This is my first Cry-Baby fic. And quite honestly, I was more taken with the relationship of Hatchet-Face and Milton than I was of Cry-Baby and Allison. Sorry, Just saying!
So this is a fic of how they started... in my opinion. (:

-x-

The bell rang its annoying droning ring, waking me up from my Algebra time nap. I stood up from my desk and stretched, sticking my never used number two pencil behind my ear. In doing so, I pushed a small tuft of my long hair out. I smoothed it back with my fingers and walked through the already empty classroom, save for the teacher, Mr. Fischer, to the door.

Mr. Fischer called for my attention from his desk.

"Now, Mr. Hackett, you have been here at this school for over a month now, and I still have yet to receive any of the homework assignments from you. And you don't seem to be taking advantage of our class time here..." He trailed off, not sure if anything was sticking.

"So...?" I asked, trying not to get annoyed.

"So? I need to see some kind of work from you if you wish to even try and pass this class!"

My calm facade broke and I couldn't control my temper at that; all my tests came back with nothing less than an "A". "Why should I even bother with this kind of work?" I asked him, "I was finding the square root of "x" times "y" three years ago, and I could do it in my sleep now! That is, if I wished to see your face, even after school hours." I enjoyed the shocked look on Mr. Fischers face, more than he knew.

"Well Mr. Hackett, if that's how you truly feel..."

"It truly is."

"Then I have no choice but to stick you in detention with me after school every day this week."

My smirk slipped into a sneer, "I would love nothing better."

Usually being a quiet person, I was a little shocked at myself for my audacity. But it was too late to apologize, I decided to just take my punishment in stride.

-x-

As I walked back into Mr. Fischer's classroom after the final bell rang, I saw no less than fifteen people sitting at the desks.

I chose a seat next to a skinny boy I recognized from my English class second hour. He nodded at me, to show he noticed my presence, then went back to talking to the girl seated behind him. Even though I knew very little about the Drape/Square conflict; coming from Chicago, we only had civilians and gangsters; I could tell that everyone in the room was a Drape. The leather jackets with the popped collars, the tight skirts that had slits all the way to the thighs, blouses that were no more modest than a tick was big, and hair that was either styled in big curls that framed the girls' faces, or slicked back so tight that it seemed air rebounded off of it. And then I was kind of stuck in the middle; Not a Square, although my parents would love that, and not a Drape because I didn't look nearly cool enough. I had long hair, but it wasn't oiled in place, and I wore button down shirts with loose slacks. Nothing that looked bad, but also nothing that got me noticed, which was good. Being noticed was one of the things that I tried to avoid my whole life.

I was about to lie my head onto my doodled on desk when the all mighty Mr. Fischer walked into the room.

"Alright, alright! Settle down!" He called over the heads of the students. "I need roll call." He announced, "We'll spice it up a bit by going in alphabetical order... Backwards!" He announced it like we would all get excited about it, like we were five, or something.

"Z, Zimmer."

"Here." A muscular boy with horn-rimmed glasses raised his hand.

"Y, Yates."

"Here." A very skinny, and extremely slutty looking girl raised her hand, then turned back to her friend.

"W, Woodward."

"Present, Mr. F." A very pretty, but heavily made-up girl answered him with a polite sneer.

At this point, I thought he was just being redundant, until he called a "P, Walker." and a very pretty, very pregnant girl answered before continuing a conversation with W, Woodward.

He continued through his list until he got to a name no one took account for; and after he was completed with his list, he went back to the missed name, to see if they just hadn't heard their name.

"M, Malnorowski."

Silence.

"M, Malnorowski?" Mr. Fischer repeated. At the silence he got irritated, "Where is Mona Malnorowski?"

"She has the flu!" P, Walker answered.

"She has band practice!" W, Woodward supplied.

"She had to go get some facial surgery done!" A one L, Frigid answered. And to my surprise, many glares were shot her way. I had no idea why, but no one seemed to like the attractive redhead... At all.

"Pepper. Do you know where Mona is?" Mr. Fischer asked her, a little more personally. Probably to see if she had a straight answer for him.

"I'm not Hatchets mother, Mr. F. If you would like to ask her, though she would be the one standing in the parking lot selling cigarettes to your daughter."

Mr. Fischer froze in his stance at his desk, then slowly turned to see, whom I could only assume was his daughter, standing with a white haired woman at a cigarette stand in the parking lot.

"You are all to remain here until I get back. And no talking!" He stressed. Everyone sat in silence as he left... Until the door snapped shut, then everyone erupted in excited chatter.

"Nice one, Pep!" Someone gave P, Walker a high-five.

Everyone, except one girl, avoided L, Frigid. She must not be very popular with the crowd, unlike this Pepper.

Being someone who is kept to themselves and quiet has its perks, but it also has its downfalls. I was in the solitude that I craved, but on the same coin, I didn't know anyone or their reputation. Even if they were the most popular person in the school, I had no idea who they were. Until the "Crew" talked to me.

At that point in time, my whole life changed.

-x-

Yes, no, maybe?
i would like some feedback on this! D: i do love this movie soooo much! but i wanted to dive deeper into how Milton fell so deeply in love with someone so like Hatchet. (:

ahh, i love love stories! ahaa.

Review, please. it makes me want to update fasterrr!