It was the beginning of October. Meghan had been in England for just over a month. And now she was standing, with Luke, in front of his school. It had been a 'walk day', and she had stopped there on her way to the academy. The two had made plans.

"Are you ready?" Luke asked her.

"Yes." she answered promptly.

"Are you sure? You know there'll be no turning back."

Meghan looked away for a second.

"I'm sure." she said. "I don't want to hide anymore."

"Well," he said, "you won't be able to hide after this."

She looked at him questioningly.

"It's not like we'll be running naked or something." she told him.

"No, it's not." he agreed. "But it might as well be."

The two walked straight across the street.

"Alright, here we go." he said, as they turned to walk toward Meghan's school.

And he simply slipped his hand through Meghan's. A small, simple gesture. And yet, it was all they had to do.

For as soon as their hands linked together, Meghan had stepped over the edge of the cliff of normalcy. All at once, everyone in the general area turned their eyes on them. Then, a flash! out of nowhere. Another one. Another one. Meghan turned her head this way and that, to see where they were coming from, while Luke only knowingly looked on.

"Wh-where's that coming from?" she asked him, starting to feel alarmed.

"They're photographers." he told her. "They're always here. Anywhere the socialites frequent."

"For the...tabloids?!"

"Yes. For the tabloids. And magazines. And even the newspaper. Meghan, I'm sorry, but I warned you."

She kept turning her head spasmatically, like a hamster in a maze. "I...what..."

At this, Luke squeezed her hand reassuringly.

"Don't you worry. Nothing to fret about. You're only experiencing what I go through every day and going through it with me. And I wouldn't be doing this, or putting you through this, if I didn't honestly believe that we have something special."

She looked up at him, comforted, once more, by the certainty of his voice.

He looked back and smiled for a moment, before suddenly stepping protectively in front of Meghan.

"You! STOP! Get out of here!" he yelled at a bumbling photographer who'd just jumped in front of them, out of nowhere. The man immediately hobbled a few feet away, but not before getting a good close-up of the pair. He stopped to get a few more as Luke and Meghan quickened their pace.

"So...I'm guessing they know it's you. I mean, over here."

"Pretty much. I mean, the likelihood of my being somewhere around the school I attend is very high."

They reached the front of the school, and before Meghan had a chance to say anything more, she was interrupted by the sound of a catfight.

Wait, no - it was just Clarissa. Shrieking.

This was so startling to Meghan that she screamed a bit as well. But that might have partly been because today, Clarissa's grandfather had ridden to school with her - and had leaned his head out of the car window to see what she was fussing about.

Luke, who had been considerably startled as well, stopped, and took a small step back.

"LUCAS!!!!!! You...you PIG!!!!"

"Clarissa." Luke said, trying to be calm. "Now, let's be reasonable-"

"I HATE YOU!"

She then ran off in a rage, with all of her girl minions running off to comfort her. They were followed by Alastair, who'd stepped out of the car in haste. He growled a simple "How dare you?!" at Luke, and then proceeded to lock his eyes on Meghan, seemingly drilling holes into her face, before turning to fast-walk into the school.

Luke, who actually seemed pretty unfazed by the man's remark, turned to Meghan - and realized that she was breathing very heavily.

"Meghan...are you alright?"

"I...I don't know."

"Don't mind them. Please. They're just rubbish."

He pulled her close, and she leaned her head against his shoulder, very anguished.

"Rubbish, I tell you. That's all." he repeated.

"You don't understand." she shakily whimpered. "You don't know. But they can do things."

He looked down at her, puzzled.

"Now, that's just nonsense. They can't do anything to you. I swear, I won't let them."

Meghan wanted to let that comfort her, but it didn't. Because he really didn't understand. He couldn't.

"Are you afraid to go in?" he asked her.

Meghan was silent for a few seconds.

"Yes. But I'm going in anyway. Just promise me something."

Luke keep his gaze on her, as the cameras erratically flashed behind them.

