Hey, Nin, hun, next time you want to give advice in a review, don't start it off with "Ew." And also, you should leave your email address so I can defend myself. I took your advice though and I think I'm gonna shorten her hair to her bust line. I was thinking about it before… but you're right. And her hair isn't stick straight anymore. It's definitely wavy and sleek, with side-part bangs. White blonde hair makes peoples skin look red so I'm changing that feature, it's dark blonde with red undertones, but it isn't even remotely orange. She ain't gonna be pale in this one either. Her skin is going to be golden with peachy undertones. Her eyes are heavily lidded and an odd dark blue with an almost black ring around the irises. And the freckles are light and run along the bridge of her nose. She's got high cheekbones and a small straight nose, her lips are full and wide and turned down a little. She has light, expressive, arched eyebrows, neatly waxed. She isn't skinny either. She probably wouldn't mind carving a pound off her butt, but she would never have to. She's curvy where she's supposed to be and does palates to keep her almost four pack tight.

She is, all in all, quite stunning.

But what do you want me to have her say. "Dear God! I'm fine! Move over Heidi Klum!"

Come on, nobody thinks like that.

Review and tell me if that is outlined enough. I'll add it into the prologue too, eventually.

Thanks. No hard feelings.

Syd

Victoria was on the dance floor with Tyler.

Vic wasn't a bad dancer. Nobody could ever claim that. But I happen to know from several appreciative dance partners I've had over the years that I'm "Smokin'". I take pride in that compliment, even though it's normally given to me by guys who don't even know my name.

And when I'm dressed like I am tonight—skin-tight soft red-leather lowriders, a halter top made out of tiny gold links that softly clink when I walk that ends about an inch above my pierced navel, with no back unless you count the little string holding it on—she liked to call me "sex personified". Which is a bit odd, considering I've never done the deed. I just like to make guys pant. Which they practically do when I smile at them. It's very satisfying, in a way.

To say this isn't the kind of outfit I wear normally would be one big understatement. The thing was, I really didn't want to go to this club Resic. Victoria had laid out clothes she thought I should wear—being the type of girl to think that I would look to her for approval—and I was ticked at her. I decided to go with the outfit I hadn't worn in over 8 months.

That would tick her off.

Victoria's the type that likes attention. She normally gets it, too. She has a very commanding presence. I recognized it the first day I met her. I like to think of myself as the opposite, subtle and smooth instead of loud and blunt. Not tonight. Me walking about in this skimpy attire definitely caught glances as I made my way over to the familiar couple. I stopped a couple feet away from them in the gyrating throb of bodies.

I quickly piled my hair on top of my head and started dancing. It's really annoying to be up against a guy with his sweat rubbing into your hair, I've found out. It's always better to keep it up or slung over your shoulder. But I happen to know that I look good with one arm bent and holding up my hair as I moved my hips.

I've been caught so many times, I'm not even embarrassed to say I dance in front of my mirror when the stereo is blasting out a new hit song.

I'd taken ballet for six years. It's wasn't as if I hadn't been in a studio with walls covered in mirrors before. Mirrors and dancing go side and side for me.

"Show off," Victoria laughed/yelled at me.

Tyler opened his mouth, but didn't get to express his appreciation over my now coatless self before another voice interrupted.

"Would you like to dance, Aurora?" he seemed amused.

I turned to see Will's uncle, Alex. He fit right in with the rest of the crowd. Black T-shirt and jeans. In the dark of the room he looked even more handsome.

I twined my arms around his neck and turned my body onto his, grinding my hips lightly on his front until I was low enough that my palms had eased down to his collar bone. I rolled my hips into his as I straightened.

"Love to," I purred in his ear.

His hands came to rest on my hips as I quickly twirled my hair up in a messy bun and secured it with a black hair band.

We danced well together and time seemed to fly by and slowly an ache started in my thighs. Dancing while bending your knees and occasionally dipping down really strains the muscles after a while.

"You're a beautiful woman, Rose," he breathed into my ear, pulling me flush against him. "And thorns don't bother me."

Pushing away from him I laughed a little.

"Goodnight, Alex," I smiled, and turned and walked away quickly to find Victoria.

