. Reluctantly, she walked to her own bathroom, showered and then straightened her hair in the mirror. Looking her best definitely wasn't a priority. Why would it be? She was planning on getting the hell out of Beacon Hills as soon as high school was over; making a positive impression on her peers was the least important thing in the world to her.

She threw on some underwear, grabbed a pair of blue jeans, yanked them on, and then dug around in one of her drawers to find a top that wasn't too small for her. She did pull one out, eventually (a plain black long sleeved shirt) and tugged it on, grabbing a jacket before she sailed down the stairs and to the kitchen. Her aunt was there, holding a plate of toast ready, and Allison was munching on a bagel in the corner. Ellie didn't ask where her uncle Chris was; he was most likely on some top secret firearms selling mission that was 'none of her concern'.

"We should get going," Al said after swallowing, "Don't want to be late on our first day,"

Ellie made a face, grabbed her school bag.

"Goodbye!" Aunt Victoria called behind the girls as they ran to the same positions they'd been in last night.

They had to wait outside the building for the vice principal to show up, as was 'protocol' for new students. Ellie didn't find that fair at all, because her hoodie was thin and the cold was seeping through like she was in the arctic, not California.

Allison was sat next to her, looking bored but excited, and rummaging through her bag to check she had everything. Her phone rang, breaking the silence, and she put it on speaker as soon as she answered.

"Mum, three calls on our first day is a little overdoing it," she said plainly, trying not to be mad about how protective her family was.

"I'm just trying to make sure you've got everything," Victoria explained, sounding exasperated at her daughter's lack of appreciation.

"Well, we have," Ellie informed her, digging around in her school bag. "I've got everything…" she groaned suddenly, "Everything except a pen. Oh, jeez, I can't believe I actually forgot a pen."

The girls both looked up, and Allison hurriedly said, "Okay, okay, we've got to go. Love you," before hanging up and throwing the phone back in her bag. The vice principal was walking toward them, smiling politely. He was short, with caramel coloured skin and wearing a grey suit.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," he apologised as the two girls stood up. Ellie stayed silent, not really caring. The longer they got out of lessons, the better. "So, your father told us San Francisco isn't where you grew up?"

"No," Allison answered, "But we lived there for more than a year with is unusual for my family. Ellie only just moved in with us this summer, though,"

The man looked at the other Argent with interest, "Oh?"

"I grew up in New York," Ellie shrugged, "But apparently dead parents warrant moving all the way across the country,"

"Well," he said after a moment of awkward silence, "Hopefully Beacon Hills will be your last stop for a while." There wasn't any talking after that as they walked to what Ellie assumed was their first lesson. The class was already packed, she saw, apart from two seats in the centre of the room. "Class," the vice principal started as the girls moved into the room, "These are our new students, Allison and Ellie Argent. Please do your best to make them feel welcome."

Allison smiled at the people in the class, but Ellie just gave them a fleeting glance before dragging herself to a seat behind a guy with brown hair that fell in a mop of loose brown curls. Admittedly, the kid was cute, but she was too worried wondering how she would get through the rest of the day without a pen. Seriously, at this point, she would settle for a lead pencil.

As soon as she sat down, she noticed the syllabus on her desk, making her groan inwardly. She glanced up when she felt someone watching her and saw the boy in front of her turned around, holding out a pen. How did he know she needed one?

With a shrug, she grasped the outstretched biro, "Thank you," she smiled. He grinned in return and faced the front again. What was that about?

Ellie only had two more classes with the boy: chemistry and economics. Not that she would ever admit it, but she was looking for him everywhere she went. She had no idea why, but decided questioning it would do more harm than good.

At the end of the day, she was stood with Allison at her locker. Her cousin was asking her how her day went, seeing as they didn't share every lesson with each other. Ellie left out no details about just how thoroughly boring school still was.

"But it was fine, Allie," Ellie leaned back against the wall, scanning her eyes over the rest of the halls. She locked gazes with the boy from English, and her lips twitched upwards. For some bizarre reason, she wanted to go over and talk to him. He was leaning against a locker, looking adorable with his puppy-dog eyes focussed on her. Okay, she really wanted to go and talk to him. She was saved from that ridiculous notion when a girl walked up to the pair; she mentally slapped herself. Seriously, what the hell was going on with her?

The girl was really pretty, with strawberry blonde hair and green eyes. She wasn't very tall, but her heels made up for it, acting as stilts to bring her to Ellie's height. The girl inspected the Argent's, lips pursed, hip cocked to the side. "That jacket," she said to Allison, "Is absolutely killer. Where did you get it?"

"My mum was a buyer for a boutique back in San Francisco," Al answered.

The girl turned to Ellie, "And you… I love that necklace,"

"Oh, yeah," she shuffled uncomfortably, "Thanks, um, it was my mums,"

"And you," the girl flipped her hair, "Are my new best friends,"

"Uh…" Allison floundered for something to say, but she was cut off by a guy walking forward. He had styled brown hair, an attractive face and an ugly orange shirt on. He said a brief hey before lip-locking with the girls' new friend. When the couple pulled away, the boy grinned at Ellie.

