Hi all! Okay so I know I have like, three stories I should be updating, AND I have to work on National Novel Writing Month (which I'm way behind in), but I ended up having some inspiration.

Between classes yesterday, I decided to write a little one-shot, kind of going along with a lyric line from Burning Streets' Disappointed. If you don't know who they are, go look them up.

The band's made up of two of my cousins and their friends. I'm related to the bassist and vocalist.

Anyways, enjoy!

DISCLAIMER:

I own nothing but my OC and this plot line.

Promises, Promises

[I don't want this story line to define who we are]

"We shouldn't act like they expect us to," she stated, untying the tie to her uniform and slinging it over her shoulder. "We're not some factory mold that can be primmed and polished until reaching their standard of perfection."

"You may be right," I started off, hesitantly removing my blazer, "but what are you going to do? Start a rebellion? You'll be in trouble with the school!"

"So? I'm sick of following the rules, being defined… I'm only gonna be disappointed later in life."

"Your parents will be disappointed now if you're expelled," I muttered. "But I guess I'll join in. You're right - we need some form of fun around here."

"Thank you! See, Fabian, you can't be a fun-sucker all the time!" she exclaimed, putting a hand on my shoulder.

"Giana, I am not a fun-sucker-" I cut myself off, having a small flashback. "Er, despite what Jerome says."

"What did Jerome say?" she inquired, grinning.

"Er, nothing," I said quickly. "It's not important."

"Lies."

"Okay… He basically said what you did about me not being fun."

"HAH! This is why we stage a protest. I say our entire House goes to classes out-of-uniform tomorrow." She nudged me. "Cool?"

I thought about it for a moment. "Why not?" I asked. "I'm getting tired of the uniforms - I'd rather wear a T-shirt and jeans to classes. I accept!"

After some convincing, everyone in Anubis decided to go along with Gigi's plan about going to class in regular clothes.

When the time came to walk across to school the next morning, we did everything to avoid running into Victor or Trudy - and succeeded.

"I can't believe we're doing this," Mara worried. "It's braking about fifty school rules!"

"Relax, Mara," Patricia sighed. "It's only breaking the uniform rule. We won't get expelled or anything."

"Patricia's right," Jerome agreed. "Lighten up, Mara. We're fine."

"Our first class is with Mrs. Andrews," Nina stated. "She'll send us back to change for sure."

"Don't worry," Giana reassured. "I've got it covered."

As soon as we filed into French, all of our other classmates stared at us in shock. Murmurs of approval could be heard as we took our seats, while others were taking bets on how long it would be before Mrs. Andrews noticed and sent us back to Anubis to change.

Speak of the devil, our teacher sauntered in right then, and as soon as she saw us, she stopped dead in her tracks, eyes wide.

"Anubis House residents," she started off warily, "what, exactly, are you doing?"

Giana stood up. "We're staging a protest," she said boldly. "I don't want something to define me, and neither do my housemates. I'm sure Nina can vouch for this, but back in America, we had no school uniforms - that is, unless you attended a private or religious school. We shouldn't be required to fit this perfect, prim and proper mold that this school is forcing on us. We deserve the freedom to express ourselves, and that starts with getting rid of the uniform requirement! We're people, not your own little, personal, uniformed dolls."

By this point, the rest of our House and I were standing as well, having Giana's words echoing in our heads. I turned to see Mrs. Andrews, still at the front of the room, completely unfazed.

"Well, Miss De Luca, that was quite a nice, well-thought-out speech," the teacher finally said. "Now if you and your housemates would be so kind as to return to your House and change-"

"No," Gigi cut her off, looking defiant.

Mrs. Andrews' eyes went wide again. "Excuse me?"

"You heard her," I chimed in. "She said no."

"Is that so, Mr. Rutter? Well, let's see what Mr. Sweet has to say about this violation of school code."

"Go ahead," Giana challenged. "Get Mr. Sweet. Go tell Victor. We don't care. Right?"

"Right," we said in unison. Mara didn't even back out.

I realized then, staring at her in her casual clothes, how much I was grateful for Giana's ability to speak her mind so easily. She always know what to say, when to say it.

And that's what I admired about her most of all.

That's why I loved Giana Rosabella De Luca, the girl who speaks her mind.

[We've got to let things go,

We've got to let things go]