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Chapter 2

*face palm* I am so sorry! Please forgive me for not updating in like what? A month? And for those of you who are oh-so-patiently waiting for a new chapter in I Promise, that will be the next story I update. I'm sorry for those of you who like Can't Touch This and Meet the Mini Pretties; I just don't have any inspiration right now.

- Anastasia

Massie's POV

One girl who was sitting by the door studied me as if I was an especially interesting specimen under a microscope. I smirked and gave her the once-over. Slick, shiny blonde-streaked chestnut curls held back with a pink-and-white polka-dot headband, full pink lips painted with a frosty shade of peach gloss, a delicate button-nose, electric emerald eyes, and impeccable uniform. I wrinkled my ski-jump nose at the tastelessly tacky headband and noted my approval at her vivid eyes and well-glossed lips. Like I made her on The Sims, she jumped out of her wooden desk and casually strolled up to me. "Hullo there, I'm Cecilia Lunes. Ceci for short." I warily shook her French-manicured hands and half-smiled.

"Massie Block."

"Aren't you the American girl?"

"Yes, yes I am."

"So where do you come from?"

"Westchester, New York."

"I've always wanted to visit New York," Cecilia said, a bit wistfully.

"Where you born here?"

"Actually, no."

"Oh, really? Where are you from then?"

"I just moved here recently from Chicago."

"But your accent is so-"

"Yes, a lot of people think I'm native. My mother was British and I kinda picked up her accent when I was younger."

"Ah."

"So do you want to hang out someti-"

"Miss Lunes! Please take your seat!"

The French teacher, Mademoiselle Bonlise, peered at Cecilia and me over her brown-patterned Kate Spade square-framed glasses. Cecilia cast me an apologetic glance and scurried back to her seat.

"Your name, Mademoiselle?"

"Massie Block."

"Oui. Mademoiselle May-sie Block, please sit here, merci." She pointed at Vagabond red-polished nail at the empty desk next to Cecilia. Cecilia and I shared the grin that best friends share when they get to be partners.

"Oui, Mademoiselle. And it's Massie, like sassy. Not May-sie."

"Oui, oui. Please sit, May-sie."

Rolling my eyes, I gingerly sat down on the rickety wooden chair and drew out my phone. I waved it at Cecilia until she noticed. Nodding, she pulled out her iPhone too. Cecilia slapped a strip of neon paper on my desk with a phone number written in slanted handwriting with black ink. I quickly programmed it into my contacts and texted her ay-sap.

Massie: Do u want 2 come 2 my castle after school?

Cecilia: U live in a castle?!

Massie: Yep. I sent a pic.

I watched Cecilia's vivid grass green eyes widen as she peeked at the picture of my castle.

Cecilia: Whoa! That's majorly cool.

Massie: Thx. U want 2 come over?

Cecilia: Defos.

As Mademoiselle Bonlise was about to speak, another girl rushed in. The girl slouched against the wall, panting and gasping; her long straight auburn locks swirling around her. I watched her sky blue eyes widen as Mademoiselle shot her a piercing glare.

"Name, mademoiselle?"

"Kari- pant- ssa- pant- Bla- pant- ke…" The girl choked out between gasps.

"Come again?" Mademoiselle asked, slightly peeved.

The girl blushed and repeated her name, this time a bit slower. "G'day mates, I'm Karissa Blake." Just like me and Cecilia, (okay, Cecilia not so much) this Karissa girl had an American accent. While glancing at her seating chart, Mademoiselle addressed Karissa, "Mademoiselle Blake, please sit next to May-sie." Annoyed, I glared at Mademoiselle. Karissa looked panicked and wildly looked around the room for me. I raised my hand and waved. "Hey Karissa. I'm Massie." I directed another frosty glare at Mademoiselle while introducing myself. Karissa nodded gratefully and dropped in her seat. I studied this other girl. With Aussie auburn hair and ice blue eyes, Karissa looked an awful lot like Dylan, except for the eyes. Her plump pink lips were coated with a fresh layer of glimmery red gloss. Giant gold hoops dangled from her earlobes and a sapphire-and-diamond necklace to match her eyes glistened on her chest. Rhinestone bobby pins held back her wildly messy auburn locks.

Now that I think of it, Cecilia was really very similar to Kristen. They were both tall, blonde, and had green eyes. Although Kristen's irises were always more of an aqua color. Karissa turned to me.

"Sorry, my car was a cactus and I was up late because I was chatting with a cobber back home; and my oldies were being knockers because I yabber too much. London to a brick, that whoever invented this bloody stupid time difference is annoying. Waking up early isn't exactly my bowl of rice."

Her car was a cactus? Basically I only understood two out of the 54 words that just spewed out of her glossy mouth. Go ahead, count the words. I'll wait. When she had introduced herself, I assumed that she was American. You have no idea how wrong I was. Her oldies were being knockers? What?!

"Um, Karissa- where are you from?"

"Why would you ask that, lolly?"

"Well, your accent isn't exactly British."

"Oh, goodo."

"What?!"

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm outback fresh."

"What?!"

"Sorry, cobber, I'm sorry for confusing you; I'm an Aussie with an accent."

"Yes, I do believe I noticed."

"Well, the Aussie lingo tends to come a bit stronger when I'm meeting new mates."

"I see."

"Hm… How about yourself, cobber?"

"Me?"

"Yes, you. Massie, your accent isn't exactly a normality here."

"Karissa! You just said an entire sentence I understood!"

"London to a brick, that won't happen again!"

"If you really must know, I'm from Westchester, New York."

"Oh, a New Yorker huh? Been to the States myself before. New York was ripper."

