Lizzie looked through her book bag and stomped her foot in frustration. "Damn it!"
She looked around. "Damn Tristan for distracting me and damn my locker for being across school."
As she was running across school, the space between her eyebrows wrinkled. "He's not even that cute, anyways."
She got to her locker and nearly screamed at the thing in the half-empty hall. It refused to open. She banged on it desperately, her wavy dark hair swinging needlessly.
When the lock finally popped, she grabbed her notebook and found herself lost in a hallway she had never seen before. There were two ways to go. To the right would take her back to her locker, the possibly longest way to get to history class. To the left might be a shortcut.
Lizzie grinned. Naturally, she would take the shortcut. She remembered that Tristan had said there was a way to get across the building by cutting through the gym. Those double doors with fading paint had to lead to the gym.
She pushed one of them open and her eyes widened. They really should mark the boys' locker rooms in a more clear fashion. Guys were desperately trying to wrap themselves in towels.
She was standing there, frozen, and hoping to God no one she knew was there.
"Hey, isn't that the new girl?"
"Looks like quite a Mary."
"Tristan said she was more of a Magdalene.. But just a tease.."
Those words made her mad enough to leave promptly, the door swinging behind her. She took off running towards her locker, the safest way to go. She looked at her watch. Five minutes until the last bell would ring. She could make it if she didn't trip as usual and if no one got in her way..
So naturally she had to trip on the shoelaces of her tacky saddle shoes.
Lizzie groaned, looking up at the crowd heading towards her from the direction she had just come from. Looking like he had just blow-dried his hair, making the fluorescent lights reflect in the bouncing blonde fluff, the crowd cleared to reveal Tristan, the exact reason why she was so late.
Lizzie pushed herself up, glowering and she took off on a sprint once more.
"Hey!" Someone shouted behind her. She didn't turn around, just kept running. The person caught up to her, his long legs much faster than her own pair. "Here."
She turned to face him. He wasn't all that bad, he was grinning and his shirt was barely tucked in, his tie and blazer nowhere to be seen and his shoes barely tied.
"You know, running in the halls and peeking in on the boys' locker rooms are both felonies here at Chilton, Magdalene. One more offense and you'll have a detention." He said, flashing her a pretty-boy grin and a yellow slip.
"Gee, thanks, Tristan." Lizzie muttered as she took off running again.
"NO RUNNING IN THE HALLS!" The boy called after her.
"You're late, Ms. Larabee. Oh, I see you have a yellow slip. Wow! Three offenses in ten minutes. Won't your cousin be proud?" The history teacher drawled, adding TARDY to Lizzie's list of offenses.
Lizzie slammed into the nearest empty seat and opened her history book to the page written on the board.
"To determine who began the War of the Roses is like asking how Henry the VIII managed to use the Bible against the Pope.."
A few people chuckled and Lizzie glared, not taking notes. Tristan DuGrey was going to pay.
Why were her rhyming skills only sharpened when she was upset?
Rory battled with herself. She had to do the right thing for Lizzie. She would have to keep those two apart. Paris glared at her over the table.
"Are you done?" Paris demanded.
Rory woke up from her trance and nodded, sliding the sheet across the table.
"Are you still dwelling on the whole Tristan/Lizzie possibility?" Paris asked wearily, rolling her eyes and handing Rory's article to some random newspaper minion.
"Urgh.. That Tristan DuGrey got me a detention on my first day!" Someone grumbled, slamming into a seat in front of them.
Paris shot Rory a knowing look. "Tell us all about it, Lizzie."
"See, first, he made me late because, he well, distracted me from getting my history book. I had some time to get across school and ended up going into the boys' locker room. Not only that, but I did some running to get to class, getting two offenses from some stupid Don Juan hall monitor and then I was late for History, and now I have a detention!" Lizzie pouted, slouching in her seat with her arms crossed.
"I don't want you hanging out with him, Lizzie." Rory said finally. "He's evil."
"Like I don't know that!" Lizzie exclaimed. "Geez, Rory, you'd think you'd have some more faith in me!"
Rory actually laughed. "Good, you have taste."
Lizzie snorted as she got her stuff. "More like delayed common sense. I'm going to go eat lunch."
Lizzie groaned when she saw the disgusting, steaming portion of red beans that had been plopped onto her plate. She rolled her eyes, grabbing a soda for a quick caffeine fix.
"Hey, Coffee Bean! Over here!" Tristan motioned for her to come over to his table. Lizzie was tempted for a moment, and hesitated, especially when she saw four boys from the boys' locker room (one of which had gotten her a detention).
But she headed over anyways, with a confident smile on her face. She put her tray down on the end of the table, picked up her plate, and turned it over in his lap.
She wasn't really hungry anyways. "That's for the detention, you demented, rumor-spreading jerk."
She picked up her tray again, and the boys at the table had burst out laughing as she walked away, swinging her hips. The 'hall monitor' hadn't bothered to give her a detention and the teachers hadn't been paying attention.
"What is your problem, Coffee Bean?" He shouted after her. She turned around sharply.
"Don't call me that!"
Tristan stumbled into the Franklin's office quickly before his next class.
"Tristan, what is that on your pants?" Rory asked wearily.
"That is the work of one wonderful Lizzie Larabee." Tristan snapped. "Rory, I'm not trying to hurt her, so please get that idea out of her head."
"Shut up, Tristan." Paris defended immediately. "Because of you, she got a detention. Ask Sean."
"What's for lunch today?" Rory asked Paris innocently.
Tristan's eyes narrowed. "Steaming hot red beans."
Paris and Rory's eyes zoomed in on the stains on Tristan's thighs and burst out laughing.
Tristan grinned uncomfortably. "I called her over to my table, she put down her tray, picked up her plate and turned it over above my lap."
They kept laughing, and Tristan stormed out of the Franklin's office on a search to get a detention.
"Magda, Magda, wished I'd had her, from the boys' room you hear her patter.." Tristan chanted softly in Lizzie's ear, and she nearly whipped around to face him angrily. "Magda, Magda, hear her chatter, and the beans plop with a splatter.."
"What are you doing in detention, oh angelic one?" Lizzie drawled, standing up and moving to another seat. He followed her, sitting down behind her again.
"Stalking you. It's simple. I follow you around, call you, e-mail you, suddenly pop up everywhere, all day, every day."
Lizzie groaned. What a beautiful first day this was turning out to be.
Lizzie stomped out of Chilton to a waiting Lorelei and Rory, leaning on the front of the car. Rory presented her with a Grande frappucino and smiled weakly.
"Come on, sister friend. You need to tell us about the day." Lorelei chirped. "On to Luke's."
Lizzie sighed, throwing her bag into the back. "It all started with our little get-to-know-me dinner the other night. And an annoying spoiled boy named Tristan."