A note from me: This Story is written from an outsider's point of view. Message me if you like it. Please No Flamers! Underlined texts means scene change.
Kaydan Markham, a girl of about sixteen strode slowly up to her new school. She hated the fact that she had to wear a uniform but who cares life sucked anyways. She was always moving from school to school, trying to fit in. This was her third uniform this school year. She just wanted to find a boyfriend and a band.
You couldn't blame her, though. She was an emancipated teen, so she always had problems. Money was tight, so she could drink or anything. Her parents supported her; they paid for her schooling but would feed her need for music after losing her first drum set.
That's when she noticed him. A blonde boy, who looked about sixteen years old, with a pair of drum sticks in his pocket. "I have to find out who that is," she mumbled, "I will after Chemistry."
Life couldn't be more of a bitch for 16 year-old Freddy Jones. His parents, or actually more accurately his whole family hated him. Then she walked into the class, a blonde haired rebel by nature. He was going to and talked to her but the teacher began to speak. "Everyone we have a new student today," Ms. Becham said, "Why don't you introduce yourself and take a seat next to Freddy, there in the back." "Ok. My name is Kaydan Markham, I'm sixteen, emancipated and a drummer in need of a set," Kaydan said quickly.
"What does emancipated mean?" Ms. Becham asked.
"It means I am a legal adult even though I'm 16. I live on my own and don't take nothing from nobody," Kaydan replied, "Now, if you don't mind, I would like to go sit."
Looking quickly over at her seat, she noticed that guy from the hallway. Looking around and seeing that this was the only empty table she sat down, getting some weird glances in the process.
"Hey, I'm Freddy Jones," the kid said, "Your kind of cute."
"Don't cute me," Kaydan replied, "I need drums and a boyfriend. Do you know where to get them?"
Her reply hit him like a ton of bricks. Here he was complimenting her and all she wanted was a boyfriend. It wasn't like she was the only one with a sad love life.
"As for the drums, I play them so I can hook you up. For the boyfriend factor, unless I'm what you're looking for I can't help you," was Freddy's reply, "Come with me after school and I'll show you."
Ahh, the infamous candy gram incident. Flashback to valentine's day last year, our school was selling candy grams to raise money, and Summer being totally in love with Freddy bought the biggest one there. Only instead of writing her name, she wrote: your secret admirer SH. And Freddy being Freddy thanked the wrong girl. Instead of thanking Summer Hathaway, he thanked Shayla Hemming.
"Now, do you understand why, Katie?" Summer said, "I don't get embarrassed again."
"But Summer, that wouldn't have happened if you written your name instead of your initials," Katie said, "It's not his fault. It's yours." There she was. A beautiful girl in punk rock clothes, out of school uniform because the bell had rung and she was waiting for Freddy. Her blonde hair shone against the black of her death shirt, black cargos hung loosely around her waist.
"God, she's fucking gorgeous. And she's waiting for me,"