Chapter Four

From the moment I sat down in my English class, I could hear the whispering. My lame little confrontation with Gaston had sent ripples through the present student body. Even though it shouldn't have bothered me, I could feel my ears growing hot. I was already self-conscious of the reputation that had the potential to grow into something I wasn't prepared for.

I was glad I had sat down in the back of the classroom, but students kept spying glances back at me as they whispered. I noticed three highly attractive, busty blondes that looked like they might be triplets seemed to be the most titillated of anyone by the episode. They were each wearing short little skirts-one red, one yellow, one green, and they kept looking at me with big eyes and excited giggles.

"Psst," a voice hissed. "Hey, stud."

I slowly turned to my right. Lounging in the seat next to me was a thin girl in a leather jacket, boots, and a fountain of wavy brown hair pulled back into a very long ponytail. She had on a lot of purple eye shadow underneath razor thin eyebrows, and I noticed her eyes seemed to be a violet color, kind of like Elizabeth Taylor. Her face was heart-shaped, all cheekbones, long lashes, and tiny nose framed beneath those come-hither violet eyes.

My heart started to beat faster seeing those eyes looking into mine. Something about this girl made me feel nervous. She didn't have the bright, innocent spunkiness of Ariel or the modest, understated beauty of Belle and Wendy. This girl had sort of a trailer-park kind of sexy to her, if that made sense. The kind of chick you would meet at a rock show, get drunk with, and get an awesome blow job from until she stabbed you in the kidney with a switchblade because she saw you "flirting with some roadie tramp again."

Not that I was thinking of her like a real person, or anything. It was just weird to see her physically in front of me, and not in animated form. What did I recognize her from?

"You really know how to make an entrance," she said to me in a low voice. "Where has a total slice like you been my whole life?"

"Rotting anonymous at my old high school," I said. "I sorta feel like I fell into something."

"You definitely stepped right into a big steaming pile of something," she said. "You poor baby." There was a pleasant, seductive sort of huskiness to her voice. She smiled at me and said, "I'm Meg."

Right! From Hercules. I remembered. She was one of Disney's bad-girls, as far as its heroines went. The whole rocker look was an interesting take on her too.

"Shane," I said.

Meg snickered. "Oh, I know. I heard your little pal Belle introduce you. So, let me guess. Stop me at any point if I'm on the money. You showed up, saw pretty ol' Belle with her nose in a book, thought she was an easy target to hit on because she's such a socially inept nerd, and had no idea that the biggest asshole at our school is obsessed with her."

"Uh, not exactly…" I said. "I was talking to a couple of her friends and she showed up, and then offered to take me to my first class, since hers is across from ours. I wasn't trying anything."

Meg's smile was all too knowing. "Uh huh. Sure you weren't."

The English teacher stepped into the room just then right as the late bell rang. She looked a little flustered and out of breath, but I could still see she was young, slender, and pretty, with brown hair that was maybe a shade or two lighter than Belle's. Her yellow dress also covered all the good parts, which was lame.

After closing the door and setting down her bags, she turned to address us with shining blue eyes and a big smile.

"Hello, everyone," she said. "Welcome to Senior English. I'm your instructor, Miss Porter, and I sincerely hope you'll learn a lot during this course. We have a lot to cover, but I know you are all capable of achieving success, and I will do my best to make sure that success comes to fruition."

She had an English accent like Wendy's and that pleased me for some reason. I had never had the opportunity to learn English from a British person, so it seemed like it might be a fun experience. Plus, she was easy on the eyes as far as teachers go.

The door swung open and a student with long brown dreadlocks burst inside. His forward motion sent him on a collision course seemingly straight for a cringing student sitting in his desk, but instead of smashing into him or toppling over, he stuck his hand out and used it as a springboard to propel himself up and forward. It was all done in one graceful motion, without ever breaking stride or losing balance, and he landed in front of a seat smack dab in the middle of the front of the class.

There was no doubt about who this was. Tarzan the Ape-Man, in the flesh, only now he was wearing a loose fitting T-shirt and baggy khaki cargo pants instead of a skimpy loincloth, saints be praised.

The rest of the class began to laugh. I was impressed; this guy was a serious athlete. I had seen his movie, but in person, it was something to behold. Next to me, Meg was shaking her head and rolling her eyes, as if she had seen this kind of display before.

"I'm sorry I'm late," said Tarzan. "I got lost."

Miss Porter didn't seem too amused. She crossed her arms. "You're in your fourth year on this campus, Mr. Clayton. You should know where each classroom is. Or have you spent all of your time on the football field and none of it in front of the campus directory?"

The class snickered. Tarzan's broad shoulders slumped and he sank into his seat.

"If you're late again in such a disruptive way," Miss Porter said, "I'll be forced to give you detention, I'm afraid."

The class continued to hoot and holler, embarrassing Tarzan further, and Meg said to me under her breath, "Yeah I'm sure he'd love that."

"Yes, yes, very good, class, now let's stop braying like barnyard animals and go over the syllabus, shall we?" said Miss Porter, already getting back to business.

After class ended, I walked out with the rest of the students and glanced down at my schedule. Next up was History. Apparently, it was somewhere in this same building, but probably on a different floor. The one directly below, it seemed.

The faint scent of cigarettes mixed with the stronger scent of lavender perfume invaded my personal space. I turned to see Meg next to me. I was a little startled and took a step back, which seemed to amuse her. She stepped forward, chin tilted up at me.

Clearly, she was not a gal who respected personal space. (Not that I was complaining.)

"So what you got next, Tiger?" she asked me.

"Uh, history," I stammered, still caught off guard by her confidence. "What about you?"

She shrugged. "Who cares? I'm taking a smoke break anyway."

