Autumn Term

Dorian Hillbrooks

*Beep Beep Beep*

A groan erupted from beneath some cotton blankets, followed by rough movements here and there before the blankets and a lump fell from the mattress. "Oh crap," said the lump, pushing strewn blankets aside and revealing a messy brown bed-hair. Tired green eyes slowly blinked open, adjusting to the morning light that shone through the toothpick shaped gap between his curtains and he slowly looked up to his alarm clock.

7:00 am

He groaned again, slowly slipping side to side and falling out of the blanket bundle, stretching and yawning as he went. "Why am I up this early?" He asked himself, thinking for a moment before realizing it was the first day back at school, and he felt his stomach drop. A line of cuss' and swears fell from his mouth and he laid on the floor for a moment, staring at the ceiling. Just what he wanted. To go back to his life of being pushed into lockers, abused for his lazily cared for looks and shy but mean attitude. When were they gonna learn, they made him mean because of the things he did... He sighed gently, getting to his feet and heading towards his wardrobe. He fished out underwear, a white shirt, tie and black trousers. Just a new start to another lousy year...

***

The school grounds were slowly getting busier and busier as the morning passed. The school always seemed to fill according to where they lived. The people who lived far away seemed to arrive first, and the people who lived close were late. It was ironic, but it was the way it was... Dorian walked into the building, holding his backpack strap and pushing his glasses up his nose. It was only a matter of time. For now, it wasn't too noisy, but it was only time until the hallways filled with jock's, cheerleaders, and popular's. Then the noise would be deafening. Dorian walked to his locker and undid it quickly, going through his bag and sorting out books and such he'd need according to his schedule.

Blake awoke to the sound of her evil red-haired brother Moji thumbing up the stairs of their home. Cracking one eye open, the blonde squeezed her arms tight around herself in an effort to brace herself against what was sure to come.

“Get up, sis!” A loud voice shouted, shoving her from the warmth of her blankets and onto the floor. Though Moji was fifteen, he had just gotten gracefully through puberty and was slowly beginning to morph into a young man. Blake let her lip jut out and she sat up. Moji’s wide gray eyes looked down at her with a slight interest. “You’re really gonna do it this year, aren’t ‘cha?” He offered her a hand up onto the bed and let out a burst of wild laughter while he sized her up in her nightgown. “As if you’d be able to pass as a dude. I’m already taller than you, ya shrimp!”

Placing a hand into her shorn hair, Blake could only smile. No, she knew she wouldn’t enjoy this masquerade. She had been testing her appearance all summer and she knew if she tried, she could pass as male. It was distressful when having to use the restroom or playing sports…but there were a few perks. If anything, she did enjoy the feel of a boy’s haircut. Her waist-length hair had been hacked off in a salon only last month but much to her surprise, it wasn’t as bad a turn-out as she had thought. She had spent the entire summer faking it as a guy in public. She enjoyed the freedom of that.

“What time is it?” She asked in a daze, getting up and fumbling through her closet. Pushing all her sundresses aside, she reached for the back and pulled out a button-down shirt and laid it on the bed along with a pair of dark pants and some ace bandages. “Help me?” She asked, tugging her undershirt overhead.

Moji helped her with her binding. As he always had—despite the awkwardness of it all. By binding her chest over with the bandages, it would make it look totally flat. That was necessary. “It’s seven twenty.”

“No!”
***

Blake had always put extra effort into looking her best. Even when being a boy. Her first class was gym—how lucky, right? Having gym meant being there first.

If she didn’t show up first, she would end up getting caught. The school knew of her issue, though. It was the students who absolutely could not find out.

As she raced through a pack of boys, a few of them broke out into fits of laughter. “Who’s the new kid?” They were sneering. “What’s up with that ass of his?” Blake had learned to ignore these comments over the summer though it was very hard to avoid physical abuse. One of the more sporty guys jutted his foot out just as Blake was passing by. Head over heels, the slender youth toppled and hit the floor. Face-first—right into the tile. The taste of blood trickled into her mouth from a broken lip but without saying anything, she stood up and continued to hustle toward the gym as a pain welled in her chest. Tears burned inside her tightly blinking eyelids but she would not allow them to escape until she was in private. After all. Boys don’t cry.

