Hey, what's up? I'm back again - much earlier this time. Just a few shout-outs to my reviewers before the chapter starts:
Call Me Mimzy: You are SO awesome! I was overjoyed to know that my dumb old story brightened your day - it makes me feel important. :)
Mrs.Scott323: Glad you like it! And I agree with you - that'll be the best part!
Christine Writer: LOL. I suppose it could've been sweet & sour chicken. Maybe I'll use that later...
LLama77me: I love your reviews! Glad your reading my story, and may Whose Line live on forever in our hearts!
Okay, okay, on with it...
Meghan waltzed into Jasperstone Academy. Her arms held a huge jumbled mess of dirty papers, along with a huge load of books that were threatening to slip through and fall to the ground, hitting her toe in the process. Her hair was messy and windblown; part of it hung in her face. One of her stockings was rumpled, and her bookbag had dirt streaked across the bottom of it, due to dragging on the ground for a brief period when she had stooped down to gather dropped belongings. And every girl around her, just as on days before, seemed to be either staring or snickering - or both.
But at the current time, Meghan didn't notice. Why?
Because the most charming boy in the world had just given her his number. Which was kind of funny, since usually it was the girl who would give a number in that situation, but hey - maybe more things were different here than Meghan thought.
Faye was not there at the moment. Her mother had taken her off to a doctor's appointment, leaving Meghan to fend for herself. Normally, Faye said, they would be driven to school, as they had been on Monday, and would be Friday as well. They'd had to walk on Tuesday and would have to on Thursday because those were the days Mrs. Winthrop always left early for work. But since Faye's doctor's practice was WAY on the other side of town, and since they'd had to leave a half hour earlier (school started at 8:30, the appointment was at 8:00), Meghan had been forced to walk to school, having no transportation.
And as if that weren't complicated enough, there were the books. Both Faye's books and her own had to be carried by Meghan to school this morning, because this morning was when lockers would be assigned. They'd been given their books yesterday. Meghan couldn't understand why those teachers couldn't just hold off on their assignments for one day, instead of making people lug their books around. But that's the way it had been. And that homework was certainly no picnic, either.
Making her way toward the line for locker numbers, however, Meghan was all smiles. Faye would be coming back later to attend her afternoon classes, and Meghan couldn't wait to tell her what had happened. She'd probably have a heart attack.
But even more, she couldn't wait to get on the phone this Saturday, to tell Daphne. That reaction was going to be even better. She could already hear her now:
"NO WAY! You did NOT just snag an English guy!"
And of course, it would be hard for her to believe. Meghan had never even been asked out by an American guy. She and Daphne rarely attracted any guy's attention, except for that pervert Josh.
But this time, it had been different. The line was long, and the books were heavy - but Meghan's heart was soaring.
This is crazy. I've only been here for four days (five if you count today), and already so much stuff has happened.
Standing in the locker line I saw that idiot Clarissa about fifteen people ahead of me, laughing so hard that it looked like her head would come off and roll down the hall. I almost wished that it would - it's not like it would bother her, since it would enable her to shine her incredible beauty in two places at once. Frankly, I didn't see what was so funny - I mean, yeah, my hair was a mess, and I was holding on to a pile of papers for dear life, but all I was doing was standing there. Just standing there, minding my own business.
But no way was I going to let that faze me. Not today.
So I just zoned out into a daydream, imagining me and that guy riding off on a silver horse, into a flowery yonder. But then he started to look like Fabio, and I cringed and snapped out of it.
Still, I was in reverie. So charming. So helpful. And the way he had looked at me...just, wow.
In a way, he reminded me of someone. But I wasn't sure who.
Eventually, the line moved, and one by one, every girl in front of me was assigned a locker. When I got to the front, I was given the number for both Faye's locker and my own, but only one combination - mine. I would have to store Faye's books in my locker until she arrived, got her combination, and opened her own locker to put them in. Thankfully, hers was right next to mine.
I rushed to my locker, and when the books were inside, I quickly started to go through my messy papers. I knew that I only had a few minutes before the first bell, and I hoped that I hadn't left some of my homework out there in the street. Thankfully, it all seemed to be there, and I shoved it into my bag.
Then, the bell rang. As it had the two days before, crowds overtook the area. It wasn't as bad as it was on Monday, though, probably because people were starting to get more situated with their classes and where to go, and were less frantic to get there.
I shut my locker door and, now holding only my French book, joined the crowds. That's right. I've got French. For my first class. And let me tell you, it wasn't fun spending all of last night writing "Nous avons pas..." yada yada and "Je voudrais..." yada yada yada over and over. I had to recruite genius Faye to help me. She knows French pretty well.
As the masses enveloped me, I felt my jacket pocket to make sure that boy's business card hadn't fallen out while I was meandering in my locker. It was still there.
I brought my hand down, and in a few minutes arrived at my French class. The last two days had been bad, but maybe today would be better.
