Hey lovely readers.
This is a new story I've wanted to write – I guess you can say I've been watching wayyyy too much Gossip Girl lately. Haha.
So, I don't know how you guys will like it, considering all the characters are very out of character, but I kind of hope you enjoy it, because it's so fun to write :)
Because of the fact I don't know how you'll like it, I need all the reviews I can get to either convince me or dissuade me from continuing. Your opinion really does matter!
Also, if I do continue this, please note that I probably won't post the second chapter until I finish one of my other stories, which ever comes first. I would like to start updating this, but I'm afraid the pressure will be too much for my weak, fragile self and I'll have a breakdown with all the update requests. Hahaa.
So if you like it, and you are fine with it not being updated until I'm finished the others, please let me know!
Otherwise, this will be the only chapter I'll put up.
Thank you my gorgeous fans.
MPOV
Wrong.
Wrong.
Wrong.
Mr. Byrne had no idea what he was talking about. I was just a student in this godforsaken class, and already I knew more about this subject than he did; no thanks to him of course. I don't even know why he was still hired here. Maybe if I asked Daddy to talk to the principal, the situation would improve – for me at least, not so much for Mr. Byrne. I was sick of sitting here three times a week listening him to him babble about worthless shit. I let my focus drift further away than it already was as I drummed my fingertips on the desk.
This class was a joke. Nobody ever paid attention; not that Byrne noticed. He just stood up there, lesson after lesson, droning on about whatever topic we happened to be studying at the moment. Smirking, pleased that I pissed off the two girls that were sitting in the seats directly in front of me with my finger drumming, I sighed heavily and dropped my head to the desk. I closed my eyes and day dreamed that maybe a Jeep would come crashing through the wall and liven the class up a little.
I wish.
Barely a minute had passed before I felt a piece of paper being roughly shoved under my arm.
Caitlyn.
Caitlyn would be as bored as I was, no doubt. We shared the same views on this class. I lifted my head slowly and reached for the note, unfolding it in one swift movement.
You're not even going to bother looking interested any more?
I sighed and shook my head. Reaching for my pen, I hastily scribbled back a note.
No point. This is fucking retarded. Is he even speaking English?
I heard Caitlyn chuckle under her breath from beside me. Twirling her hair around her finger, she leaned back in her chair, her legs stretching out 'accidentally' kicking the chair in front. Sitting in the back of the room, it was easy to get away with this kind of behaviour.
"Sorry," she mouthed and shrugged when Erinn whipped her head of extension filled jet black hair around and shot her a dirty look. I laughed, staring at my hands as I flicked my pen between them.
Look at Austin – he's practically drooling over whatever Byrne is on about. Douchebag.
I looked over to see that Austin had two ring binders out, hastily copying down the notes on the board, as well as taking notes on everything he was saying. However, he did prove useful around exam time – a simple flutter of the eyelashes caused him to hyperventilate and turn to putty in skilled hands. Not that I ever needed him of course. I was beyond capable of passing high school with straight A's myself. My grade record has got me out of trouble on more that one occasion.
I didn't bother to write back to Caitlyn, class was almost over. Two minutes to go. Staring at the clock, I tapped my pen against the desk in time with the second-hand – pissing Erinn off with each tap. She knew better than to say anything.
"Finally," Caitlyn sighed as the bell chimed twice. I knew her so well that I could practically hear her rolling her eyes. I gathered up my books, and chucked them into my messenger bag that I slung carelessly over my shoulder. We made our way down the white tiled hallway, the busy crowds of students subtly moving out the way as two of Westwood Academy's elite walked towards the cafeteria.
"So, mom is making me babysit some new family across the road this afternoon," I sighed to Caitlyn as we walked past a bunch of scared-looking freshman.
Now, I'm not saying that we had a Right Stuff moment when we parted through crowds. We were approachable. It's just that everyone knew not to approach us unless expressly invited to do so with a beckon, a curled finger, or a simple "get the fuck over here." The kids at this institution knew better than to fuck with Us. We were in charge here.
"Yeah, but at least you get paid for it?" she shrugged, walking to the front of the lunch line.
