2,867Author's note: Oou, thanks for the support you guys are sending to this story. (: It feels loved. -heart-
Lawl! By the way, those pick up lines Rod used were not created by me. I got them from the internet, naturally. Teehee.
AND ! Thanks to the people who pointed out the errors. I had them fixed. (: If you guys see any in this chapter, you know the drill. Happy reading!
Chapter two
"Morning!"
I nearly jumped out of my skin in mid yawn. Choking on air, I practically hacked my lungs out whilst leaning against the counter. "Mom?" I squinted against the bright light. She was currently looking inside the fridge, still in her nightgown.
"Darling, what would you like for breakfast?"
I scratched the back of my head. It was still dark outside, and I would know that it was way too early to be making breakfast. Not that I was planning to make a humongous breakfast for the family, but whatever.
(I really was, just so I get brownie points, you know?)
"It's five thirty in the morning," I said. Glaring, I grabbed the spatula from her hand. "Let me cook."
Mom blinked. "But . . . Why?" I was about to say something when a piercing sound broke the silence of the morning. My head snapped up and Mom sighed good-naturedly and handed me the spatula. "Thank you, sweets. Adam's having a bad dream."
Adam?
What? Who was—
Oh.
"My step brother!" I nearly exclaimed. "Oh, my God. How could I forget? How?" I smacked my forehead with the spatula, successfully killing a bunch of brain cells, I'm sure. I efficiently whisked eggs together and carefully poured it onto the heated pan. Eggs, bacon, and pancakes equal yummy!
"Smells delicious, Syd." Mom walked into the room, carrying a four year old against her hips. I nearly dropped the bowl I was holding.
"Adam!" I smiled brightly. "I can't believe I almost forgot about you." I paused. "Not on purpose though," I added hastily.
He stared at me blankly.
Mom laughed.
"Um, anyway . . . Here, Mom, I'll hold him for you." I reached forward.
Three things happened simultaneously. Adam lifted his hands up to grab a fistful of my hair. The fire alarm went on. And I tripped on air.
"Sydney! Oh, my—the eggs!"
Mom placed Adam on the floor, next to me where I was sprawled painfully (it really was . . . painful). She (I'd like to think it was accidentally) stepped on my arm just as Adam began to wail and yank my hair agonizingly.
I groaned.
Adam kicked my face.
"I hatechu!" he announced.
Oh. Well that was a brilliant way to start the morning, don't you agree?
It was colossal. Oh, my God, I know I'm going to get lost. I stood in the parking lot of the school, a good distance from where the front entrance was located. Squinting, I cocked my head to one side and nearly passed out once I realized the building extending horizontally into the masses of trees. Clearing my throat, I glanced at my watch.
I had an hour to go.
Okay. Before you laugh at me for coming to school an hour early, I will have you know that it's a brilliant idea, considering the size of this (quote) school (unquote). It's more like a museum with students as display.
Nervously, I fiddled with the bracelet Dad gave me on my thirteenth birthday. It was a habit of mine I've developed, and it certainly applies to my current situation. I've never had the chance to be the new student since I've been in the same school from elementary and high school—up until my junior year. I'm telling you, this is the worst. If they didn't like you, you won't have enough time to warm up to them in senior year since you'll be so darn busy.
Not to mention it's right in the middle of second semester. Oh, phooey.
"You can do it," I told myself. "Just be you and—"
My cell phone rang.
"Paige!" I gripped the small device to my ear. "You nearly gave me a heart attack, you crazy cow!"
"Good morning to you, too!" she cheered. "Let me guess, you are currently on school grounds and stalling."
"I am not stalling," I denied as I forced my legs to walk. Gosh, how the heck did she know? I glanced around myself furiously, trying to locate her dirty blonde head. What? You're never too paranoid. "In fact, I'm heading into the gigantic building as we speak."