Demian Mathews

The alarm clock rang at quarter past seven, if it were alive surely would regret doing so since with a blow ended crashing into the wall, the boy did it by reflex since he wasn't a morning person, slowly opened one eye to see his work and when was about going back to sleep his brain started working, right, the first day of school and the reason he buy the little alarm clock that now lay shattered on the floor of the room.
Unwillingly left the comfort of your bed and headed to the bathroom, the boy that looked at him from the other side of the mirror didn't look happy to be awake, letting out a small growl began to wash up, waited him a long day but it wasn't the only thing that awaited, in the small kitchen there was a breakfast prepared with a note from his father saying that would be at home in the afternoon and that he had to warm a little the breakfast before eat it, a small smile appear as he began to follow the instructions, in recent months his relationship with his father improved a lot, in fact he was the reason that Demian made some effort to finish school, when he finished his breakfast, he returned to his room and took a black pants and white shirt, then he grab from the bedside table four rings and a necklace, put two rings on each hand and took his backpack.

***

Demian don't remember the last time he came to school so early, it was much louder than he thought and as he walked towards school could feel the stares and hear the whispers of idiots thing that made him angry, the bullies started their routine showing to the new students who's the boss and some of the freshmen that believed they had the necessary to sustain their arrogance challenged without a shadow of doubt to the upper grades, this was the other side that all schools had, a side to that he was always linked even though he never was interested in the ridiculous disputes Demian wouldn't let a punk insult him, as he thought it a group of first year approached him "What a beautiful necklace!," said the one who obviously was the leader, looking at the cross-shaped necklace hanging from the Demian's neck, it was the most common motif and had nothing special, he sighed, their intention was so obvious, but they were dumb enough to try it outside the gates of the school and what is more they chosen him as target, those who knew him looked in panic, while some began to leave the area others ignored the whole fact, "Thank you" he replied and began to walk, didn't want to start the year in that way, but the fools were obstinate, "Wait!" said one while grab him with one hand, the same hand that Demian dislocated him, the three were surprised to see the inert hand hang, before he started to feel the pain and go into panic, Demian fixed the hand in its original place, it was something he had experienced by himself so he knew the procedure, "Now go away, I have classes to go" he laughed strongly when heard himself say that he should go to class, no doubt this would be a long year.

Perhaps it was bizarre, as Jessie often tended to be, but the small girl was actually up hours before her alarm went off. In fact, she hadn't even gone to sleep. As she realized this, her eyes darted u from her book. She had been in the middle of reading and wasn't at all happy that her six o'clock alarm had interrupted James and Sophia's passionate love scene. A knock on her door prompted her to shove the rather sketchy book under the covers.

"Jessica, are you awake?"

Jessie yawned and jumped out of bed to open her door. "Yea mom... just getting up (she hated herself the second that the lie left her mouth)" After a confirmation that yes, she really was awake, and no, she didn't want to get a ride to school, the brunette was finally able to get ready for school. She was actually pretty tired, though pulling all-nighters was the one thing that she had learned to do best over the years. But today was her first day in a new grade and she wasn't about to mess it up with an attitude that was any less then positive. That day, she spent nearly half an hour trying to find clothing that she was allowed to leave the house in. Her father's dress code consisted of no shorts, not tank tops, and nothing that showed any cleavage at all. Finally, at 6: 30, she settled on a short sleeved, light yellow top and black jeans. The frills on the top made her look a bit innocent, but she wasn't about to change into one of her other shirts. They were all far too ugly to wear to public school.
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
After she had arrived to school, Jess found herself in the office. Apparently, she was to welcome some new girl into school. Show her around and what not. And to be honest, Jessie was looking forward to it. She would finally have a chance to show that she didn't hate everyone, and that she really was a nice person. Even if it was only to one person, it meant quite a bit too Jessie, and she would not screw this up. And so she sat on that tiny chair, inside of empty office, waiting for this new girl to show up.