"Yep. But when has money ever been an issue?" I replied, raising a perfectly manicured eyebrow. Caitlyn laughed in response, wordlessly agreeing with me. I followed her to the counter, breezing past the younger grades that were lined up, waiting.
The cafeteria now sold salads, sushi, freshly squeezed juice and all manner of healthy food bending under the pressure from the parent committee moaning that the pizza and meatloaf they had previously sold were not fit for human consumption. To cater for those who were so inclined to eat it, it was still served, but featured less heavily. Who the fuck would want to eat that shit anyway? There's this thing we have a problem with in America; it's called obesity.
Caitlyn and I purchased our garden salads and went to sit at our table that was closest to the small indoor garden. It was annoying at the start of year to try and explain to the freshman that they couldn't just choose any table to sit at. Just about as annoying as it was to get them to move their cars when they parked in the reserved spaces. They weren't officially reserved, but everyone knew that you didn't park there. You just don't fuck with the school royalty's parking. Not unless you wanted to mess with Us.
Which you didn't.
Well, speak of the devil, and he doth appear. The other three members of Us walked over to Caitlyn and I at the table. Leading the three was the ever-so-popular-with-the-ladies, Nathaniel Ross. Nate was a curly-haired, baby-faced teen with wicked musical skills. He was a triple threat - singing, song-writing and playing guitar is what he did best. My best friend was one of the most coveted pieces of ass in the entire school. As much of a hit with the ladies as he was, he only had eyes for one girl. Caitlyn. Caitlyn who was completely oblivious; not to him - they were good friends, but to his infatuation with her. Nate had the suave skills to sweet-talk his way into any girl's heart (and pants), but near Caity, he was a nervous break down waiting to happen. He felt he never stood a chance with her, so he just worshipped her silently and painfully. And I, being the fucking Princess that I am, kept my mouth shut about it. We never, ever spoke of it since he had drunkenly confessed the sad truth to me years ago.
Poor, pathetic, confused torch carrier.
"Hey babe, how was French?" I asked as he sat down next to me, sliding his tray of greasy shit he'd actually paid money for from the cafeteria next to mine. Nate and I had been friends since before kindergarten and he was like the twin brother I never had. We even shared the same milk chocolate colour hair and deep brown eyes. On more than one occasion we had convinced people we really were twins.
"C'était chiant, ma chérie," he smiled. He knew I had no idea what he was saying, but he enjoyed teasing me just the same. 'Ma Chérie' had always been my nickname from him, ever since he first took up the language in grade school. I liked it, it sounded exotic, but it would always hold that special tie between us.
"Nice shoes," I commented, my eyes flickering down to his scuffed black cowboy boots. They weren't ones I hadn't seen before, but I gave him shit for them all the same. Like always. The school uniform merely stated, 'simple, sturdy leather shoes.' Of course, we all had our own interpretations of what that meant. He flipped me off before grinning his adorable smile. I rolled my eyes and shook my head at him before picking up my fork and digging in to my food.
Next to sit down at the table was Jason Nichols, the life and soul of any party he attended. One of the funniest bitches I've ever met in my life. Jason always had a comeback or a witty remark for every occasion. He was a sly one too; he didn't work, rather won his way through poker nights with his dad's rich friends. Today his hair was hot-ironed flat, sitting against his head held there with copious amounts of hairspray. If there was anyone contributing to Global Warming, it was the girly-man sitting across from me. I grinned internally to myself at my assessment of him. 'Girly Man' was a new one, and I would be sure to tell him next time I felt like things were getting a little boring.
"I'm so glad it isn't raining today like the weather man said. Imagine what my hair would look like now," he shook his head, grimacing at the thought. Feigning shock, I threw my hand over my mouth and looked at him with wide eyes.
"Oh, Jason! How terrible! How would you live?" I asked dramatically, throwing my hand to my forehead.
"Just because your hair sits straight naturally, doesn't mean the rest of us are that blessed," he sighed, admitting to the often-spoken-about assumption that I had the perfect hair. Jason's hair was naturally curly, like Nate's. But unlike Nate's, it was often ironed flat so often that it had lost all its natural shine and life.
"You know, you could just try curly hair," I suggested to him, toying with a piece of lettuce between my fingers. He looked at me as if I just pissed on the table. "It works fine for Nate!" I defended myself, trying so hard not to laugh at his expression.
