Disclaimer: I do not own Mean Girls… I wish though.

Author's Note: Listened to 'Mister Glassman' by Scotty Sire; now I'm here. Tell me what you think, and I might make this a series


1.0


The first time Tino Vitale met 'The Plastics', he was beginning to understand the whisper that surrounded them.

It was only 7:25 am.

School started more than an hour and a half from now, but Tino eagerly – yet quietly – walked down the quaint, sleepy hallways of North Shore High.

As he approached the drama hallway, he made a sharp right; his walking now turning into a light jog.

Tino smiled, coming to an abrupt stop in front of a large bulletin board; large cut-out letter reading, "TEAM NEWS", topped the frame.

"You're just in time," said a voice behind him.

Tino turned, Coach Carr strutted his way, a single piece of paper in his hand. "I couldn't wait 'till school started, so I came early."

Coach Carr gave a nervous laugh, as he stapled the page to the bulletin.

"Did I make it Coach?" asked Tino.

Carr bit his lip, slowly walking backwards to his office. "Uh… why don't you see for yourself?"

Tino nodded, dropping his knapsack down to the floor, as he frantically searched for his name.

"NORTH SHORE FOOTBALL TEAM", read the title of the page, a long list of names below

"Aaron Samuels… Freddie Reginald… Shane Oman… Zachary Acton… Alfie Stewart…"

The more he made his way down the list, the more quickly a pit in his stomach began to form.

Tino gave a trembled sigh, nervously checking the list once more.

But it was no use. He could've re-checked the list a million times if he liked; but it was, what it was.

"… I didn't make it."

Tino looked over to Coach Carr, who slowly made his way to the disheartened boy. "I really thought I would make it this year."

"…I'm sorry Tino," Carr consoled. "You've got great character bud, I appreciate every effort you put in by coming early and setting up, and by staying late and cleaning up. But your football is… to put it bluntly …plain…. awful."

Ouch.

Tino sighed. "But I tidied up my runs… and… and my throws Coach! I can finally throw the ball in a spiral!" he urged; panic and yearning evident in his tone.

Coach Carr crossed his arm, his eyebrows drawing together. "I…. erm… the team just can't have a repeat of last season, Tino! You remember how bad we were?"

Tino's shoulders slouched, "I guess losing all our games, and getting disqualified for flipping off the referee is as bad as it gets."

"Thanks for understanding, Tino. And hey…" Coach Carr pointed his finger at another page on the bulletin, a small – yet perhaps sly- smile etching onto his face. "…not all hope is lost."

Tino looked at the page, "FOOTBALL MANAGEMENT" was written in a bold, comic-sans font.

His name was the first one on the list.

TINO VITALE – WATERBOY

Double ouch.

"Leave football to the guys who can do it, 'kay?"

Tino opened his mouth to respond but before he could, he heard a voice from the other side of the hallway.

"BABY!"

Tino turned his head and saw Trang Park walk his way.

He looks to Coach Carr, whose face was turning red. "Um… like I said Tino, stay strong… and uh... yeah…. bye!"

And quickly, he walks towards Trang Park; dragging her towards a janitor's closet.

Tino sighs, as he looks down at his watch.

"7:40 A.M."

He awkwardly shuffles in place for a while, until finally settling to go to the library.

He needed to review for his English quiz anyway.


As Tino entered the library, you would assume that the first thing he'd notice would be the broken cart of books, or strong scent of strawberry perfume.

Because, quite honestly, it should've been.

But in fact, what he first noticed was the table of girls that were arguing with each other at the very back of the library.

As he began walking to an empty table, he found it difficult to take his eyes off them. It wasn't everyday he – or anyone in particular - saw these 3 particular girls arguing.

They were always so well-maintained; hearts made of stone, and faces caked with makeup.

But else could anyone expect? The 3 girls in question, were plastic after all.

And plastic never breaks; no matter how hard you want it to.

He managed to find a table next to theirs, and he sat down; taking out his books and binders. He opened his copy of Julius Ceasar to the beginning of Act I; in order to review the act once more for his upcoming quiz.

But no matter how hard he tried to focus, Tino found it difficult to do so; his ears, and mind, wondering off to what the girls next to him were saying:

"Okay, just give me the main details; what happens in Act I of Julius Caesar?"

"Oh my god! I love Caesar! I eat it every day for lunch!"

"Karen, that's a Caesar salad…"

"Duh! What's your point?"

"You two focus! Ugh, I need a copy of the script. Gretchen?"

