A/N: I do not own Gone With The Wind.
I'd like to thank all my reviewers: greensaphire, Delilah Twain, Jacina night feather, Joyanne, and Gally619.
The next day, the whole school was talking about the party. The girls, especially, were excited. The idea of a bunch of Harvard students was particularly interesting. They'd seen Ivy-Leaguers before, of course, but at parents' parties, dressed in tuxedoes and discussing the impact of the Aztecs on the modern-day world or something. That night, they would be wearing casual clothes, drinking, playing beer pong, and (the female population of Lincoln High hoped) hooking up. Everyone would be there, so it was lucky the Calvert's lived in a huge mansion in the countryside, where the neighbors were unlikely to report that there was a bunch of drunk teenagers getting high in the respectable backyard of the respectable Mr. Calvert.
The boys also were excited, and Scarlett noted with flattered amusement that they were paying special attention to her, all secretly hoping that she would agree to dance with them, yet knowing the odds were low. The afore-mentioned Lady herself was currently in French class, eyeing Mr. Guillouet warily as he shouted something that she couldn't understand, spit flying from his mouth. Mr. Guillouet, or the Drunk, as everyone referred to him, was going through one of his "bad phases." A "bad phase" was basically when his wife tired of his getting drunk every night and confiscated all his liquor, after which he went through this weird withdrawal where he would be as nasty as possible to everyone, including said wife, who would then become so tired of him she would leave. This meant that for a couple of days everyone got bad grades, the more sensitive girls were reduced to tears, and his colleagues stayed out of the teacher's lounge for fear of crossing him there. Yet no one really minded, because they knew that soon he would be so miserable he'd start drinking again, would apologize to his wife, she would come back, and Mr. Guillouet would once again become the happy, hungover man they knew and loved. At the moment, however, he was attacking a boy who had done the crime of slouching.
"Mr. Cesar. Tenez-vous droit!" he howled as the poor boy cowered, "cecis n'est pas un zoo, Mr. Cesar, c'est une classe de Francais, la belle langue que vous petit cons croyaient que vous pouvaient vraiment apprendre! Vous etent des idiots! Des idiots, je vous dis!" Scarlett looked at him curiously, wondering what he was saying. "Des petits cons. Vous etent des bons-a- rien! Rien que des bons-a-rien, je vous dis. Tous les Americains son des bon-a–rien, en faite. Les Francais, voila une bonne race. Les Francais sont beaus, inteligents, et gentils-"
"Psssst!" a voice hissed. Scarlett turned around in shock. Someone was actually stupid enough to talk without permission when the Drunk was in this mood? I should've guessed, she thought when she saw it was Cath. She gave the girl a look that said quite clearly "not now," before turning around again. Though not clearly enough, apparently, because a second later she felt a note hit her back. Dropping her pen purposefully, she grabbed the piece of paper as she leaned down to retrieve it. Wat u werin tonite? Scarlett read, not even bothering to raise her eyebrows at the handwriting. Turning it around, she quickly scrawled My green top and some dark blue jeans. U? Quickly glancing at the teacher, who was now howling at some girl foolish enough to breathe too loudly (said girl had asthma). Taking advantage of this opportunity, she quickly tossed it to Cath before bending over her French notebook with a look of total concentration on her face. A minute later, she felt the note again. This time she chose to pick it up with her feet, and again she glanced at the teacher before trying to read it. Mr. Guillouet was now prowling around looking for a new victim while the asthmatic girl sobbed in the background. No way, she thought in alarm, and stuffed the slip in her pocket.
"Guess what!" Cath whispered at the end of class as they both scurried away from the teacher, fearful of catching one of the many detentions he was handing out. Scarlett rolled her eyes. Why did everyone in this damned school greet each other with "Guess What?" It was really annoying.
"Tell me," she answered the usual reply, dodging a pair of sophomores that had been trying to feel her up.
"Well, Frank's bringing a guest to the party," she said cheerfully.
"And how exactly do you know that earth-shattering bit of news?" Scarlett asked, albeit a bit sarcastically.
"He asked me if he could take him," was the answer, and Scarlett rolled her eyes, exasperated. That was just like Frank, to ask about something like that. He didn't understand that, when it came to high school parties, the motto was "the more, the merrier!" It was typical, really. Scarlett sighed, reproaching herself. Why did she always have to be severe on Frank? He was a good guy, very nice and polite; the problem was his lack of confidence. It always bugged her, the way he stuttered, rarely spoke unless spoken to, always asked if he was doing the right thing. Dear Lord, the man was twenty! One would think he could take care of himself.
"Who's he bringin'?" she asked Cath, who was currently batting her eyelashes at a pair of seniors.
"Some guy called Rhett Butler," her friend answered. "Apparently he's real hot," she was obviously pleased by this.
"And how do you happen to know that?"
"I asked Kennedy!" Cath replied, obviously thinking this was a very normal procedure. Scarlett gaped at her.
"You're kidding!"
"Not very funny if I am."
"You seriously asked a guy if another guy was hot?!" she knew the answer even as she spoke.
"Of course! Why not?" It was obvious Cath was bemused by Scarlett's shock.
"Because…Because…," Scarlett spluttered, suddenly not sure of the answer herself. "Because it isn't done, that's why," she finally answered.
"So what?" Cath replied, "don't you always say rules are made to be broken?"