"Yeah, so well that Juliet has never noticed little Romeo pining away for her," Jason grinned wickedly. Everyone knew about Nate's worship for Caitlyn. Well, except the lady herself.
"Dude! Shut the fuck up!" Nate whispered frantically to Jason, who was making obvious eye movements in Caitlyn's direction. She didn't notice though, she was too busy gossiping with the fifth and final member of Us.
Ahh, yes. The other member of Us. Tess Tyler. It was an understatement that Tess and I didn't get along. We'd first met each other ever since all of us attended Camp Rock when we were younger. I don't actually know why she was still 'friends' with us. Her mom was TJ Tyler, and I think we all enjoyed the benefits that brought us no matter how much we didn't like her. Any big music act that came to the city, we would get VIP tickets to, and also after-party benefits. It was a good deal and e were all selfish enough to keep her around for that. But, to keep her 'grounded' as her mother had said, Tess had to work a part-time job.
"I see you got dressed in the dark today, Mitchie." Tess eyed my uniform lazily. Okay, so I hadn't had time to tuck things in and button things up. Who gives a fuck? I could dress better than her if she were presented with Gucci, and me, the charity shop.
"Bite me, Barbie. By the way, my cousin wants to know what street corner you're working on tonight; he's keen," I smirked back at her.
It's not like she didn't have that coming. Her lips were painted bright red today which clashed with her golden hair, kind of making her resemble Ronald McDonald. Without the lipstick though, Tess was quite pretty – another reason we kept her around. She set off the aesthetics nicely.
We weren't shallow, just selective.
Tess huffed and rolled her eyes, tucking her skirt behind her as she sat down, placing her tray on the table a little harder than necessary. I chuckled, still staring at my food, but watching her from the corner of my eye.
"How do you eat that shit?" Nate asked me, poking my salad with a fork full of whatever-the-fuck they had substituted for meat today. Bull testicles were my guess. For an exclusive private school, they sure had a shocking dietary menu. With all the money in tuition fees they reap, you'd think they could go a little classier so it didn't look like we went to a fucking regular school or anything. I was going to have to talk to daddy about fixing this problem. Maybe they could hire a new chef. I had a cousin in New York who would help out at the drop of a hat if he knew how bad we had it here.
"Says the guy eating the testicles," I said, wrinkling my nose and turning my head away from the food he was trying to shove into my mouth.
"Say what you want, doesn't change the fact it tastes awesome," Nate shrugged, eating the bit of food he had previously been shoving against my lips. I looked at him, my eyebrows furrowing as I watched him over-exaggerating the enjoyment of his 'food'.
Feral.
"Did you hear about the new kid that's starting soon?" I heard Tess say to Caitlyn. I tuned out of whatever Jason and Nate were now talking about, and tilted my head towards the girls.
"Yeah, Principal Gibson said that the other morning on assembly. Maybe he'll be hot. If he is, let the games begin," she grinned wickedly. Caitlyn liked to play these games, the thrill of new meat brought out the competitive side in her. I wasn't really going to bother until I saw him – no point wasting time on someone that I really don't want. There were always transfer guys coming and going at our school; the academic excellence of Westwood was renowned; probably because we were all spoiled with private tutors from an early age. People who wanted their kids to get into good colleges were constantly moving here.
Too bad the social structure didn't allow for interlopers. And none of us made it any easier. More than one new girl had found herself with a broken heart, a C average, and a possible case of VD.
Nate's shoulders slumped as he listened to Caitlyn and Tess discuss their plan of attack. Caitlyn's shoulder length curly brown hair bobbed along with her excited eyes. Tess wasn't into the plan as much as Caitlyn; in fact, it looked like she was trying to hide something. The smug, superior look she had on her face pissed me off to no end. God, I hoped Caitlyn beat her.
I guess it was kind of mean though, treating people like game in a contest. Well, when you're young, rich and beautiful; you can get away with almost anything.
"Hey, Natie, it'll be okay. One day she'll wake up and see you pining away pathetically for her. And then she'll feel sorry for your pansy ass and you two can have weepy, depressing, sappy sex." I patted him on the shoulder, pretending to comfort him. He just groaned and swatted my arm.