She fired questions at me; was it nice (I said yes); what classes do I have (I didn't know at the moment); how far it is from my house (twenty minutes walking distance)? Did I see any rude people yet (I'm currently the only one existing)… and have I started hunting (it's seven thirty AM, good grief, I'm not in dire need of a guy!)?
I felt like an idiot, trying to locate the main office. So far, I ended up at the attendance office (you'd think I could read the prints at the door), the guidance counsellor, the youth worker's office, and finally the main office. Burgundy chairs lined up against the wall and a long vertical counter from the door's point of view was across from the seats.
"Hi," Mrs. Livingston, the secretary, asked in an obvious fake cheery-polite tone. Gosh, I disliked those tones. They made me feel inferior and unworthy.
Like that's ever stopped me.
"Hello," I said brightly, ignoring her dead stare. "I'm a new student."
"What is this new student's name?"
"Sydney Rhode."
I leaned forward on the black marble counter and curiously gauged her reaction. She stared at me for a moment before realization dawned on her face. However, her lips were still as she handed me my schedule and lock for my locker.
I stared at the green sheet of paper. Oh, this was just brilliant. I had gym first period. What is this insanity? I already took gym in ninth grade. But then I remembered that physical education was mandatory for all four years of high school in this school.
You can all watch me fail.
For the next forty minutes, I tracked down my locker (which happened to be on the fourth floor) and located all my classes, devising a route to get from class to class so I wouldn't feel like a moron trying to locate the rooms during actual school hours.
Now came the hard part.
I tried looking busy as I searched for my cell phone inside my TNA bag. Oh, gosh. I can feel the weight of their stares. Clearing my throat hastily, I turned towards the inside of my locker and flipped my cell open.
"I'm dying," I hissed to Paige when she answered. There was startled silence before she laughed a loud laugh. I sulked. "This isn't funny, Paige. They're all staring because I'm the new freaky kid!"
"Oh, darling." She chortled. "You aren't that short." I frowned at the comment. "They're staring because they haven't seen you around. Trust me, you'll charm them all by the end of the week."
"Was that supposed to be reassuring? Because it just put more pressure on me."
"Don't worry. The worst that could happen is being recruited by snob cheerleaders."
Huh. I haven't thought about that. I nodded along to Paige's reassuring voice, leaning against the locker beside mine. She did have a point. But it's not like I think all cheerleaders are bad! I was a cheerleader in my sophomore year, before I decided to quit because flipping in air wasn't my thing. Or wearing skirts that look like underwear, for that matter.
"So what's your first class?"
I groaned. "Gym."
I heard Paige's hilarity echoing in my head, even after I shut the phone. She knew how horrible I was in that class; she had the pleasure of being my partner throughout elementary and ninth grade. Trust me, I can find a way to trip on my face on a straight, flat surface.
Groaning in misery under my breath, I thought furiously of all the positives of attending a new school in the middle of the second semester when everyone knew everyone else.
…I couldn't think of any.
"Are you new?"
I felt myself freeze in surprise before I turned my head and saw an extremely pretty group of girls staring at me with raised eyebrows. I turned away from the inside of my locker and smiled as sweetly as I could.
Oh, my God. I mustn't scare them off with my psychotic attributes.
"Yeah, I am. I'm Sydney Rhode." I held my hand out instinctively and shook a few of their hands who actually bothered to lift their manicured fingers.
The brown haired girl at the front of the group smirked a little. "What year are you in?"
"I'm a junior."
Flabbergasted faces met my quizzical one and I found myself showing my confusion. Clearing my throat, I distractedly shut my locker and adjusted my TNA bag. Paige got it for me just recently, for my birthday. I prefer my black Jansport bag, but using the TNA bag made me think of my best friend and her quirkiness. God knows I need something recognizable in a world of unfamiliarity.
A red head spoke up. "You're really hot, did you know that?"
I slid my blank look at her before her comment registered. What the heck was I supposed to say to something like that?