"Hey, I'm Jackson," he introduced, "And this is my girlfriend-"

"Lydia Martin," she interrupted, a warning look consuming her face as she stared pointedly at her boyfriend. Jackson just wrapped an arm around her and smirked.

"I'm Allison," Al greeted them, "It's really nice to meet you," She nudged her cousin.

"Oh, yeah," Ellie rubbed her sighed, eyes narrowed at Allison, "I'm Ellie,"

"So," Lydia folded her arms, "This weekend, there's a party,"

"A party?"

"Yeah," Jackson nodded, "Friday night. You should come,"

Ellie bit her lip, trying to think of a decent excuse, "Uh, we can't," she refused, before Allison got any ideas, "It's family night on Friday. Thanks for asking." She didn't miss the frown she got from the other brunette.

"Are you sure?" he pressed, "I mean, everyone's going after the scrimmage,"

"You mean like football?" Allison asked curiously. Ellie knew that her cousin couldn't care less about sport, but she did. Football wasn't her strong suit, and neither was baseball, but she liked soccer, and lacrosse. And there was the fact that athletic guys were always the best looking.

"Football's a joke in Beacon," Jackson said around a laugh, "The sport here's lacrosse," Ellie's eyebrows rose. Maybe this town wouldn't be as bad as she thought, "We've won the state championship for the last three years,"

Ellie stole a look in the direction of the boy from English, noticed him looking and turned away again, blushing. "Because of a certain team captain," Lydia ruffled her boyfriend's hair.

"Well, we have practise in a few minutes," Jack informed them, "That is, if you don't have anywhere else to-"

"Well, I was going to-"

"Perfect," Lydia interrupted, "You're coming,"

Ellie wasn't really objecting to watching the practise, because, hey, she enjoyed lacrosse. It was a contact sport, and a lot more thrilling than other popular American past times. The field was already dotted with players as the three girls found a space on the already full bleachers. The sport really must've been the best in town to receive this sort of viewing for just a random gathering. It wasn't even the first elimination; according to Lydia, that was on Friday.

She caught sight of the boy again; who she was considering just referring to as Puppy Boy, because of his adorable big brown eyes. Yeah, she was a sucker for that kind of thing, no matter how tough she made herself out to be. He met her eyes and beamed; like he had done every other time they'd seen each other. It could have been creepy, but it wasn't. She gave a manly head nod in reply.

The coach walked up to Puppy Boy, and they exchanged words. He looked angry as he was tossed a stick and a face guard, but he ran to the goal nonetheless. With interest, Ellie watched as the rest of the team lined up, save form a kid on the bench, and the one at the front readied himself for throwing the ball.

"Who is that?" she blurted to Lydia, making both of the girls break out of their conversation and look at her.

"Him?" Lydia nodded in the direction of the goal, making Ellie nod in response, "I'm not sure who he is. Why?"

"He's in my English class," Ellie felt heat rising in her cheeks, but she pushed it down before her cousin noticed. She already knew she wouldn't hear the end of directly seeking the name of another student, especially seeing as it was one of the male gender.

The whistle blew, and He Who Has Not Been Named clutched his head in pain, like it was hurting him. He doubled over, shaking visibly, but apparently the assholes on the lacrosse team didn't care that their goalie was very obviously not okay, and the first guy let the ball go.

It wasn't a great shot; Ellie could've done better, but it was good enough to hit the boy in the face and send him to the ground. She bit her lip, wondering why that affected her so much. She didn't even know the kids name, and now she was expressing more concern for him than she did her closest friend back in New York? That didn't make any sense whatsoever.

"Way to catch with your face, McCall!" Someone yelled, and the boy, McCall, sat up, head turning in the direction of the bleachers as people began to laugh. Sympathy curled within her.

This didn't seem to deter him, however, as he pushed himself back onto his feet, rolled his shoulders and adopted a stance that was almost perfect for the position. She was slightly impressed; after a hit like that, she wouldn't have blamed him if he gave up.

The ball was flung at him, and, moving like an expert, he caught it in the net. McCall gaped down at it, like he hadn't thought he would catch it. Judging by the fact Lydia didn't know who he was, and that everyone on the field was regarding him in complete and utter shock, he wasn't usually this good.

The next five or so balls were all caught, and the crowd was steadily gaining enthusiasm. People were letting out yelps of encouragement, Ellie found herself grinning.

"He seems like he's pretty good," she noted casually.

Lydia nodded, "Yeah," her voice was unnaturally high as she puckered her lips, "Very good,"

McCall bounced in excitement.

Jackson must've been a big shot in High School Lacrosse, because, as soon as he shoved his way to the front of the line, everyone else stopped. It was like a collective breath was drawn in, and they were treating it like a cheesy western showdown. Tacky music played in Ellie's head, followed by close-ups of the boys' eyes through their face guards.

He ran, did a weird leg-flick thing as he jumped to send the ball flying, tearing a path through the cold air. McCall moved so fast you'd miss it if you blinked, plucking the ball from the air and sending it to rest in the throat of his stick.

Everyone on the bleachers cheered, Lydia even going as far as to stand up, cup her hands around her mouth and whoop. Ellie felt herself grinning as he swivelled to face her.