Belle, Wendy, and Milo started approaching from their classroom and Meg cast a sidelong glance at the trio before lightly placing a couple fingers on my chest and saying, "See you around, hotshot, if you don't get pummeled by Gaston first."

I stood there, a little confounded, as she walked off in the other direction from where most of the other students were headed.

"Was that Meg talking to you just now?" Wendy asked.

"Uh, yeah, I guess," I said.

"Ugh, I can't stand her," Wendy said, the disgust evident in her tone. "She's such a tramp. I'd avoid her if I were you, Shane."

"She didn't seem all that bad," I commented, firmly believing the opposite.

"She's a burnout," said Wendy. "She hangs out with all the rebels and troublemakers." Her voice dropped to a hushed whisper. "Her boyfriend is a drug dealer."

"Boyfriend?" I asked. Belle's eyebrows arched teasingly at me.

"Yeah, his name's Al," Wendy continued. "He's like our school criminal. You're better off avoiding their crowd if you don't want to get into trouble. They're worse than the jocks."

"And what are you guys?" I asked, half amused, half annoyed by her snobbishness.

"We're Class Council!" Wendy exclaimed. "Leaders of the student body! We're the heart of this school; without us, nothing would ever get done."

"We're the nerds," Milo said, looking as annoyed with Wendy as I felt. "To put it simply."

I laughed as Wendy shot him a glare. "Good to know."

Belle rolled her eyes. "Well now that you've informed Shane of our school's absurd little caste system, let's ask him if he needs help finding his next class."

"I think I'm all right," I said, showing her my schedule. "It's the floor just below us, right?"

"That's right. It says you have Professor Porter. He's Miss Porter's dad, he's this super sweet old man. I had him last year. He sort of reminds me of my father, actually."

"I'm sure he's terrifying then," I teased.

"You'd better get to your class before Gaston comes stomping around looking for you," Belle said lightly. I made a sour face and decided she was right.

History class was fortunately pretty uneventful, but I did recognize several of the princesses on my checklist. The professor seemed like a nice guy, but I made a point of trying to stay under the radar, and didn't really talk to anyone. I didn't want to risk drawing the wrath of any of Gaston's cronies, whoever they might be. The Native American guy was in this class (I found out his name was Glen Kocoum…so close to Glen Coco!) but he didn't give me any problems. The only time I saw him speak was when his girlfriend came in passing out flyers to everyone right before class.

Who was his girlfriend? The hottest girl in the class, of course.

Pocahontas was as easy to spot as Ariel had been with her red hair. And man oh man, was she a total hottie. I'm talking, this girl made runway models look like starving prisoners in labor camps hot. She was tall, about 5'9", and had an absolutely bangin' body…killer rack, legs practically up to my neck, and Lord, 'dat ass. She wasn't shy about hiding it either. Tank top, tiny little shorts, and she had some tattoos to boot. Her raven hair was long and swooshy, and she had these ridiculous lips that put terrible thoughts into my head.

'Damn you, Glen Kocoum,' I thought bitterly.

"These flyers are to support a fundraiser to plant forty more trees on the campus grounds," she said to everyone as she passed one to each student.

"Maybe the new trees can replace the old ones that were chopped down to make these flyers," said a bitchy voice. It came from Jasmine, who was, in my opinion, the second hottest girl in the class, but she definitely gave Pocahontas a run for her money.

Jasmine was another girl who wasn't really one for modesty. Her top displayed her midriff and ample cleavage, and I could tell her threads were all expensive designer labels. Her jewelry looked nice too. She wore a lot of makeup, but still seemed hot underneath. She also had a lot of black hair spilling down her back and big almond-shaped brown eyes.

'Oh God, she looks like a skinny Kim Kardashian,' I realized with a tinge of disgust and then a shameful half-boner. I cursed the sins of my flesh and then in the same silent breath, wished desperately that she would get up and drop a pencil or something.

Most of the rest of the class laughed at Jasmine's snarky comment but Pocahontas wasn't nearly as amused.

"These flyers have been printed on one-hundred percent recycled paper," she retorted.

"Whatever," said Jasmine, with a roll of her eyes.

Pocahontas sat down next to Kocoum and crossed her arms, still annoyed that Jasmine had to try and rain on her parade. Her boyfriend leaned in to whisper something to her, but she didn't seem to really hear him. Maybe it was just me, but she didn't seem all that into him from what I could see.

I looked at Jasmine and saw the handsome guy sitting next to her lean over to say, "Can we get through a day without you picking a fight with somebody from Class Council?"

"Don't start with me, Eric," said Jasmine, pulling out her compact mirror and checking her makeup. "I'm not in the mood."

I realized that the guy was Eric, class president and Belle's ex-boyfriend. He looked like he was about my height, coloring, and build, but his eyes were blue and not hazel like mine. Also, he was Ariel's love interest from "The Little Mermaid."

Eric sat back in his seat, looking annoyed. Apparently, he was dating Jasmine in this world, which was interesting to me. She seemed like a total bitch, so I felt a little sorry for him, but he was a handsome son of a bitch himself, so my sympathy only extended so far. It wouldn't be easy seducing princesses with guys like that walking around. Gaston's personality, at least, made him have all the appeal of a leprous chronic public masturbator, but Eric was probably a decent guy, the bastard.

The rest of class passed by quickly as it really could and then I was free. I hurried out of the room, not wanting to run into Kocoum on my way out, who might not be so docile outside of the classroom walls.

Making my way out of the building and onto the sun-drenched campus grounds, I nearly ran right smack into the last person in the world I wanted to run into…

Gaston.

{Uh-oh. More disgustingly contemporary versions of our beloved characters are popping up left and right. Who will be next, and what will be left of them? Don't forget to read and review! I appreciate all feedback that's been given to me. Next chapter will be up soon.}