A/N: Hälsningar! Wow, I never expected school to be so troublesome this year 'round. Well, I know that the story alert might be going off, but this is not a new chapter. I have completely re-written this story. Why? I felt that it was going nowhere In fact, I was thinking about not continuing this, but I know how annoying that is. So, I decided to re-write it. I am really sorry if you liked the older one better. I think that this one will be better than the first copy. Also, the plot is the same, just the story is more descriptive, and the title suits the story amazingly.

Love it or hate it? Just remember to review it.

Enamored

Chapter One

Beep, Beep, Be-ep.

The alarm clock rang out loudly, breaking the peaceful morning silence. I pushed the covers away from my body, shivering at the air-conditioned chill in the air. Mornings were never my favorite time of the day, but with a smug mood, I realized that this week would be the last week that I would have to deal with. On Friday, it would be the last morning that I would have to wake up and go to school. That, even if a completely unorganized accusation, was enough to make me wake up slightly.

This week was the very last week of high school for me. I was finally graduating from the one place I hated. Of course, I would miss my friends dearly, high school was the only thing keeping my in Dallas, Texas. The moment that passed, and I got enough money, I would be gone. I honestly could not wait to go somewhere bigger than Texas. I wanted to become a "city girl".

Dallas was very pretty, especially in the morning, I just wanted to be near more people. People who didn't know, or could care less, about you. Where in Texas, everyone knew everything and the only privacy you could every wish to get, was in your own bedroom. Everyone talked about every body and everyone hated everyone body. Texas had way too much drama for me.

"Are you up yet, Aubrey?".

My foster mother called.

I looked over at my slightly ajar door. "Yeah. I am."

Sighing loudly, I pulled on a pair of faded jeans, a white shirt, and a hoodie. I guess the good thing about Dallas High School was that the school board felt that we didn't need to wear a uniform. That may have had something to do with the poverty hitting our school and the shops around Dallas. Which really didn't make any sense to anyone. If you needed money, why decide not to enforce a rule that would make everyone need to pay?

Shrugging at my own thought, I slipped my red hair into a lose tie before pulling my red hat on. Taking a moment, I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I was pretty average. Well, I was really average. Underneath my eyes was covered in freckles, I had hazel eyes that were almost gold. My hair was a terribly limp red. I wasn't too thin, but I wasn't too big either. Comparing me to the average Dallas teenager, I would look completely out of place.

Slightly tanned skin that was too light for the strong rays of the sun, smaller build and absolutely no curves. My eyes looked dead without a thin layer of eye shadow or eyeliner. Where as, the other girls had curves since they were in grade five, perfectly sun kissed skin, eyes that just shone brightly even without make up.

I didn't hate myself, though. I would just trade myself in for anyone else in my class any day.

Giving up on my reflection and my terrible morning self-hate, I lifted my bag onto my shoulder. I gave myself one last look before turning on my heel and walking out of my room.

My foster mother, Sara-Mae, was sitting at the table sipping on her coffee. "Hey, Aubrey."

I smiled, "hey, Sara-Mae."

Sara-Mae was this beautiful woman who could put a supermodel to shame. She had platinum blond hair with big, bright blue eyes, and so many curves. She was the poster-woman for beauty and everyone knew it. They also knew that she took me in. Although, it wasn't that difficult to figure out.

"Mm." Sara-Mae began. "Your graduation pictures just came in."

I nodded to myself.

I don't think I remembered to smile in those pictures.

"Oh, that's great."

I was so socially awkward that I pitied myself. I hated public speaking, I hated group activities, and I really hated talking to people when I knew that the conversation was going no where. I didn't really like to start conversations with people so I didn't generally talk to many people at my school. It was completely fine with me, because I would rather just get over the pleasantries of high school, graduate and be done with it, rather than making friends who would ultimately just laugh at my "big city" dreams.

I did make a few friends, though. Those friend were the complete opposite of me in every aspect. From appearance to personality. It shocked me to even begin to think of how we started talking or even began to like each other.

I smiled to myself.

Mary Laraine was a quiet eleventh grader who some how tagged a long with us. Although we are all older than her, maturity wise, she was older. Mary was into books, and bugs. She wanted to become a Neurologist when she grew up. Like me, Mary wanted to move away from Dallas and the state of Texas all together.

Kimberly-Anne Jacobs was the type of girl who everyone wanted to be and all the guys wanted to have. She was the picture perfect girl who had everything and wanted nothing. All stereo-types aside, contrary to the beliefs of the "popular" people, she wasn't vain or self-conceited at all.

Ansley Haywood was the eccentric one who would much rather skip down the halls than walk. He liked guys and got made fun of a lot, but he says that he doesn't even care- that hiding his sexuality was more painful than the physical pain. Of course, as different as we were, Ansley was really the only one who I could call my best friend.

