I am starting a new story, and have to rewrite this because my stupid laptop freaking deleted my files! Including all four chapters of this story I already had typed out and I am so friggen mad! Other than this one all of the ANs will be at the bottom, and the top will be reserved for something I hate that is related to the chapter (as tribute to Jade, since she's kicking off the story for me).

I hate fires when I'm not the one that starts them.

Jade POV

I yawned and got out of bed, slowly stretching and getting dressed. Making my way to the kitchen, I passed my dad on the stairs. He looked down at me disapprovingly and I flicked him off. I smirked as he glared at me and finally got to the kitchen, grabbing a piece of bread and quickly buttering it. I don't get toast. Bread is already cooked, why do we need to cook it again? (Can anyone guess what I'm referencing there?) I officially hate toast… as well as everything else I hate in this hell hole of a world.

I opened the door to the garage and smiled at the one nice thing my dad had done for me in my life: my car. Of course mom probably had to order him to do it. I take back that whole 'nice' thing.

I unlocked the doors and climbed in, dropping my backpack in the passenger seat and slowly backed out into the empty street. Of course the street was empty, the street was always empty. My (wonderful… sarcasm) dad decided 'oh, I'm not getting an average house in an average neighborhood, nope, that's not good enough. I'll dream big, and get a huge house! In the sucky part of L.A. of course' and so that's how I ended up in a neighborhood with some of America's top ten most wanted. That's also how Beck ended up not having the only vehicle with bulletproof glass.

I drove faster when I heard screams coming out of one of my neighbors houses, knowing that if I tried to help it would not only be bad for me but my mom… my dad doesn't really matter to me. I drove out onto the road, and sped up even more, realizing that I was already twenty minutes late for school. Taking a sharp turn, I felt my car go on the two right wheels, and almost screamed.

The car balanced itself back on the ground within a few seconds, but I still felt myself shaking at my nearly accident, and pulled over. I turned on the radio and turned it up to the nearly deafening volume of 87. My phone buzzed and I checked it, wondering who would be texting me while school was in session. Hollywood Arts had strict rules about texting without a teacher or administrators permission. Beck was written across the screen, and I tapped on it to open the message.

Hey babe, where are you? Did you eat bad pizza again?
-the Beckster

I rolled my eyes at his signature.

I'm all good, about ten minutes away from the school. What am I missing?

I clicked send and waited for him to text back, but after five minutes he still hadn't. I wondered what was wrong and shook off all of my jitters about driving, pulling back onto the road and taking off toward Hollywood Arts.

I finally got to HA and was immediately worried by the sight of the entire student body standing outside. Getting out of my car and locking it quickly, I rushed into the crowd of warm bodies, looking for someone – anyone – who would tell me what the heck was going on.

I ran into Robbie and André, and jerked to a stop. "What is going on here?" I demanded.

Robbie just looked at me scared, and André was breathing like he was having an asthma attack. I felt myself get more irritated by the second.

"Someone tell me what the hell is happening!"

Robbie took a deep breath and started. "In the middle of first period, the fire alarm went off. We all lined up and walked single file for about ten steps, until the door next to Sikowitz's burst into flames. Chaos broke loose. It was a stampede. André and I were separated from Cat, Tori, and Beck. We have no idea where they are. We have no idea what's happening inside right now."

My thoughts were clouded, and all I could manage was a meek, "what?"

André looked at me solemnly. "Hollywood Arts is on fire."