It was once again lunchtime. Meghan recieved some filet mignon, and went over to sit with Faye's friends, who began to ask her oddball questions.
"So, how do you like living with Faye?"
An inquisitive look came over the face of the questioner, Bridget. Meghan looked up and chuckled.
"It's good. There's certainly never a dull moment."
The others laughed, not knowing how very similar to Faye they actually were.
"How about this school? Do you like it?" Samantha asked.
Meghan looked to be in deep thought.
"I...I haven't been here long enough to get the full picture. I'm hoping my experiences here get better than they have been. I do like the atmosphere, though - very sophisticated. And I like the food...well, most of it anyway."
That seemed to bring up another subject.
"Oh, the nerve of that Clarissa!" Emily fumed. "Shoveling food into your bag the way she did. I'd like to take her face and rub it in the dirt!"
"It would probably hurt her more if rubbed her FINGERNAILS in the dirt, and ruined her perfect manicure." Bridget suggested.
Meghan just looked at them.
"One of these days, we're going to get her." Emily went on. "And she's going to wish she'd never set foot in this academy. One of these days."
She took an angry bite of filet mignon. Meghan wondered how much Faye's group was actually capable of.
Just then, she heard a voice.
"I'm back!"
The three perky girls popped up as if it were raining candy. They ran away from the table to meet their friend, leaving Meghan and her ex-colonial comrade Ayaka alone. Ayaka looked a bit frazzled. Meghan didn't blame her.
Within moments, they were all back at the table. Everyone gave Faye some of their food, for by this time, the lunch line had closed.
"So." Faye said to Meghan. "Did you make it here without me?"
Meghan kept looking at her food.
"Yes." A smile began to creep across her face. Faye latched on immediately.
"Oh, Meghan?" she questioned slyly. "Did something happen that I missed?"
"Yes." Meghan kept on eating.
The girls all started to get excited,, the most excited, of course, being Faye herself.
"Well, what?! What happened?"
Meghan still kept eating.
"Meghan?"
Still no answer. Meghan still kept smiling as she ate.
"MEGHAN! What are you hiding?!"
"I met a guy."
They gasped. Faye immediately went into hyperdrive.
"WHAT?! A guy?! Who was it, Meghan?! TELL ME!!!"
The girls all jumped around like they were spring loaded, all eager to know what Meghan was talking about.
"He said his name was Luke."
They stopped.
"Luke?" Faye repeated.
Meghan looked at her, puzzled.
"Uh...yeah." She handed Faye the business card. Faye's eyes moved back and forth as she read.
"I - I honestly can't believe this." she said.
Meghan was really starting to get confused.
"Can't believe what?"
Faye stared at the card.
"Luke as in...Lucas Brenshire?" She asked, eyes still on the card.
"I...guess. Yeah, that was his name."
Faye kept staring.
"Lucas Brenshire as in, son of Lord Matthew Brenshire? Great, great, great, great grandson of Morris Brenshire, founder of the Morris Brenshire School for Boys?"
Meghan stared at Faye.
"Uh..."
"Lucas Brenshire as in, the only aristocratic teenager more prominant in society than Clarissa Meredith Payne? Equivilent to her in popularity, well-known all over England, and the seventh generation in his family to attend the very school his great-grandfather founded?"
"Er..."
"And THE Lucas Brenshire, as in the object of most every girl's unreturned affection, the heartthrob that every girl longs for, and the one voted most likely to end up in Clarissa's wedding bed?!"
"WHAA?!"
Meghan grabbed the card, horrified, and read it herself.
"I...you must be joking. You have to be joking, Faye!"
Faye looked down, wide-eyed, shaking her head in disbelief.
"No, I think it is you who must be joking. Did you find this card on the ground?"
"No, Faye! I told you, he gave it to me!"
"Impossible. I don't believe you."
"It's true! And he told me to call that number! Why is it so hard for you to believe?"
"Why?" Faye repeated. "WHY? I'll tell you WHY. Because Lucas Brenshire is a filthy rich ultra-high-class member of the NOBILITY, and you, Meghan, are a lower-middle-class American exchange student who is here on a semester-long scholarship. And this isn't meant to offend you, Meghan, but according to the unsaid laws of the social structure, you are UNFIT to even be speaking with him. That's why."
Meghan just stared, speechless.
"And if that doesn't seal it for you," Faye added, "there's also the fact that Clarissa Payne is MADLY IN LOVE with him."
Angst showed itself once again on the faces of Faye's friends, and a bit on Faye herself. Meghan had no idea how to respond to what she'd just been told; she only knew that her dream had been shot down, fast and hard.
But finally, she was able to eek out a question.
"So...where exactly does that put me, at this point?"
Faye looked at Meghan, and her face softened.
"I'm sorry, Meghan. I went on a bit of a tyrade there. But the sad fact is...this is all probably just a cruel joke."
Meghan didn't want to believe her, really, she didn't. It had seemed real, genuine, and true. And lovely, so very lovely.
But Faye's explanation...well, it just made more sense.