I turned to listen again to Caitlyn chattering excitedly as Tess sat there and humoured her. Oh, Caitlyn. If only she knew she had the perfect boy waiting for her. So close she could touch him. But I wasn't going to say anything, my friendship with Nate was strong, and as much as I loved Caitlyn, I just couldn't ruin this for him. I threw my arm around his shoulder and shook him lightly.
"Thanks," he said as if he could read my mind as he continued to eat. I grinned at Jason over his shoulder. We were going to have to do something about this if Nate wasn't. The look on Jason's face told me he knew exactly what I was thinking.
SPOV
"Shane, wake up, you're going to be late for school," I heard my mother say irritably through my closed door. She knocked loudly a couple of times, but rather than retaliating, I ignored her.
Yeah, like I was going to school today. And I wasn't about to cross her, she sounded mad. Who am I kidding? Mom was always irritable in the mornings. Fuck, I probably would be too if I had to sleep in the same bed as my father, the way he snores would make me reach for the shotgun.
We had just moved into this new house yesterday, and being the good boy that I am, I carried boxes and whitegoods all day. I was tired. Hence, I wasn't going to school. Besides, it was a Friday – who starts at a new school on a Friday? Not Shane Gray. I can wait for Monday.
"I'm not going," I called gruffly back to her. I could hear her sigh and stomp off down the hallway.
Shane: 1. Mom: 0.
I rolled over to see the harsh red glare of my LED alarm clock numbers blinding me. Seven o'clock? In the morning? Too fucking early for Shane Gray. I growled and flipped myself over so I was facing the wall, drifting back off to sleep.
"Breakfast! Breakfast! Breakfast!" My little brother burst through my door chanting.
"Go away," I mumbled into my pillow, weakly trying to fend him off by waving my arm around in the air, hoping it would make contact.
"Nope, nope, nope! You promised yesterday you'd take me to breakfast this morning," he said happily, proceeding to jump on the end of my king size bed.
Shit. I did say that.
I groaned. "Give me a minute."
"No, go get dressed, I'll get your keys. I'll meet you in the car," he said, jumping over the top of me with his legs on either side of my chest.
I'm going to kill him.
"Shaneeeeeeee," he whined after I hadn't moved. He stopped jumping and pouted down at me. I rubbed my eyes with the backs of my hands, and stared back up at him.
"Fine," I relented, and slid out of my covers and stood at the edge of my bed, gaining consciousness.
"Hurray!" he grinned and ran out of my room. I yawned and shuffled off to my ensuite that was located next to the walk in wardrobe. I placed my hands on the white marble counter and leaned into the mirror.
Good morning, sexy.
I stared at myself for a while longer as I tried to focus my eyes after sleeping.
I grabbed the Colgate and squeezed it onto my finger before shoving it roughly in my mouth. What's the point of cleaning my teeth when I'm just going out to breakfast? As I hastily brushed away the morning film I yawned again, sending goose bumps all over my body. Walking back out into my room, I grabbed a pair of my favourite Levi jeans and my favourite shirt that proudly proclaimed I was a Ramones fan that I hadn't had time to put away in my new closet yet. Checking myself out in the full length mirror that was on one of the walls, I decided I looked decent and made my way downstairs.
Frankie was already sitting in the passenger seat of my car, looking expectantly towards the door that joined the garage to the house. His face broke into an enormous smile as he saw me emerge.
Ahh, my car. How I loved my baby more than anything. She was a 350Z in midnight black with tinted windows. She may not be as flashy as some of the other cars around here, but I loved her all the same. She got her name 'Blair' from the original number plate 'BLRE 00', which had now been spiced up to a personalised plate bearing the name.
"Maybe I shouldn't take you to Pancake Manor, you don't need any more sugar this morning," I frowned at his hyper disposition.
"What? But you promised! Please, Shane! I'll calm down I swear!" He looked alarmed. I chuckled.
"Okay, calm down a little bit by the time we get there, you're too much to handle at this time in the morning." I checked the clock on the black leather dashboard – 9:45 am. I backed out of the driveway and sped towards the nearest Pancake Manor. That place is amazing, I swear.
We stepped in and immediately doused in the smell of sugar and syrup.
