author's note: the plot is loosely inspired by the second 'Grease' film, so creatively named 'Grease 2' which would have been much better as a standalone film over a sequel. Anything recognisable as being from 'Grease 2' does not belong to me, nor do the characters used here which are property of Michael Jacobs.

prologue
Lucas Friar exhales as he goes to turn the knob of the door. A new year, a new school, a new life. He's been debating whether or not to step inside for what was almost forty minutes now. Perhaps he could stay there for eternity, never stepping inside. He could turn around right now, tell his mama that he was feeling sick, and she wouldn't question it.

That was before the girl had walked past. Her ash-blonde hair reached just beyond the small of her back. She wore a hippie-themed Beatle's shirt underneath black-and-blue checkered shirt. Tight charcoal-toned jeans were stretched comfortably (or, at least, comfortable for Lucas' wandering eye) over her legs. Her pale face was so obviously plastered with hidden freckles, Lucas wondered for a moment why it was that she tried so hard to cover them. He had been gazing (for there was no better word to describe it) at her doll-like appearance for several moments now. It was at this point that she tapped him on the shoulder, with a hint of mischief hidden in the right-hand corner of her mouth. He wasn't sure what he could say, how he could explain what it was he had just been caught red-handed doing, when -

"Hey, Huckleberry, you might wanna get outta the way. I'm like forty minutes late for class and I don't need my best friend on my ass."

Her words weren't nearly as charming as her face, and Lucas didn't know what a 'Huckleberry' was, but he knew in that moment that he was utterly fascinated with the creature that stood before him.

"Uhh," he so intelligently replied, any wit he had possessed vanishing as if it were never there. The girl rose an eyebrow at him, her eyes widening. The cerulean of her irises danced in the light.

When he didn't say anything more, she sighed and ran her thumb and index finger through her hair, temporarily moving a few strands of her fringe. She placed her hands on either side of Lucas' arms, and shifted him to the left side slightly, just enough for him to no longer be blocking the doorway. The girl semi-bowed, tipping a non-existent cowboy hat in his direction, before stepping in the classroom.

It took a second for Lucas to process what had just happened, which left him blinking in utter bewilderment. He turned back to the door, and positioned his hand above the knob once again. This time, he twisted. Then, he pulled on the wood. The door opened, leaving several students within the class to be staring at him. He discreetly shifted uncomfortably in his spot.

"Ah! You must be our new student. Mister Friar, could you please take a seat besides Miss Matthews. You're already twenty minutes late."

The teacher was a man, most likely in his late-thirties/early-forties. He had curly hair that looked almost plastered to his scalp, and a suit that was supposed to give off a vibe of professionalism, but in reality it just reeked of pretention. Lucas sat in his designated seat, beside a girl with shoulder-length hair that's colour almost perfectly imitated that of an almond. He could see, hidden beneath the mask of her youthful, delightfully pretty face, that of the teacher standing not a few metres away. The Texan was certain that the girl beside him that he knew only for the moment as 'Miss Matthews' was his new History teacher's daughter. In front of him, was the girl from earlier.

"What was I saying again?" he asked of the class, though most of them were on the verge of dreamtime.

The blonde beauty obliged, with something of a bored voice, "You were telling us theimportance of blah in the history of blah because blah."

Mister Matthews was clearly disapproving of this answer, though already expecting it. Lucas concluded that this must have been something of regular behaviour, as Mister Matthews just rolled his eyes and spoke with something mocking, "Thanks for that. You're a real help, Miss Hart."

Miss Hart. Lucas ruminated on this newfound knowledge of the girl's name. Sure, it may be a surname, but it was a start nonetheless.

She leaned forward in her desk into her overlapping hands. She forced a smile that seemed (to Lucas) to light up the entire classroom, "No problem, Matthews, pleasure doing business with ya."

Mister Matthews scoffed at Miss Hart, to which she responded with a winning smile that seemed radiant. In that moment, an announcement sounded over the speakers. A monotonous voice flooded the room, causing a groan to take hold of the students with the exception of Lucas.

"Excuse the interuption, just some quick housekeeping before second period. It's a new year at Abigail Adams High, welcome back! The freshman class should be settled in to their first classes by now which gives perfect opportunity to give some notices. After school homework classes-"

The voice continued to drone on about several different clubs, that from the sound of it, didn't have any members ( what, exactly, is a magic club?) however Lucas wasn't paying attention to the boresome 'housekeeping', he was fascinated with watching Miss Hart. She was running her fingers through the front strands of her hair again, a habit that he had been noticing she quite frequently did. She rested her arm over the corner of his desk, whether subconscious or otherwise. Without warning, she turned around to face him. Those cerulean eyes of hers fixated on his, and suddenly he didn't know what to do. She cocked an eyebrow up, undoubtedly she had noticed his wandering gaze.

"Huckleberry-"

There's that nickname again.

"You've been staring at me for, like, two minutes straight. Could you not?"

"Um," Lucas supplied. He truly was a man of many words today. She noticed this and narrowed her eyes and scrunched her eyebrows, as if she were concerntratinng with intense purpose. "What's your name, Friar," she recalled his surname from when he had walked in, and it sounded like choral angels on her lips.

"Lucas," he managed to say without so much as a choke - what seemed to be a difficult feat today. She seemed to be scrutinising his features. She didn't give her name in return.

He exhaled and mentally prayed for his voice to work as he goes to ask her for it, "What's your name, Hart."

He mimicked her tone, pulling her out of her critical observation of him. She clearly didn't expect him to return the sarcastic gesture, "Maya."

Maya Hart, he thought, like a name in a fairytale.

Lucas' mind was working fast, trying to assess how he could continue to conversation from here, when the bell for the end of first period rang. She stood up and turned to Miss Matthews beside me. "Riles, you coming?"

"No," the brunette, Riles, replied. It was the first time Lucas had heard her voice, and it was surprisingly high-pitched. Not shockingly so, but high-pitched in the way that a child might speak.

Maya shrugged and turned towards a taller, thin boy with dark blond hair that stuck up in all directions. If it weren't for the abundance of books that he was piling up in his arms, Lucas might've thought him a picture-perfect model. The model boy ducked his head to double check that the brunette was sure she's not coming, before heading off out of the classroom with Maya.

With that, she rotated towards Lucas. She held out her hand and put on a winning smile, the embodiment of everything innocent. "Hi, I'm Riley. I'm going to be your guide!"