"Oh, that's nice. So what part of Australia do you come from, Karissa?"

"I come from Sydney, just a little bit off the coastline. The views were bonza!"

"My cobber once dared me to sneak into a store after it closed, and the boys in blue almost got us! But they said she'll be apples."

"Erm..."

"Well, it takes some time for new mates to nut out my lingo."

"Yes, it definitely will."

I reach into my deep red leather purse and text Cecilia again.

Massie: Thinking of starting a clique to dominate KISS… interested?

Cecilia: You bet!

Massie: Let's grab a private table at lunch.

Cecilia: Should we include Karissa?

Massie: Her Aussie lingo is a bit strong…

Cecilia: I like her, though. Lots of spunk.

Massie: Touché. New kids stick together.

Cecilia: Sticking to you like spandex on a fat person!

Massie: Ceci, you're gross!

Cecilia: You know you love me.

Massie: So you think.

I covered my mouth to stifle my giggles at Cecilia's spandex joke. I pictured Walter Myer; a fat kid at BOCD who couldn't do anything athletic for a billion dollars; in shiny gold spandex short-shorts sprinting. Ewwwwwwww! I scribbled on a royal purple sticky-note and tossed it onto Karissa's desk. I watched her sky blue irises widen and a devilish grin cross her face. My iPhone buzzed with a text.

Unknown Caller: Hullo, mate. Ace arvo huh?

Massie: Karissa.

I saved her number into my contacts and added Cecilia and Karissa as speed dials 7 and 8.

Karissa: New mates stick together eh?

Massie: Yup.

Cecilia: Sticking to you like spandex on a fat person!

Karissa: London to a brick, you sure are disgusting, Ceci.

I grinned from one earring-studded ear to the other like a Cheshire cat. I dug around in my red Balenciaga for a tube of gloss, and dabbed a bit of Glossip Girl's Vanilla Cupcake onto my mouth. Karissa giggled uncontrollably at Cecilia's spandex joke, catching Mademoiselle's attention. Shit. Her beady hawk gaze settled on me.

"Mademoiselle May-sie, please conjugate the verb, "to love".

Annoyed, I felt like going up to Mademoiselle Bonlise and bitch-slapping that smirk off of her wrinkled face.

"My name is Massie, like sassy. Not May-sie." I said very pointedly. Mademoiselle glared at me for a second but relented.

"Pardon me. Please proceed, Mademoiselle Block."

"J'aime."

"Tu aimes."

"Il aime."

"Nous aimons."

"Vous aimez."

"Ils aiment."

"Very good, Mademoiselle Block. Merci."

I roll my eyes in contempt. I learned this in French class back at OCD about a year and a half ago! She seriously didn't think I would know that? My head drops from the lack of sleep thanks to the dumb time difference, (maybe I do understand Karissa's Aussie lingo) and I doze off for what I thought was five seconds. Suddenly, I feel a sharp pain in my ribs. I slowly peeled open one eye-shadowed lid and glared at Karissa; who had poked me with her pencil. Karissa widens her eyes and looks meaningfully at the clock. I bolt up. First period is over in two minutes. I flip open my compact to make sure my makeup is okay. Shit! My eyeliner got smeared and my mascara is dotting my eyelids. Shit! And James was meeting me for Advanced Algebra! Shit! Shit! Okay, I told myself to calm down. I turned to Cecilia.

"Can you cover for me while I run to the bathroom?"

"Why?"

I showed her the smudged black and gray makeup over my eyes. Her lime green eyes widened in horror and nodded briskly. I swung my purse over my shoulder like a wrecking ball and tore out of the room, leaving the heavy metal door banging loudly behind me. I didn't dare to look back into the window. I raced to the bathroom and washed all of the streaked makeup off, all while rummaging through my bag for my makeup bag. I relaxed after I unscrewed the cap of a black tube of mascara. Thank Gawd no one had seen me in my embarrassing après-nap state. Just as I was about to leave, the bathroom door flew open to reveal four airbrushed blondes in bright halter tops, underwear-revealing miniskirts, and stilettos in ugly shades of neon. Ehma-ew! They dressed exactly like the tastelessly tacky LBR wannabes back at BOCD when eight grade started. One girl with bleached teeth and a blue-highlighted blonde blowout who was taller than the rest of the losers marched out to challenge me.

"Haven't seen you around here before, darling," she drawled in her ah-bviously fake Southern accent.

"I'm Massie Block."

"Charmed. Aren't you the new American loser?"

"Yes." My blood boiled at the word 'loser', and I fought the urge to bitch-slap the overly spray-tanned girl to the moon.

"Well, loser, I rule this school, and you better worship me if you don't want me to destroy you." Okay, enough was enough! I stepped forward menacingly, causing some of the girls to shrink back against the wall.

"Bitch, the only person I worship is myself. You are nothing but a pathetic tacky tasteless loser who has absolutely no fashion sense. You expect me to worship a bitchy loser? Good luck with that. You're the one who should me kissing my butt, and if you're not, you will be. I don't have time to deal with pathetic loser wannabe bitches like you. Ta-ta!" I spat before flouncing back out with a mocking finger-wave. The tall perma-tanned blonde looked shocked for a second, but then her dull blue eyes narrowed dangerously. I rolled my eyes. Seriously? I don't give a shit about that bitch.

After all, there were plenty of fish in the sea. I would have to keep my eyes peeled for any girls who might be suitable for the British Babydolls. Watch out, KISS. The alpha is coming.

How was it? I hope that I was okay...

Please review! Tell me which POVs you want to read for I Promise!

-Anastasia