"It smells so good!" Frankie closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. I laughed at him and did the same, but without closing my eyes and looking like a spastic. He could get away with that, he was 12. Me? Not so much.
"Hi, welcome to Pancake Manor." A girl that was maybe a couple of years older than me wearing a uniform smiled sweetly as she welcomed us. Her eyes flicked from my face, down to my body and back up again, giving me the full once over.
Hello to you too, gorgeous.
"Just a table for you two today?" she asked, batting her long dark eyelashes at me, ignoring my brother completely. I grinned at her and nodded. She seemed a little nervous as she fumbled with the menus and walked us over to a booth next to the western wall.
"Someone will be by to take your order in a minute," she giggled as she flicked her hair behind her shoulder and walked off. My eyes followed her ass hidden underneath her tight pants.
"Shane? What are you getting?" Frankie broke me from my trance. I looked over to see him poring over the menu, reading each and every dish available.
"Um, I don't know yet," I said, flicking open the menu. I shot a quick glance to the girl that had seated us to find her looking in the direction. I caught her eye and she giggled and turned around.
"I'm getting a short stack." He sounded pleased with himself as he closed the menu and put it on the table in front of him. I quickly read over the menu, but I wasn't really concentrating. I was thinking about how I could walk out of here with that girl's number. A smile and a wink should do it.
"Hi, I'm Tess and I'll be your waiter this evening," someone said from the end of the table. I didn't look up, but continued to peruse my menu.
"I'll have the short stack with ice cream and maple syrup please," Frankie ordered. "Oh, and a glass of Coke too please." There was silence for a couple of seconds as she wrote that down.
"And what will you have?" She changed her tone of voice completely to ask me. She sounded… flirty.
"Um, waffles. With ice cream and caramel topping," I said, sliding the menu away from me. "And I'll have a… uh, raspberry lemonade."
"Alright," she purred as she leant down to collect the menus off the table. I saw a wave of blonde hair fall in front of my eyes as her feminie, manicured hand picked up the menus. I looked up at her face for the first time to see that, holy fuck, she was even hotter than the girl that seated us. Tess was watching me with interested eyes as I openly stared at her. She dropped a menu on the floor, and I bent over to pick it up. She bent down at the same time and our faces were mere inches from each other.
"Like what you see, stud?" she whispered, jiggling her boobs in front of my face. I tried hard not to stare, but it was proving impossible. My pants were beginning to feel uncomfortably tight in the zip region. She picked the menu up from the floor and placed it back in her arms. She stood up straight again and walked off out of sight. Not before turning around and winking at me from over her shoulder though.
I'm going to have her. I swear it.
Frankie chatted away, oblivious to the fact I just really wasn't listening to him. I was too busy wrapped up in my own thoughts about Tess and how I was going to have my way with her. What better way to take the stress out of going to a new school and meeting new people than having a girl willing to do what I wanted with? Tess seemed the girl, and I was glad. My bedpost needed another notch.
I sound like a dick.
I am a dick.
I didn't want to seem too keen though, and that was the key. As long as I had her chasing after me, and I appeared not interested - this would work. Love 'em and leave 'em was my motto for this kind of situation. I only wanted to be with someone who could hold a conversation. And I'm pretty sure that wasn't Tess.
"Here's your waffles, sexy," Tess said as she returned, dropping her voice down on the last word. I grinned my panty-dropper smile up at her. Her eyes glazed over and her mouth made a little 'o', before she composed herself and placed my drink on the table – being sure her chest was staring me in the face. Good god, she was killing me.
"And there you are," she turned to Frankie, her mood shifting back to professional as she placed his food onto the table in front of him.
"Thanks," he said, filling his mouth full of food in the process. She laughed at him before winking at me and leaving. I unwrapped my knife and fork from the serviette, when a small slip of paper dropped out. It had the word "Tess" written on it with what looked to be black eyeliner, followed by a ten digit number. Her cell phone number.
I am so in.
Shane Gray, how do you do it?
So if you didn't read my AN above, please go back and do that. It's quite important.
If you did read it, get on that request wagon now :)
You know you love me,
Bree
xoxo
P.S: For those of you that are worried, this WILL be a Smitchie story.