"Name it."

Meghan looked up to the sky, which was quickly gathering clouds.

"Promise me that whatever happens, you'll never turn your back. Promise me you'll always feel the way you do right now."

Luke wasn't sure why Meghan considered the situation so urgent, why she was so doubtful. Who cared what Clarissa thought, or what anyone else thought? In his mind, he really didn't need to make those promises to Meghan - he'd already made them to himself.

"Oh, yes. I promise. Scout's honor."

Meghan looked down.

"Please, Luke, be serious. I need you to really promise me. I can go in there if you do."

Luke placed his hand on her shoulder, and faced her straight in the eyes.

"Meghan Reynolds, I promise you. A million times, I promise you. And you had better believe me."

He grabbed her hand and squeezed it again as he raised his head. She looked away, but still squeezed his hand in return, before pulling away to walk into the school. She looked back to see him standing there, hands in his pockets, watching her go.

Meghan hoped she'd come out of that school alive, so that she'd see him - and her family - once again.

The American girl drew stares, upon stares, upon stares - everywhere she went. What she and Luke were doing was revolutionary. No one could believe it.

That's not to say that everyone was hating her for it, however. In fact, most of Jasperstone's students found it not only quite intriguing, but considerably admirable as well. They were starting to feel that maybe, for once, power was shifting away from Clarissa and the rest of the dignified vultures that perched at the top of the social ladder, and into the hands of the general population. Into the hands of the normal people, as if for some reason, they were just as valuable, or just as important.

The teachers felt it too. And the staff. And the parents of those students, who'd seen the couple walking as they were dropping their offspring off at their designated schools. Surfer guy Ian had seen them too, and had shouted a rousing "Fight the power!", not quite sure what the phrase meant, when he'd seen them approach Clarissa.

Needless to say, Meghan was surprised when she saw people clapping as she walked by, as well as hearing the occasional shout of approval from behind her. Even Mr. Harlison, who was traditionally known for his spitting and biting criticisms, seemed brighter as he handed back Meghan's latest math test - with a B plus scrawled across the front. Ms. Blithe seemed a bit less droning as she apparently tried to keep from laughing at the pouting Clarissa who sat in the back.

"I'll get you, Reynolds! I'll get you!" the blonde had kept shouting. When the teacher couldn't help but let a small snicker leak out, the girl had immediately turned to face her and yell, "And you! I'll have you fired! So help me -"

This had caused practically the entire room to burst into laughter, and Ms. Blithe couldn't contain herself anymore as she fell forward in hilarity, banging her fists on her desk. And even Meghan couldn't help but smile.

So Meghan now walked the halls with a bit more poise and confidence, despite the fact that she was surrounded by a strange group of five girls - one indifferent, one oblivious, and three who'd taken to constant glaring. Yes, despite them, Meghan couldn't prevent herself from feeling some pride.

But then, of course, she had to lose it. That is, when she heard her name being called over the loudspeaker.

I thought I knew who my enemies were, and I was sure that Clarissa was the worst. But I couldn't have been more wrong.

For as I sat in the headmaster's office, with Mr. Ratfink staring me down, it became quite clear to me who the real enemy was. It was an enemy I shared with my aunt, one who seemed ready to turn a pending negotiation into a choice for me between retreat and war.

"Miss Reynolds, I'm afraid that a very serious matter has arisen. A certain Mr. Alastair Payne has apparently recommended that you be put up for expulsion, on the grounds of alleged harassment toward his granddaughter, Clarissa."

I. Am. So. Sick. Of. That. Name.

"What? I haven't been harassing - "

"Now, just wait a minute. I actually have discussed this matter with Mr. Payne, and was sure to point out that you haven't had any obvious malice toward his granddaughter. He seemed quite unconvinced, but fortunately for you, another voice was thrown into the equation. For as Mr. Payne and I reached about the halfway point of our conversation, I received a phone call - from none other than the incomparable Jocelyn Dashwood. And you can imagine my surprise when I realized that she was actually calling to defend your honor..."

