Thank you for the reviews, my darlings :) Here's chapter 4...


BRAND NEW EYES

Layla El had never been the new girl before.

Back in England, there was always someone she knew and she was the girl everyone wanted to be around. She had an amazing group of friends that now she was in America, she was at risk of losing. Facebook would be okay for a while but in the long run, ties would be severed and everyone would go their separate ways. It sucked but that was life.

"This must be a big transition for you, Miss El but at Fitzwinter, we'll do our best to make sure you feel right at home." Principal Winston seemed nice, she thought.

Her mum – or 'mom' as they say in the USA – was sat to her left, an encouraging smile on her face. Her parents split up about two years earlier and Layla wasn't on speaking terms with her father, who was now living on Primrose Hill with his new architect wife and their baby son, who Layla still hadn't met. Their relationship was strained and she'd only seen him around four times in the past two years, even when they were living five minutes apart in London. When Debbie El's publishing company transferred her to the States, it only seemed right that mother and daughter moved together despite the further gap this would drive between Layla and her dad Steve.

"Layla's a very social girl. I'm sure she'll have no problem fitting in." Debbie said brightly.

"Well, Mrs El, she'll be shown around by one of our most loved students who I'm sure will introduce her to some good kids-" A knock at the door stopped Winston mid-sentence. "That must be him now. Come in, John."

God bless America. Layla had to bite down on her lip to stop herself smiling like a lunatic. This guy was clearly the 'jock' but damn, he looked like something out of an Abercrombie & Fitch campaign. He had a handsome face, warm eyes, short brown hair and one of the most natural smiles Layla had ever seen. And where was she meant to begin on that body? His grey t-shirt wasn't even tight and she could see his ripped abs and muscular arms. He looked like a Greek God...except he was America...to say Layla was flustered was an understatement.

"John, this is Layla El, our new student from England." Winston made introductions. "Layla, this is John Cena, your tour guide."

"Pleasure to meet you." He nodded politely at both Miss El and Mrs El, who looked as if she were about to release her inner cougar.

After Principal Winston ushered them both off, John and Layla walked through the school, him giving the new student a tour before classes began. It was still early and students were just filtering onto the high school campus. "So, not wanting to sound clichéd but how're you finding America?"

"I feel like I'm in a teen movie." She observed utterly serious, making John laugh. "Honestly! At my old school in England, there are no lockers and bells, we don't sit at those weird single desks and principals are called head teachers or head masters. This is like...a completely different planet."

"Give it a month and I bet you'll be a hot dog eating, baseball cap wearing Yank that calls 'football' soccer." John grinned.

"Never will the word soccer leave my lips." She paused. "Okay, ignore that. Starting now, that word will never leave my lips."

Layla had to admit, the school was nice. It was no wonder her mother was so keen for her to go there, it looked like something out of a story book. On the outside, it resembled an old British boarding school but with lockers and all the students being American.

"What've you got first period?" John scanned Layla's timetable whilst she struggled with her locker. "Snap. English with Miss Martin."

Turning around from her locker, Layla mocked surprise. "What? You Americans read?"

"You know what else? Not all of us are fat hillbillies that have been in the audience for Jerry Springer."

"You learn something new every day."

With a smile, John leaned over and opened Layla's locker with ease. "I like you already, Layla El."


"I know America's role in World War Two is hardly a thrilling topic but I can tell you're definitely not feeling this." Dolph watched Mickie from across their table in the library. A history textbook sat in front of the brunette but she wasn't even looking at it; her chin was rested on her fist and she was staring into space, completely oblivious to everyone around her.

"Huh?" She snapped back to reality and looked at Dolph, who'd already made a couple of pages of notes. "Sorry, I'm not being very helpful, am I?"

"Not really but its okay, we've still got a couple of days left to do it."

"Yeah but there's no point putting it off." She rifled through her papers until she found the article she was looking for. "I'll make the slideshow after school and send it to you when it's done so you can make any corrections you think I need to."

"That sounds good." Dolph gathered up his books and piled them into his backpack, before glancing over at Mickie who'd once again gone off into a daydream. He lightly nudged her shoulder and said "Mickie?"

"Sorry." She apologized. "I'm just...tired."

That wasn't a total lie. Mickie was tired but her lack of concentration had become a recurring thing. It was something she found very difficult to both control and accept; she was a straight A student and the front-runner for valedictorian in senior year and here she was, unable to finish a simple history project. Maria's death had hit her almost as hard as the Land Rover that flew at their car and she was definitely finding it difficult to refocus.

"Listen, you're clearly not in the mood to do this today and that's fine." Dolph began gathering up his books. "Tomorrow afterschool; we can meet then. It'll be fine."

The brunette nodded and watched as Dolph walked out of the library, leaving her sat alone at her table, staring at Maria's notes. The ink on the page still smelt fresh as she thought of her step-sister, sat at the desk in her bedroom scribbling into her polkadot notepad and chewing on the edge of her pen.

"Layla, I'm serious, see that librarian over there? Everyone is convinced her husband is tied up in a cupboard somewhere in their house."

A bookshelf separated Mickie from John Cena but it was only when Dolph left that she heard his voice. His comment was responded by female laughter that Mickie didn't recognise. Subtly, she peeked through the rows of books and saw John sat at a table with an unfamiliar girl.