Rhett Butler lounged in his chair, bored. He wished he hadn't come to visit Frank Kennedy. He had known his mother, and had respected her a great deal. Hearing that her son lived in Atlanta, he had visited him while in town for some business; something he now regretted. Frank Kennedy had none of that courage and strength Rhett had admired so much in his mother; in fact he seemed a bit like a loser, as was demonstrated by the fact he would be going to a high school party in several minutes. And dragging me along too, Rhett thought gloomily. This was what annoyed him the most. He had not come to Atlanta to spend the evening watching rich teenagers get drunk, which was what was going to happen that night for sure. Oh well, he thought with a sigh, if you don't like it, lump it.
Nine o'clock found a very cheerful Scarlett sitting in a chair, with a glass of brandy in one hand, surrounded by a crowd of adoring Harvard Boys. She had been skeptical at first; especially put off by the boy's "I'm from Harvard. Worship me," attitude. But after a good hour of flirting with them, they started to act in "Scarlett's perfect. Worship her," way that was much more pleasing to her, and she found herself being plied with alcohol while the students surrounded her with identical expressions of love on their faces. She was enjoying herself immensely. Everyone of Lincoln High was here, as well as a lot of guys from Georgia State who would probably be kissing her feet too if the Harvaders had let them; as it was, they were stuck far away, looking at her with a wistful expression that delighted Scarlett. At that moment, a boy jostled her, startling her out of her daydream. Someone, Scarlett believed he was called Charles, immediately started to apologize profusely. Dimpling at him, she said "Oh, no worries. It was an accident. You're Charles, right?" Obviously delighted at being remembered by her, he nodded vigorously. "Well," she said flashing her dimples at him again "you're certainly at handsome boys, aren't you?" He was, actually, but it would've been nice if he didn't look so much like a calf. "Will you do me the another of getting me some chips?" At this, Charles looked so overcome Scarlett worried slightly he would faint. However, he pulled himself together and after stuttering a reply, he rushed off. At this, another boy (Tony, was it? Scarlett wondered briefly) gave her an annoyed look.
"I could've gotten them myself you know."
"I know," she replied soothingly, "but then who would've kept me company?" at which he suddenly looked delighted. Another boy tapped her shoulder, and she turned around, dimple ready, only to find herself facing Frank Kennedy, a disgruntled Suellen, and someone she had never seen before. He was a tall man, looked older than all the boys there, and had dark skin and jet black hair. He was dressed with such impeccable taste one would almost think he was gay, if it weren't for his eyes. Scarlett had never seen eyes that dark, and she felt her breath catch as they met his. They were mocking, insolent, and, worst of all, seemed to know she cared nothing about all the boys surrounding her. Scarlett disliked him at once, especially annoyed by his "devil-may-care" appearance. For a moment their gaze locked, before Scarlett was recalled by Sue's voice, saying: "Scarlett, this is Rhett Butler. Frank wanted me to introduce him to you, although I don't know why it should matter to you, since you only care about yourself!" This was said spitefully, and Scarlett opened her mouth, with a bitter retort on the tip of her tongue, but Frank spoke before her.
"Now, now, Suellen. Surely there's no need to-" Scarlett looked at her sister, a plan forming in her mind.
"Oh Frank, don't bother. Suellen's a nasty thing, and you shouldn't bother trying to sweeten her, though it is very gentleman-like," at which she batted her eyes flirtatiously. Kennedy blushed, obviously unsure of himself; Suellen looked at her sister with indignant outrage; and the Butler man raised an eyebrow, a slight smirk on his face.
"Well, you know-" Frank said, before trailing off with another blush.
"Since you seem to be so gallant tonight,will you do me the honor of getting me a glass of Coke?" again she dimpled at him, quite sure of his answere.
"It would be a pleasure, Scarlett," he stuttered, obviously not believing his good fortune. He dashed off, followed by Suellen after she gave her sister a murderous look, to wish Scarlett responded with a malicious smile. She had no doubt that Sue had gone to stop Frank from his errand, but she found she didn't care. The look on her sister's face was priceless. Sheturned around and discovered she was then left alone (well, as alone as you can be with a mob of fans around you) with Rhett Butler.
"Such kindness to your sister's boyfriend. Why, I don't think I've ever seen anyone who tried so hard to please someone out of devotion to their sibling!" he said. Scarlett narrowed her eyes. From anyone else, this would have seemed like a compliment, but their was something in his sarcastic voice, sardonic smile, and ironic black eyes, that made her quite sure he was mocking her. But she decided to act as though she hadn't noticed. After all, she reasoned, you catch more flies with honey than vinegar.
"Thank you. My sister and I have always been very…close," she replied, though it was obvious from the look in Rhett's eyes he didn't believe her.
"Such familial devotion is very touching, especially in these times, where sisters are involved in continual spats that only end when they reach twenty," he bowed as he said this, "it's very…lady-like… of both of you." Scarlett reddened suddenly, and her brows lowered dangerously. She opened her mouth, a sharp retort on the tip of her tongue, when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She gazed angrily at Charles, who had come back and was holding out a plateful of chips to her, obviously intimated. She dealt with him, and turned back to Rhett, ready to continue the discussion, only to find he was gone.
A/N: Okay, here's chapter 2. Rhett's joined us. I know this chapter sucks, but I've been having tons of homework and no time to write. Well, at least it's an update. By the by, the French monologue of Mr. Guillouet was saying " Mr. Cesar, sit up. This is not a zoo but a French class, the beautiful language you idiots actually thought you could learn. The French, however, are wonderful…smart, handsome, nice…" You get my drift (I'm half French, by the way). So, next update will probably be in a week.