Full Summary:

Ino Yamanaka and Haruno Sakura are anything but average. I'm Hyuuga Hinata-thrift store junkie and scholarship student to Springside, our posh all-girls high school in Manhattan (no matter how much I stretched it, Konoha could not be a huge city like NY...). Needless to say, I'm not like Sakura and Ino-gorgeous, popular, and filthy rich- but that doesn't stop us from being BFF's. Sophomore year was going great, until they started turning in to the all-Sweet Sixteen, all-the-time channel. Now tempers are flaring, Gucci bags are flying, and guys are being tossed around in vicious tug-of-war battles. All this just to see whose Sweet Sixteen reigns the best and grandest??

Yeah, so I guess I got the idea from a book called Bittersweet Sixteen.

i do not own naruto

I also don't own Bittersweet Sixteen.

There's one thing you need to know. In the world of private schools, penthouses on Park Avenue, chauffer-driven Bentley's, private jets to Europe at the drop of a hat, and Dior shopping sprees one thing tops all as the pinnacle of a thenth-grade girl's social calendar in New York: the mega and almighty Sweet Sixteen extravaganza.

The beginning of the new year has started off with enough stress already. And no, it's not because of the backbreaking heavy textbooks already stuffed into out over-sized Marc Jacobs bags for the nightly cram. It was because the Sweet Sixteen competition was about to begin, and it was steep. I mean, WAY more cutthroat than the honor society plaque.

Let me fill you in. My name is Hyuuga Hinata and I live in New York City. My school is not your average football and cheerleader, pep rally, messy cafeteria all-American kind of school. No varsity letter, no brightly-colored pom-poms, no prom kind and queen...no prom. See, my school, Springside Academy, is all girls. Oh, but it gets better! Uniform: gray and blue pleated skirts and white button down shirt. But what does it matter? It's not like we're trying to flirt with anyone next to our lockers. Wait, we don't have lockers! Instead, we have carpeted lounges with individual closets opening into couch-filled rooms.

Because Springside is the No. 1 private all-girls academy in New York, a bastion of education and refinement that has been enlightening the city's finest young ladies for over two hundred years. Located on the upper super-posh Upper East Side, it boasts a student directory where most of the last names are the same as Fortune 500 companies.

But not moi- I don't recall seeing Hyuuga on any publicly traded stocks, or anything else for that matter. Especially in the glossy party pictures of Vogue.

But luckily I don't have to deal with the over-the-top party planning for a huge Sweet Sixteen. Why would my parents be willing to drop millions of a party that will last a few hours when they can barely afford to pay for the 20,00 a year cost for my school? The most I was getting was a dinner out with friends and the 'rents. But that was fine with me. I've never been into the whole huge party thing. I love parties, don't get me wrong, but I don't feel the need to hand out Tiffany diamond encrusted bracelets as party favors or anything. All I was doing was making sure to pass all classes with A's.

The morning crunch of girls packed into the lounge, snapping D&G cell phones shut, hanging up Prada over coats, and unpacking their Gucci book bags into their closets. I said hi and greeted some people I vaguely knew, asking about their summers and getting bored looking face about whirlwind adventures to skiing in the Alps, summer classes at Le Rosée in Switzerland, worked with "youths" in the inner-city Chicago by day, balloon rides through Scandinavia, cruises through the Bahamas, ect. Sure beats my being a camp councilor in Maine. But I was still totally stoked to see my best friend, Ino.

Yamanaka Ino is pretty much perfect. But not annoyingly perfect, just flawless with out even having to try. Platinum blond and blue-eyed with Waspy facial architecture that Michelangelo would have used as a blueprint for his next sculpture. She was christened in Baby Dior, summered in Southampton, and sampled her first potato galette with caviar at the age of five. She sounds over the top, but it's all she's ever known. If she wasn't so down to earth, I wouldn't still be her friend. We've been best friends since we were zero. We do everything together. Where ever Ino is, I am and vice versa.