Hold on...did I hear you right?

"Strangely enough, she'd already had her suspicions that he was going to 'pull this stunt' as she worded it, and her suspicions seemed to be confirmed when he didn't immediately return to the residence after seeing off his granddaughter. Well, that, combined with a certain news story about a new couple's arrival on the British social scene, that is."

News story?! What in all this world is going on?!

"Now, Alastair is a very powerful man in this city, but in regards to this school, Jocelyn oversteps that power. And she just happens to be the one person in the entire system that possesses one power in particular: the power to veto an expulsion. And you are one lucky girl, Miss Reynolds, because that's exactly what she's done."

Daphne's Grandma, you rock. Oh, you rock so hard.

"So...what does all this mean?" I said to Ratfink.

"Honestly, I do not know. Of course, I did relay to Lady Dashwood the story of your putting a stop to that juvenile prank a few weeks ago, of that you can be sure. But even she tends to take Mr. Payne's word quite seriously, and I therefore can't quite comprehend her complete disregard for his thoughts on this matter. She was quite adamant, indeed, that he not lay a finger on you."

Did I say you rock, Lady D? Because you do.

"Alastair was very displeased, of course. Furious, actually. But there was nothing he could do."

I was having a hard time trying to keep from smiling. In an attempt to retain a serious face, I pulled to the forefront the memory of this icy man shooting curse words and throwing things against the wall, telling myself that it would be better to wait until I've left the room before I let myself grin.

"As far as where you stand now," he said, very robotically, "you are on very thin ice, in the means that if you are caught personally doing anything to harass Miss Clarissa, you'll be thrown from this school, and in turn , this country, due to the loss of your scholarship. And this time, no one would be able to prevent it. But if there truly has been no harassment, I'd say you have nothing to worry about. Just know that you are being watched. Very closely."

Uh...okay. Whatever.

"Now, I have marked your records, because I am required to do so in situations such as these. But if you carry on through the rest of the school year without making another blemish, than the mark will be removed. I have your records here, if you would like to look them over."

He handed me a manila folder with a bunch of papers in it, papers that dated all the way back to my first day of kindergarten. Along with those was a basic transcript, with a dopey picture of me as well as my name, age, address, yada yada yada. But then my eyes came to a rest on something strange on the transcript...something I couldn't help but ponder.

This pondering was interrupted by the uncharacteristically nice headmaster as he spoke yet again.

"There is one other matter, Miss Reynolds, and I'm afraid it is a very grave one. Your acquaintance, Faye Winthrop, was discussed as well, in regards to the fact that she has been directly cited for harassment."

Okay...where are you going with this?

"Mr. Payne hadn't previously known about the girl, but as soon he heard the full story on what she had done, he immediately demanded that she be put up for expulsion as well. And I'm sorry to say that, at least thus far, no one has intercepted that demand."

Wait. What?

"Sir, I'm sorry, but everyone has it all wrong. This can't happen. She's innocent."

"I, too, am very sorry - but her records say just the opposite. Therefore, I must inform you that as we speak, those records are being analyzed by the school board. However, since she associates you - who acquired that rare veto from someone with whom you seem to be in good favor - special cicumstances are taking place. The girl has one month, no more, to acquire either a majority vote against the expulsion from the board or, as you have, one vote against it from Lady Dashwood. Without one of those things, she is as good as gone."

This can't be happening. It can't. All because of me...

"Please. There's got to be something I can do."

"Other than convince Mr. Payne to retract his request, I can't think of anything else. And that, of course, is beyond your ability."

This is all my fault. If it weren't for me, that conversation would've never happened, and that evil man wouldn't ever have known about Faye.

I don't know what I'm going to do. But I've got to do something.

There you go. Hip grandmas of the world, UNITE!

Next you'll find out what happens when someone is so thrown into the spotlight, as Meghan has been...

-rf-