Buffy stood on the steps of her new school and took stock. Sunnydale High. Her life and hell for the next few years of her life. Students filled the large, open courtyard, some lounging on benches, some leaning against the warm red stone pillars, some wandering about. Palm trees were spaced stragetically around the area, and the overall effect was sunny and welcoming.
Striding through one of the double doors, she couldn't help but feel overwhelmed. While with a good dose of self-confidence, Buffy was by no means strong enough to take in a new school, a new place and new people without feeling a little intimidated and lonely. She remained inconspicuous as she made her way to where she thought her first class was, her eyes scouting out the territory and the other teens. She'd purposefully chosen her outfit to be attractive but not eye-catching or drool-worthy- she was wearing a close-fitting dark denim skirt which ended just above her knees, and a white V-neck cheesecloth top.
She fumbled with her locker key, checking the number printed on it, and opened the metal door. She tacked a few obligatory posters and photos up, as well as a small mirror. The photos were mainly of the friends she'd left behind in L.A.- Willow and Xander. She shoved a few books into the empty space and slammed the door shut, leaning against it to view the thoroughfare. She carefully looked at each face as it passed her, calculating the amount of friendliness in their eyes, the openness of their expressions. Eventually, a passing girl noticed, and stopped, looking her up and down. Her cloud of clones flocked around her like carrion.
She eyed Buffy's dusky pink pumps critically, and tossed her dark hair. The brunette herself was dressed more like she was attending a cocktail party, rather than a school lesson. A red silk sundress clung to her curves, a pair of black kitten heels adorned her feet, and the ensemble was finished by a silver chain with a onyx droplet hanging from it. Her lips were the red of black cherries.
"Well, if it isn't Anne of Green Tables." the girl quipped snarkily.
A nearby underling, the only one carrying books, gulped nervously and tentatively corrected her, "Uh, Cordelia, it's Green Gables, not Tables."
Cordelia spun around with a glare that could melt steels. "Do I look like I care?"
She turned back to Buffy, and smiled a mincing, saccharine-sweet smile. "It's so hard to find good help these days. I'm afraid poor Hannah just doen't make the cut. You do look like you have potential though. You'd be just right for, oh, cleaning the bathroom."
Dismissing the blonde newcomer, the unofficial queen of Sunnydale High departed, her Cordettes trailing behind her like ripples in a pond, insignificant besides the regal duck that created them. Buffy snorted to herself. She knew that sort of girl, and could handle her perfectly well. But first, she had to know her territory and get used to the people and the place.
Sick of the way she'd been avoided and treated with suspicion in her previous three classes, Buffy slid into the desk she had been assigned, and tilted her head to see her Biology partner better. He was calmly gazing at her, and deciding to withhold his estimation of her until further notice, or further information in this case, extended his hand with gravity. He simply stated, "Oz."
Buffy flashed him a bright smile, and took the proffered limb. He wasn't a hottie, but there was a non-judgemental air about him, as if this guy went deeper than you could see. "Buffy."
His lip curled up dryly, as though she had passed muster with her concise answer, but merely looked to the instructions on the blackboard. "You gonna slice, or should I?"
Forty minutes later, the bell rang, and Buffy slung her bag over her should with a smile. She'd actually enjoyed Bio for once; Oz had made it amusing for her with his ironic comments. He nodded once to her, and exited through the door. She felt a little disappointed. She hadn't exactly expected to become best buddies with him, but she'd been hoping that he'd ask her to sit with him and his friends at lunch, so that she wouldn't be at a table all by her lonesome.