First story.
Be nice.


Stan Alto glanced at the file in his hands. A small picture on the front showed a young, smiling, attractive brunette girl of about 17. He had already read the file three times – he was a thorough man and liked to make sure he never missed a single detail. He cleared his throat and turned to his assistant.

"Are you sure this is her?" he questioned.

Alberta stared at his boss. She was a little miffed. After twelve years of faithful service he still found the need to question her impeccable work.

"Positive."

-x-

Rose Hathaway gripped the edges of the paper in her hands, squinting as she tried to memorise as much of the map as she could to avoid having her nose stuck in it all day. She hated new schools. She hated having to learn where classrooms were and having to get used to yet another system. She should have been used to it by now, but no matter how many schedules had been shoved in her face, it still sucked. Majorly. This was her third school in a year.

"First day?"

She glanced up to find herself looking into brown eyes, accompanied by a mass of black hair framing a tanned face. The word 'pretty boy' made itself known in Rose's mind. Before she could respond, he thrust out his hand.

"Ambrose. You look as though you need some of my assistance." He smiled.

Rose took a deep breath and took his hand. "I'm Rose. Is it that obvious?"

Ambrose grinned. "What class do you have first?"

Rose glanced at her schedule "Calculus with.. Mr. Doru."

Ambrose's face showed disappointment. "Damn, I have politics. C'mon, I'll take you there."

-x-

The rest of the day passed without much excitement. Rose hadn't really paid attention to anyone and was just relieved that no one was giving her any grief. In-between classes however, Rose found herself being chaperoned by Ambrose, much to the obvious dismay of her fellow female classmates. More than twice Rose nearly told Ambrose she was more than capable of finding her own way around, but restrained herself. After all, he was merely being nice wasn't he?

Besides, it's not like he wasn't nice to look at; one look at the size of his well, everything told Rose where Ambrose appeared to spend all of his free time. Aside from that, Ambrose appeared to know quite a lot about everything and everyone and had plenty to say, which ridded the need for Rose to contribute a lot to conversation which she was glad about. Nevertheless, she was happy when he finally reluctantly left to go to his own classes.

-x-

Rose sat in Economics, staring at the clock, willing both hands to go faster.

"One more period.." she muttered. She glanced at her timetable and discovered with irritation that she had gym. Sport was something Rose didn't participate in anymore. Not after the accident. It simply brought back memories that were too painful for Rose to handle.

She gathered her things and (after avoiding Ambrose) wandered slowly to the gym, intent with using the excuse of being new to say she got lost.

To Rose's surprise, the gym hall was empty and was about to leave when she heard voices yelling and cheering, and so made her way towards them discovering that it led to the school's oval. Ah, it appeared the sport for today was baseball. She briefly smiled as she remembered how fond her Dad was of that sport before steeling herself against the memory. She grimaced and began to make her way to who she assumed was the gym teacher – a well-built man who was umpiring the game.

"Mr.." Rose began.

He turned around, and Rose momentarily froze. Standing before her was the finest of male specimen. A tall man in his twenties sporting messy brown hair and startlingly green eyes looked inquiringly at her. He had a perfect straight nose and cheekbones even a model would die for. If she thought Ambrose was hot, well, this guy was leagues above him.

"Ivashkov." He supplied, smiling.

Rose recovered and responded quickly.

"I'm Rose. Sorry I'm late, I'm-

"New? I heard about a new student. Not many students transfer in the middle of senior year. Feel free to watch for today if you like." He interrupted and turned back to the game going on.

Rose didn't know whether to be grateful or annoyed. She made her way to where some of the students – the batters were sitting, waiting their turn. She absentmindedly ran her fingers through her hair and sat down.

"Dreamboat huh?" a voice interrupted her thoughts.

Rose turned to discover the voice belonging to a petite blonde girl with her curls situated around her porcelain face.

"I'm Mia. You're Rose aren't you?" The doll-like girl questioned.

Rose fleetingly wondered how Mia knew who she was when Mia spoke again.

"Everyone knows who you are. The mysterious hot new girl who everyone is dying to get to know. What brings you to St. Vladmir's?"

Rose stared. She had never met someone who spoke so fast.

"Um. My aunt and uncle move around a lot. I don't really get a say." Rose managed.

Mia seemed to sense Rose's unwillingness to elaborate and changed subjects.

"Ivashkov is quite a hottie isn't he?"

Rose laughed, "I don't think that's debatable."

Mia grinned and opened her mouth to reply when someone yelled that it was Mia's turn to bat.

"Ooh, wish me luck!" The blonde girl squealed and ran off.

Rose was surprised. This school seemed to have genuinely nice people, unlike her previous schools. She thought back to how she was accused various times for supposedly stealing other girls' boyfriends.

Rose saw no reason to stay any longer and got up. She glanced at her phone. If she was lucky she'd make the next bus which left in.. ten minutes. She picked her things up and hurried off.

-x-

Adrian Ivashkov watched the new girl running off out of the corner of his eye. He'd heard the staff discussing her arrival and the buzz from students. Their description hadn't done her justice – she really was an attractive girl. He realised what he had just thought and stopped himself instantly. Since when had a student had an impact like this on him? She was a girl for Gods' sake. He could pursue any woman he wanted; why was he thinking about a teenager? He shook his head and turned his attention back to his class.


I don't really know where this story is going or whether I'll even continue. I just felt an urge to write and so I did.
I suck at finishing stories. I can always picture them perfectly in my head, and when it comes to writing it down I just go blank.
Sigh