But we are different. I get stressed out while Ino goes with the flow of life, waving her perfectly manicured nails at any problem that comes her way (which, frankly, doesn't happen often). That's because when you pretty much own the school, no one tries to dethrone you. The whole Sweet Sixteen thing? Everyone knows Ino's is going to be the best. She's not cocky about it; she just knows. Like guys. The WORSHIP her. I mean, clay in her perfect hands. They circle around her like sharks on the prowl for her size-four chum.

Ino and I see each other every day, staying up into the hours of the night talking on the phone. Still, we always come to school and gather with out posse (our two other best friends, Tenten and Temari) to catch up on any other gossip that has gone down in the hours since we last met. So we met in the lounge after staking out our tenth-grade quarters and locating our new digs.

"He called me last night."

I turned around from my closet at Ino's elated morning report and got an excited shiver as if it were a hot guy calling me. I mean, I've had minor boyfriends and stuff, but with my not-so-Barbie looks I am hardly boy drool material. I'd been waiting to hear if she aced her latest game of flirt-o-rama. He had called!

"He is so effing hot, Hinata! I mean, like, en fuego. He's thinking of becoming a male model. He's been approached by, like, Abercrombie's scouts."

Ino was on a high of guys. Spending her summer at the beach in Barbados, tennis lessons, and heavy outings with the Greystone Country Club lifeguard. Before she could launch into full detail, Tenten and Temari swooped in and kissed each of us on both cheeks, the usual Euro-style greeting all the girls give to each other in the morning.

"Hey girls," Temari said running off. "I've gotta go and get a new chick upstairs to tour her around. See ya later!" Temari was the girl who was extracurricularing herself into college. Any volunteer job she could get he french manicured hands on, she grabbed.

"So what's this I hear about you and your lifeguard lover becoming a model?" Tenten asked, rolling her beautiful brown eyes surrounded by gold Yves Saint Laurent eye shadow.

"So?" asked Ino flipping her hair behind her shoulder. "I mean, hellooo! He's stunning!"

"Yeah, yeah..." Tenten walked off and plopped her Chanel quilted tote and cashmere sweater-coat in her closet. Ino looked at me with a perfectly plucked raised eyebrow.

"Hinata, what do you think?"

"Ino, you're smart," I started. "And I tend to think of male models as vapid himbo typed who are really vain. I know he's older and toned and stuff, but really, do really want to date a guy who counts calories more than you?"

"Oh my god! You are so right," she said twisting her signet ring. "I would so freak out if he ran to the bathroom to puke his lunch out." she twisted her hair around her finger, signifying she was thinking hard. "Besides, I love our gang of guys at Bradely. Naruto totally has a thing for me, I can sense it. Maybe I should go for him this year..." she trailed off in though.

"Naruto? Uzumaki Naruto?" I wondered surprised. I didn't know Ino was into him. I didn't know she had really even noticed him. I mean, sure he was the hottest of the Bradely gang, but last year we had been hanging more with the St. Peter's guys and had only decided to clean house and bring the Bradely boys back. I had known Naruto for quite a while. He and I shared a few small talks. I was surprised to feel a swoop in my stomach as she told me this. I didn't know he was on Ino's radar. But, of course, if he was, Ino would get him. "I didn't know you...liked him."

"Hm? Oh, we hung out in Southampton. He's had a totally growth spurt over the summer and makes Orlando Bloom look like a twice baked potato. I am so getting Naruto this year. He's much better than a male model anyways. Right?"

"Totally. Smart is better." I said. "Remember male models are like Cadburry Cream Eggs: The outside shell is really sweet, but inside there is nothing but goo." Oh well, another hottie taken by Ino. I didn't know Ino liked Naruto, but...

Ino was laughing so hard her face was red. "God, Hinata. I missed your little bits of wisdom."

"Always happy to help!" I smiled.

She sighed, "It's going to be a good year, I can feel it in my bones. It's so gona rock." and with that she flounced over to our couch and plopped her small butt down.