Suddenly it became tone-deaf.

Tino bit his lip, his eyes slowly wandering over to their table;

As he did, he saw Regina George, Gretchen Weiners, and Karen Smith all sitting down; however, their usual neat and intimidating persona, was now filled with panic and anxiety.

"Hellooo? I forgot my script. Gretchen gimme yours." Regina ordered neatly.

Gretchen fidgeted with her pen. "I.. uh… thought you were going to bring yours."

Regina furrowed her brow; it seemed for a minute that she was going to blow, but the tension quickly vanished from her face. "Karen, I need your copy of Julius Ceasar."

Karen gave a small chuckle. "I don't have it now. I'm going to buy it for lunch!"

Regina pinches the bridges of her noses in annoyance. "God, I am surrounded by dumbasses," she says in a chuckle. "I am failing English, and instead of helping study for this stupid quiz, you're trying to get me to fail."

Gretchen shakes her head furiously, "No no no, Regina it isn't like that! We-"

"-save it Gretchen."

Tino looks over to the brunette, who – surprisingly, out of nowhere – turns to meet his gaze.

The eye contact between the two is brief, yet awkward. And suddenly- just like that, he feels self-conscious. He fumbles with the pages of his script, and suddenly a light-bulb goes off in his mind.

He sighs, closing his book and shifting over to the edge of his seat. "Excuse me…?" he whispers.

But they don't seem to notice. "Excuse me? …. Uh excuse me? Excuse –"

"I heard you the first time!" snaps Regina. "What?"

Tino opens his mouth to speak, but suddenly it feels that all the voice in him has left. And for a second, he just stares open-mouthed. "Do you… uh, want to borrow the script?"

Regina stares at him for a while, a bit of confusion and annoyance evident on her face. "Excuse me? But do I know you?"

"I'm…. Tino… uh… I'm in Gretchen's English class."

Gretchen furrows her brow, "You are?"

Tino pouted. "I sit in front of you…", he mumbles. "Listen you can have the script, just return it in English."

Gretchen looks at the script being offered to her for a second. Her face showing mixed emotions of both confusion and sincerity, before taking the playbook, and passing it along to Regina; who plucks it from Gretchen's grasp, and begins to frantically go through it.

No 'thank you'; no nothing.

Tino sits awkwardly for a second, trying not to look over at the girls next to him; before finally deciding to pack his things and head out.

And as he makes his way to the exit, the corners of his mouth can't help but curve into a small smile.

It wasn't everyday someone talked to The Plastics, unscathed and un-dissed.


And as he walked to first period English, that was the only thing on his mind.

"Another announcement regarding the football team: the team list has been posted outside Coach Carr's office; so please check to see if you've made the team."

Tino sat in his desk, the P.A system crackling to life with the morning announcements.

He tapped his pencil against the edge of his desk; trying to recall the major events of Act I of Julius Ceasar, for the quiz that was about to start.

"Ceasar attends a traditional race… Cassius tries to persuade Brutus to turn against Ceasar… terrible storm happens, and Casca believes it's a bad omen. …"

*THUD*

The sound of something falling was light, yet recognizable. And as Tino looked down at his desk, he saw his copy of Julius Ceasar; a lipstick stain gracing the corner of the playbook

He looks up, and sees Gretchen Weiners looking over him.

"I just… um… wanted to say thank you," She slowly confesses. "Regina gets very… uh… moody when things don't go her way, and I appreciate you helping out.

Tino gives a small smile. "No worries… I uh… I mean…. like … yeah…. yeah." he suddenly furrows his brow, and points at the lipstick stain.

Gretchen bites her lip. "Karen needed to blot off excess lipstick… and uh… your copy of Julius Ceasar was… um… convenient."

Tino chuckled. "Yeah?"

Gretchen nodded, a small giggle escaping her too. "Yeah."

For a split-second it felt was if she was going to kiss him; and if this was a rom-com, she might've.

But she just stood there; giving a small smile, before making her way to the back of the class; where all the boys were discussing who had made it to the football team.

Tino fidgeted with his eraser. A strange type of disappointment filling him.

Perhaps because the dismay of him not making the team was still bothering him.

Or perhaps because he expected more from Gretchen Weiners; a break from her usual petty and stiff character.

Tino chuckled. Who was he kidding?

The whole school knew Gretchen Weiners was plastic; and plastic never broke.

Although he was sure – he hoped, that somewhere inside, there was part that was urging to.