A/N; This is my first OC fic so don't be too hard on me. This was originally for another story, so don't be surprised if Seth is a bit out of character this chapter.

Chapter One; You, Me & The Slushie

"I've heard some things I guess it's better not to know
It's pretty bad as far as first impressions go
A bigger man could probably get past it all
Oh, the problem here is I just won't grow up
So what?"

-Lousy Reputation, We Are Scietists

Come on you stupid lock! Why won't you open? Class starts in two minutes!

I should've gone to my locker before lunch; spending the end of the lunch period in front of the washroom mirror isn't the smartest thing if you're, well, me. I guess my love for looking good isn't always a good thing...

Geez, why won't this stupid thing open, this is like my millionth try!

I tugged the lock violently, and was vaguely aware of the person next to me struggling to open their locker as well.

Suddenly, I kicked my locker door out of frustration, which didn't seem like the smartest thing to do because it feels like all my toes are broken now. Crap, and my new shoes are wrecked now too. Lovely.

This time I carefully turned the dial of my lock to the exact number, and finally I heard the reassuring click as my lock finally opened. Success!

And then the sound of metal meeting my forehead reverberated through the hallway.

"Ow! What the hell?!" The next thing I knew, I was on the floor, all my text books around me and my forehead was throbbing so hard it felt like someone had hit me in the head with a sledgehammer.

I heard someone curse loudly as I began to open my eyes, which immediately focussed on a boy with curly, but slightly messy hair and the most beautiful brown eyes I had ever seen. Despite the fact he'd just him me with his locker, he was kind of cute.

"Shouldn't you know better than to stand in the way like that?"

I can't believe this. This guy just hit me with his locker and he's asking me why I was in the way? What an ass! I stared at him dumbfounded.

"I'm Seth Cohen," he offered me his hand, "And what I meant to say was; I'm sorry."

Well at least he had some manners. He helped me up and gathered up my text books, which I accepted gratefully, at least until-

I felt something cold and wet being slopped down the front of my new, white shirt.

Seth Cohen had just spilt the remainder of his strawberry slushie, from lunch, down the front of my shirt.

We both stood there paralyzed with shock. Isn't this just the pickle on top of the crap sandwich that is my day."So," he cleared his throat, "What's your name?"

I looked at him like he was from Mars, which I wouldn't have been surprised if he was by the way, "Like I'm going to tell you, you jack ass!" my tone was venomous, but I was proud. I picked up my books and stormed off to the girls' washroom.

Screw being late for class. It wasn't like I was going to miss anything.

"Miss Roberts, so nice of you to join us," My English teacher, Mr. Crowe, said coolly. Everyone was staring at me; I could've died of embarrassment.

I tried to hide the stain on my shirt front as best I could with my books, but not even they could hide the strong scent of strawberries that followed me as I walked to my seat and sank into it as low as possible.

"Yes, so nice of you to join us Miss Roberts," said an irritatingly familiar voice from behind me.

My eyes bulged as I slowly turned my head to see who had made the snide remark, desperately hoping that it wouldn't be who I thought it was.

Considering my bad luck, I wasn't surprised to see Seth Cohen sitting behind me, a triumphant smile upon his lips. I turned back to face the front of the class and began to hit my head against the desk, trying to wake myself from this...nightmare. I resisted my urge to hit him.

This time I didn't care who was looking at me, or what everyone was saying, because all I could here was the triumphant snicker of Seth Cohen in my ears.

Correction, this is the pickle on top of the crap sandwich that is my day.