Mickie had heard there was a new girl coming and she assumed that must have been her. Layla was one of the prettiest girls that Mickie had ever seen, genuinely stunning. She was of some sort of foreign descent, possibly Moroccan but she spoke with a British accent. Her hair was shoulder-length and silky brown whilst her skin was flawless. The exotic beauty wore white skinny jeans and a black tank-top but pulled off the simple attire to perfection.

The way John and Layla were sat made them look close, almost couple-like. They were sat side-by-side but were both facing inwards, their knees practically touching under the table. The work they'd been doing had been pushed aside and they just simply talking, laughing and occasionally hushing each other if they gained the attention of the librarians.

Not saying anything but feeling even worse than she had before, Mickie gathered up her notes and left the library.


His whole life, Jeff Hardy had been told he was a dreamer. Everyone that met him told him so, not to mention it was written on virtually every report card he had ever received. When he was in class, it was often just easier to drift into another world than stay in the boredom of reality.

Sometimes this was a good attribute to have; it art, English and even music, he excelled and was the dark horse of the class when it came to his grades. It didn't help, however, when it came to math and science, as the youngest Hardy sat at his kitchen table, slaving over his algebra homework. To him, it was just a bunch of numbers and letters pushed together for no purpose other than to confuse him. He couldn't afford another low mark on a test though, or it'd be detentions every night for two weeks. Mr Oman could be a real douche bag when he wanted to be.

"Are you okay, honey?" His mother Elizabeth asked from the sink, where she was washing up the dishes from dinner. The stay-at-home mom took off her rubber gloves and came over to see what her son was doing.

"Algebra." Jeff replied, matter-of-factly.

"I always hated math in high school. Your father's good at this kind of thing." His father – the college math lecturer – was good at this kind of thing; only problem was he was in the middle of one of his after dinner naps and it was practically a sin in the Hardy house to wake him. Elizabeth knew this, as she quickly said "Matt might have something that'll help you?"

Jeff scoffed. Matt hated school, full-stop.

"Well, he has drawers full of school books he hasn't touched. In fact, I remember cleaning in there a couple of months ago and finding a math study guide – there might be something in there that could help you. Go have a look."

Another scoff came from Jeff. The older Hardy was at Eve's house for the evening and even when he was at home, he was ridiculously private when it came to his bedroom.

"There's no harm in looking."

Knowing his mother would persist until he looked Jeff got up from the kitchen table and went upstairs. He hesitated for a moment before entering the room.

It was no wonder he never let anyone inside, the place was an absolute tip. Half-worn clothes were scattered across the floor, a pile of plates and cups sat on his desk, waiting to be washed and his bed didn't look as if it had been made in weeks. Jeff didn't claim to be a saint when it came to cleaning but he was nowhere near as bad as Matt. The only pristine thing about Matt's bedroom was a pile of laundry their mother had dropped off that morning – Elizabeth had given up on cleaning Matt's pigsty and now only breezed through to make sure his clothes didn't smell.

Wondering if he might stumble across a rodent of some sort, Jeff went over to the drawers of Matt's desk. Rifling through, he found a selection of books, all as untouched as the day they were bought; a copy of The Tempest and a copy of Twelfth Night from when he studied Shakespeare, a biology textbook and a binder on President Roosevelt's time in office but underneath all the knowledge lay something Jeff didn't expect to find.

He tentatively picked up the pair of underwear that had been shoved to the bottom of the drawer; a blue thong with a silk butterfly on the back. His instant reaction would've led him to believe it belonged to Eve but an incident that had occurred a couple of months prior told Jeff this wasn't the case...

The crowded halls of Fitzpatrick could be a nightmare between classes, especially for those trying to get stuff from their lockers. Jeff discovered long ago that if you stayed close to the walls, you were in safe territory. Everyone said the time between classes was a great time to social with people, especially those with lockers around yours. Considering on one side of Jeff's locker was the relatively new and extremely stuck-up French-Canadian stunner Maryse Ouellet and the other side was the freshman Thai student that spoke limited English, Jeff decided that maybe this wasn't the case.

There was one good thing about being 'locker buddies' with Maryse; often Maria would come and visit the blonde. Today was one of those days, as Maria, Maryse and Eve were all stood within Jeff's earshot. Every so often, he was able to glance over at Maria; today she looked beautiful, in a simple grey scoop-neck t-shirt and some black skinny jeans with her hair tied up in a ponytail.

"Can you believe that test Oman set? Question five was just plain mean." Eve complained, holding her books close to her chest.

"Come on Eve, you do amazing in every test you do. This one will be no different." Maria reassured her friend, stepping out into the hallway to playfully slap her friend's arm. As she stepped out, one freshman rushed past, shoulder tackling the redhead and knocking her school bag right off her shoulder.

"Hey, watch where you're going, loser!" Maryse yelled after the kid.

"It's fine Maryse. None of my stuff even fell out." Maria bent over to pick up her bag and as she did, Jeff found it impossible not to look as a butterfly poked out from under her jeans, folding over the top of her silver belt.

"Nice butterfly." Maryse smirked as Maria straightened up.

"I don't like thongs." Eve commented with a frown. "Matt really likes me in them but I just find them...uncomfortable."

"I thought it was cute." The redhead said with a curt smile, before the three girls disappeared down the hall.

...What was Matt doing with Maria's underwear? Only one thought seemed to spring into Jeff's mind but he couldn't comprehend the possibility of it ever happening. What seemed like the wisest choice was to put the underwear back where he found it and pretend he never found anything.

"Did you find anything?" His mother called from the kitchen.

He certainly found something.


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Next time Jeff tries to confront Matt about Maria and Eve climbs the social ladder.