Yes… Cue my awkward laughter.
"So are you a cheerleader?" The brown haired girl abruptly asked with an annoyed look on her face. The red head and her shared a strange look before turning to look back at me.
Was it so wrong to suddenly feel intimidated?
I shook my head. "No. I used to be on the squad last year, but I quit."
"What? Why?"
I was about to open my mouth but a group of guys materialized out of no where, some of them pairing with a few girls whilst the others stood off not too far at the side. I felt their stares again and it made my chest go cold. I smiled tentatively when I caught a few of their stares.
Okay. Okay. Don't panic. They're just guys that play sports who know their extremely gorgeous and can use it to their advantage.
I tried sliding away discreetly. When Paige said the worst that could happen was being recruited by cheerleaders, she was not kidding.
"Excuse me," I said quietly and began to walk away.
"Where are you going?"
I stopped automatically at that. I nearly groaned out loud. Why did I have to listen? I turned around and the whole group was scrutinizing me. I wanted the ground to swallow me whole so I wouldn't be the centre of attention like this.
"First period," I said.
"What's your first period?"
"Physical education."
A taller guy with broad shoulders and a dangerous smirk stepped forward. "Sweet, you're in my class." He held his hand out. "I'm Charlie."
I grasped his hand. "Sydney. Nice to meet you."
He didn't let go. "Has anyone told you that you have gorgeous legs?"
I froze again, a chill crawling down my spine in an agonizingly slow pace. I wrenched my hand away from his like it was on fire.
"I have to go. Bye."
I was breathing heavily by the time I made it down to the first floor. Leaning against the wall next to the gym doors, I exhaled a long breath. I knew I should've stuck to my black pants, but it was so hot I had to use the uniform kilt unless I wanted to die of heat.
I ran a hand through my hair. The day didn't even start and it didn't look too promising.
I'll have gaping holes all over my head if they didn't stop staring. I chewed furiously at the end of my pencil, trying to ignore eyes flickering in my direction every other second. I was new, gosh! I didn't have super magical powers that'll allow me to save the world from mass destruction.
(But that will be so cool if I did!)
It was mostly females who kept glaring at me. I even caught someone staring at me so hard with a dirty expression, she looked mighty constipated. But don't tell her I said that because I'm pretty sure she'll have my head.
I winced at the thought.
It was my period before lunch and I was desperately trying to stay awake during a lecture the teacher started about vandalizing and how if we hurt her desks again we'll pay with blood.
Bored, my eyes trailed around the class and over faces that look—
Hello. My eyes zeroed on a freakishly familiar head back and I nearly gasped out loud once I realized it to be—
"I hope you all learned something!" the teacher yelled in futile before sighing and turned to her desk. Clearly, students were not listening, and now that the bell has rung, they have forgotten all about her and her class.
However, that wasn't my point. I stood up quickly, throwing my new text book and supplies into my bag before I slung it over my shoulder. My eyes were determinedly locker on the slow strut of someone very familiar.
Yeaah, boy. It was Billy/Patrick! Oh, my God. I cannot believe my luck. I pondered on his age. Health class was an open course so I wouldn't know whether he was a junior or a senior unless I spoke to him. I quickened my pace, trying not to lose sight of him.
He's even more gorgeous walking.
Okay, do not drool. Stop it, Sydney; you totally have more dignity than this. I tried to stay calm and not burst out cackling like I wanted to. Trust me; I did that before. I (unfortunately) scared most of the male population away. The ones that survived my cackles laughed in my face.
It was a scarring moment that I never want to relive again.
Sweet, he had my lunch. I forced myself to keep a curiously blank face as I walked towards the cafeteria doors. He just passed through them. Okay, what will I say? Obviously, I'd have to introduce myself. Otherwise, he would consider me rude and, well… stalker-like material—, which I was not. I just… admired… from afar. Yes.
I just about tripped on my feet when someone stopped in front of me suddenly.
