"It's the good girls who keep diaries; the bad girls never have the time." – Tallulah Bankhead
A neon glow floods the room. It gives the place a definitive 'cheap motel' vibe. From one side of the room a groan sounds followed by muffled but distinctive cursing, as Haley buries herself further and further under the covers. On the other side, a girl smirks. From far, she seems pleasant enough with her red haired bunched on top of her head and grey striped pyjama bottoms trailing the floor. On closer inspection, however, it is hard to miss the fake breasts and perfectly sculpted nose. Also, that smirk is anything but friendly.
"Rise and shine sweetheart!" calls out the redhead, her accent mock southern, her tone high-pitched, obviously put on just to aggravate Haley. Haley responds with a snarl as she throws off the covers. This, though, does nothing to bother the redhead as she saunters into the bathroom, a pair of jeans and a top flung over one shoulder. Climbing out of bed, Haley marches over to the bathroom. Upon arriving at its door, eyes still shut, she bangs on it. "Whore, if your $$ is not out of the bathroom in five minutes, I will personally come in and pull it out, no matter how the gruesome the sight before me is!" Her tone is menacing and the fact that sleep still sits smack dab in the middle of her forehead does nothing to ease the situation.
About a half hour later, the scowl still apparent on her face, Haley sits in the middle of a crowded dining hall. She looks around. The benches are painted a sort of puke yellow with walls that match. Haley wonders if the decorator might have been blind. She hears laughing to her left and turns to see a group of girls, laughing very openly at her. She isn't surprised that the redhead is leading them on. Rolling her eyes, she can't help thinking that even when she's not in high school she can't seem to escape it. Out of her leather jacket she pulls a book, 'Of Human Bondage', and sets it beside her. Then, she plugs in headphones to her new video iPod – her dad's latest bribe – and shuffles through the playlist. The iPod doesn't go unnoticed by the redhead who takes that opportunity to speak up, and loudly, so that no one misses it.
"Look what we have here. It's little miss debutante. Did Daddy throw you out because you were spending all his money on big bad cigarettes? Is that it honey?" Her posse laughs in unison, as if they've been practicing.
To this, Haley just smiles. Standing up, she walks coolly over to the redhead. Leaning in front of her face, she says, "Uh Rachel honey, you may want to look in the mirror before calling me a debutante 'cause far as I know, such big breasts didn't come from just a couple of bucks."
This time her posse doesn't laugh.
"Nicely done." Haley turns to her left to find a curly blonde spooning what seems to be grey mush onto her plate. The girl continues talking, "the last time I saw someone diss Rachel so bad was probably me, about a month ago. I'm Peyton by the way."
"Haley James." She's about to say more but a whistle is blown and the woman behind it starts speaking.
"Good Morning to you all. Now, for those of you doing community service today, there will be a bus leaving in half an hour for Raleigh Middle School. There you will each tutor one student depending on your own academic levels in different subjects. If you are unable to tutor because of below average academic levels you will be helping our janitorial staff over there. Now for the rest of you who have been assigned work here on the premises…"
Her voice drones on, but Haley who knows she's doing community service chooses to block the rest out and turns to Peyton. "Who's that?"
"Morgan Allison, director of this place. Didn't you meet her at orientation? I thought that was regulation."
"Yeah well, I'm not an early morning person and so when my dad woke me for it at seven am, I told him to fk off and only to come back once the clock had gone past twelve and he was holding a cup of black coffee. Apparently that was too late. Oh well…" She smirks cheekily.
"James, you're more badass than I thought."
"That's what I've been told."
Half an hour later, Haley climbs onto a bus which seems to have been painted to match the dining hall. She scours the bus for a seat and her eyes land on one. Unfortunately, it's not completely empty. Even more unfortunate is that its occupant is none other than Nathan Scott. She's just forgotten about the incidents of early this morning and now she's sure her memory will once again be refreshed. Sitting down sullenly, she turns her head away from him and starts reading, hoping that he won't even notice her. Of course, she's never been the kind with luck on her side.
He smirks in her direction and pulls down the book from in front of her face. "Listen James, about last night – "
She cuts him off. "Nuh-uh. This –" she motions between him and herself, "– it's not happening. What you saw was a one time thing only. It in no way means that we are even remotely close to a friendship of any sort. If you think that I need your shoulder to lean on, or further, your dick to stroke, you're in way over your head. I don't know you and you don't me. Let's keep it that way shall we? Otherwise, you may end up without a dick for anyone to stroke."
"You're feisty." He leans towards her, and whispering in her ear as she gives him a death glare he says, "That's a really big turn on."