"You know, your going to be late."

I looked at Sara-Mae. "What?", I asked.

Sara-Mae smiled to herself. "Your going to be late."

"Oh!".

I grabbed my lunch off the table in my rush to the door. "Bye."

I slipped on my shoes in a hurry, deciding that tying them would only waste time. Sara-Mae yelled something about not being here after school, laughing to herself.

Naturally she would think that me, who had never missed a day of school in my life -aside from the major sick days-, being late for the bus would be highly amusing. I opened the door, and sprinted to the corner of my street. I could already see the large, yellow, school bus pulling up near my stop.

I absolutely hated mornings.

.::.

I just nearly missed my bus this morning and I was late for class. My first Period teacher, Mrs. Vanderpoel, made me go all the way to the office to get a slip. I didn't get that rule. I was only a little late. Shouldn't they just be grateful that I came at all? I gave my teacher the slip, and went to my desk sluggishly.

My first period was 'Social Skills'. Which was a huge class that I had to take to become a lawyer. Most of my other classes I wouldn't need until I went into Collage or a Law School, depending on what I would be able to afford. Although, I estimated that if I started saving up, I might be able to buy a law book.

Kimberly-Anne smiled at me as I sat down next to her. I gave her a small smile back. Kimberly-Anne was the strawberry blond that everyone wanted to talk to. She was every teacher's favorite student, and everyones favorite friend. Kimberly-Anne was tall, blond, and blue-eyed. She was the stereo-typical 'popular chick' if there ever was one. I felt so ordinary sitting next to her.

Contrary to the 'popular beliefs', Kimberly-Anne was the nicest person I ever met.

"I thought you weren't gonna show."

I shrugged, dropping my bag behind my chair. "I was almost late, but I managed to get here."

Kimberly-Anne chuckled, "good. 'Cause then I would have to present our social economic project all alone and then you wouldn't have gotten a mark. You would have failed and then dropped out of school...".

I was only half aware of where this conversation was actually headed. I was pretty sure that it was going to end with Kimberly-Anne stressing over something that is not based on any actual facts. I pulled out my note book that had all of the information about Travis, County in Texas, and scribbled aimlessly on the cover of my book.

I was only vaguely aware of Kimberly-Anne tapping my shoulder impatiently. Sighing deeply, I turned to her, dropping my pen on my desk. I arched an eye brow "Yes?".

"So... Did you hear?", she asked, her early worrying replaced with a curious expression.

I shook my head, "no. Heard of what?".

"Well." She began.

The teacher cleared her throat. "Miss. Hewitt. I suggest you pay attention."

I gave her a nod. "I was asking to use a...hi-lighter."

The teacher nod disbelievingly as she went back to explaining population.

"Ashton Stanford is having a party. I think he wants you to go." Kimberly-Anne whispered, her eyes darting from the teacher to me.

I couldn't help the blush that crept onto my cheeks.

Ashton Stanford with the very hot, and very unavailable, quarterback. Every girl had fallen for him at least once. A little thing that Mary Laraine had once dubbed: Stanford Appeal Syndrome. She concluded that since he was so appealing to everyone, and that he shifted to fit everyones social needs, that it was only reasonable that our young, teen-aged hormones would go into overdrive.

I, unfortunately, was apart of the SAP.

Ashton was just so socialized. He was so adaptable to everything around him. He kind of reminded me of a Chameleon. The ability to change everything about yourself just to fit in with people. It was such an amazing trait to have. He could literally be apart of any social cliques. He didn't take advantage of that, nor did he flaunt his popularity of everyone.

He was just there.

I admired that about him.

He never took advantage of the girls' that throw themselves at him- he was reserved, and comforted them when they broke up. I'm not saying that he is a 'good guy' to everyone, but he does seem like the 'John Tucker' type of guy. Only a little less of an ass. Just in the hormone driven teen-ager and the popularity.

Of course, I always felt that I was kind of into the 'John Tucker's little brother' type.

"No." I admitted, shrugging nonchalantly.

Kimberly-Anne smiled, "well. You do now."

"You can't just invite someone to a party. 'Sides. If he wanted me to go, he would have asked."

Kimberly-Anne laughed. "He's a guy. They don't invite girl's they like- they have someone else do it."

I felt my heart jump. "Sure, sure. What's gonna happen at the party?".

She went quite for a moment. "You have to say you'll go first."

I was a bit skeptical, but this was Kimberly-Anne I was referring to. She would never do anything that might cause harm to me. I gulped, nodding nervously. "Sure. Sure. I'll go."

She grinned. "V, Weed, Speed, and Beer."

Suddenly, the 'nervous feeling' hit me like a ton of bricks. Unfortunately, I had already said yes, and she was already text-ing whom I could only assume was Ashton.

What had I agreed to?