"Ack!" I gasped unattractively as my hand flew to my face, successfully slapping my cheek.
Believe me when I say I was aiming for my chest.
"You scared me!" I accused, trying to catch my breath and calm my raging heart. I stood up straight and my eyes locked with bright grey eyes. My face relaxed and I smiled awkwardly. "Hello!"
Oliver stared.
I know that I've been stared at like I was the freak and what not all day, but when he stared at me, I felt stark naked. No, I can't even describe it properly. He didn't stare like anyone else did; he stared at me like… he didn't know me.
Well, he really didn't know me, but he was staring at me, as in technically glaring at me, which was one step away from yelling at me. But why would he want to be yelling at me when we barely know each other? Excluding the fact that we're theoretically family… but I wouldn't call our relationship anything close to (quote) relation (unquote).
But the truth was that no one else actually knew me. So I don't know where I'm going with this.
He snapped out of his strange reverie. "Rhode." He nodded at me.
That looked cool. You know, the whole nod-greeting kind of—
I mustn't fall for the Jock Act!
I shuffled, brushing visible dirt from my kilt. "So, how are you?" I asked enthusiastically. "Do you have lunch right now?"
A small smile quirked his lips and I nearly whooped. I got him to smile! Jeez, he walked around like he didn't have any emotions. "I'm good." His eyes traveled downwards, and I confusedly, watched him do so. He looked back up casually. "By the way, your bra is showing."
I stared at him blankly, slowly comprehending his words. Once they settled in my numb brain, I looked down to find five buttons undone, exposing a nice amount of cleavage for the whole world to see. My red lace bra added a splendid overall product.
Oh, my God. Oh, my God.
I felt my face burn and I started to breathe heavily. Oh, my God. Why the blood didn't anyone tell me?
I closed my eyes in mortification, my hands calmly reached towards the buttons and doing them one by one. I've been walking around with my… well, mine, on show like some desperate slut! Holy crap, no wonder those girls approached me. They probably thought I was some easy—and then they were making fun of—
Oh, my God. Just kill me now. I honestly don't mind.
Oliver chuckled lowly, making my eyes snap open. He was amused; it was plainly obvious. I abruptly realized that he was too close for comfort. I tried stepping back, my hands still on my shirt.
"Whoa there, boy, what're you—"
"There are people watching you."
I swear my face turned purple from the amount of blood rushing to my cheeks. "They probably think I'm some cheap slut," I muttered under my breath. "Why are you so close?" I added as an afterthought.
He looked down at me, raising an eyebrow. "Do you want them to stare at you fixing your shirt?"
I winced. "Thank you." I tried not to breathe too much. Just because he smelt good didn't mean I had to enjoy this tempting moment. He was just being nice, after all.
I stepped back once all the buttons were done. I flipped my long hair over my shoulder and sighed, glancing around. There were guys a few feet behind Oliver staring at us hard and I made an awkward face before looking back up.
"Your friends?" I asked. He turned back for a second.
"Yeah." He stepped back as well and surveyed me. "You good?"
Surprised, I looked at him before smiling a smile I hoped looked reassuring. "Yeah. I just ruined my first impression, but that doesn't matter, right?" I muttered, tugging my hair in frustration. Great, this was going to bother me all week. Actually, scratch that. I'm scarred for life.
We stood there awkwardly for a second before I took a timid step to the side. I had a feeling he was just waiting for me to move so he could leave without being impolite. "I'll leave you to—"
"He's my best friend." His voice was abrupt.
I looked at him, startled. "Excuse me?" I frowned confusedly.
I was caught off guard when a slow, sexy smirk spread across his face, his eyes locking with mine. I nearly passed out, to be honest, but don't use that against me! "The guy you were staring at? The one at the library, the one that you were stalking?" He waited a beat. "He's my best friend."
Well, shoot. This time I did pass out. How embarrassing.