She and Tyler tend to wander off when left by themselves.

I found her near the side of the dancing mob, lips locked with Tyler.

I probably should have been surprised. I wasn't. It wasn't as if they hadn't been a couple before. They were an off and on couple with a lot of resentment and anger during the 'off's.

I tapped on Tyler's shoulder and he pulled away from my friend to give me and annoyed look.

"Where's Brett?" I asked him before he could say something rude.

"Pissed at you," he answered shortly.

Did I mention Tyler's not that smart? I said, "Thanks. Where is he?"

He shrugged. Victoria was more helpful. "He was dancing with some blonde over there," she gestured with a wave of her hand.

"Alright." They resumed their previous activities, to my mild disgust, and I walked in the said direction.

Sure enough, Brett had a fake platinum blonde all over him. I guess I couldn't blame the girl. Brett is incredibly too good-looking to ignore and I really hadn't expected to find him skulking in a corner somewhere.

It was a little amusing to watch as the girl turned and pressed her back up against his chest and caught sight of me. Her eyes widened and she stopped moving quite so fast.

This is about the time when I should inform you I'm no dog. A bit of the opposite actually. I don't go out without some agent or photographer approaching at least once. And some of those guys are persistent. Vic has to tell them to get lost sometimes. And Victoria is not someone who says something like that politely.

So I could tell this girl, although very attractive herself, recognized immediately she was out of her class.

I stopped about two feet from the now still couple I watched as her mind raced through the two most commonly chosen options for this situation. Flee without a word or challenge me and see who Brett chose. She opted with flee.

She didn't get very far though because Brett grabbed her wrist and tugged her back.

I cocked an eyebrow.

"You danced with that guy," he stated calmly. There might have been some disapproval in his tone but I chose to ignore it. "I'm gonna dance with Crystelle."

The eyebrow rose higher. Crystelle? Oh, you have to be kidding me.

"He owns the place, Brett. We're here underage and some of our friends are drinking. Did you want me to turn him down?"

I didn't say: "Well, he's not bad looking and you are getting on my nerves."

I needed an older guy. A more mature man. That may have been one reason I didn't turn Alex down. Growing up in a boarding school like Brett, Victoria, I and everyone I knew had, we are more mature than the average eighteen-year-olds. We had to fend for ourselves with the exception of some caring teachers. But Brett's parents hadn't died, and he didn't have the emotional upheaval and stress that I had had. That makes a kid mature even faster.

"The owner's here?" the girl asked. She had a high voice. I looked at her in disbelief.

Crystelle was actually participating in the conversation. That bleach must have sunk through her scalp and tampered with her brain. A third party does not interrupt an arguing couple.

Well, I guess to her we didn't look upset. Brett and I have that in common. We come off as calm and serene when we're fighting with others.

I chose to ignore the idiot's question and looked back at Brett. "It was only dancing," I said. He scoffed. "I left him and came looking for you."

"After a half an hour," he stated, letting go of Crystelle and folding his arms over his chest. She recognized this as her dismissal and left.

"We can go longer," I smiled. He smiled back. Alex was in the past. Forgotten. The memory dismissed as easily as Crystelle. His little toy had returned after a bigger kid had played with it.

The reason I had been dating Brett for two months, a long time for me, was that he could put things like this behind us. We were fairly alike when it came to people. We had groups of close friends, but outsiders were just that. Outsiders. He was not one of my insiders and I don't think I was one of his.

He was mad about the Alex situation though, and I couldn't muster one ounce of jealousy for Crystelle. We differed in just a bit too many ways to be compatible for long. The relationship with Brett was coming to a close. Graduation was only a week off.

Brett grabbed me and we started moving and turning. We danced for an hour before he and I dragged Tyler and Victoria apart and drove back to our schools.

I snuck back into the room I shared with Jenny and changed into my Under Armor bright yellow sports bra and a pair of black shorts before crashing onto the bed.

Only eight days before the senior class of Berkley All-girls Boarding school went to Paris for our senior class trip.

Please review. It only takes 10 seconds. Just say "good job" or "Absolutely ghastly" and you're done!

Syd