"Oh, what a beautiful morning," Vasiliy sang, completely off-pitch, his Russian accent muddling his words. People were often shocked that Vasiliy even had an accent, after all, he hadn't lived in Russia since a few months after he was born. Part of it was probably from the fact that he learned Russian as his first language, and it was the only one he ever spoke at home. Another factor playing part in creating his accent could be from him visiting family in Russia every year or every other year. Either way, he spoke with a noticeable accent and couldn't pronounce a single thing properly. Not to mention, his singing sucked. 

Rummaging around in his closet, Vasiliy tried to decide what he would wear. Unlike the rest of his room, his closet was an absolute mess. It looked like a bomb hit. The housekeeper refused to clean Vasiliy's closet because it was so messy, so it was in harsh contrast with the rest of his pristine room.

Eventually, he decided on a pair of dark grey skinny jeans and a tightly fitting black cotton t-shirt that showed off his muscles. Surprisingly, despite the disarray of his closet, neither article of clothing had any wrinkles. Despite the fact that they were all in aheap on the floor, most of his clothes were folded rather neatly and didn't get wrinkled, so they always looked nice. Vasiliy was glad for that; he hated it when his clothes were wrinkled.

The thin male walked into the bathroom the was connected to his room, grabbing a hair brush by the sink and running it through his long hair. Vasiliy loved his hair, and would cobstantly be brushing it. One of the perks of long hair was that you had to always brush it to keep it untangled, so Vasiliy used that as an excuse to brush his hair whenever he laid eyes upon a hairbrush. 

Soon, he was prepared for the day, and walked downstairs. Two sandwiches were sitting on the counter, one for breakfast, the other for lunch, each one undoubtedly prepared by the family's chef. Vasiliy picked them up, putting them in his backpack, which was sitting by the door. 

After pulling on sone black Converse boots that reached his knees, Vasiliy slung his backpack over his shoulder. His car was sitting in the driveway. It was a white vintage '59 Cadillac Eldorado, every piece of it original. His parents had gotten it for Vasiliy for his sixteenth birthday, and he treated it like it was  a god. This was probably one of his only belongings that he actually took care of. 

After a shortdrive that lastedno longer than ten minutes, Vasiliy pulled into the parking lot of the school, his car screeching to a halt. Vasiliy had rather frighteningdriving skills, and few people would ever willingly get in a car with him. 

Making sure his car was locked, Vasiliy walked into the school, backpack slung over his shoulder. Today was going to be a lovely day. His mood soured slightly as he saw his ex-girlfriend, a woman by the name of Toshiko, but it soon brightened when he saw one of his friends, Ivri, heading over to him. 

"Privet, Ivri!" Vasiliy called, his friend responding with the exact same greeting. Vasiliy and Ivri would always greet each other in Russian, a tradition that had been started a few years ago when Ivri had asked Vasiliy to teach him Russian. Ivri was terrible at the language, and knew only a handful of words, but they still would greet each other in Russian. 

"Still angry about Toshiko?" Ivri asked, falling into step directly next to Vasiliy. 

"Do you even need to ask?" Vasiliy asked. "Oh, I vish I had a vay to get revenge." Clearly, he was feeling rather angry, because his accent was beginning to nearly cover his words, when usually he managed to keep it slightly less noticeable when he was speaking.

Ivri suddenly got a rather evil grin on his face. "I have an idea on how you can get revenge," he began. "Idare you to ask Dorian out on a date."

Vasiliy couldn't have been more shocked if he stuck a fork into an electric outlet. "Are you kidding me?! Are you insane, Ivri?! I'm not some queer. I don't like guys!"

"Yeesh, Vasiliy, calm down. It's not like you'd be getting into an actual relationship. It's just a dare. Besides, think about it. Toshiko would be furious. It's like you would be shouting in her face that you would rather date the least popular student in the school - despite the fact that it's a guy - than date her. It's an awesome way to get back at her."

Vasiliy sighed, and began to turn down a side hallway, not one he usually went down. 

"Where are you going?" Ivri asked in confusion. 

"To find Dorian. Your dare is accepted."

Sonny woke up bright and early a bit excited she was going to a new school so of course she was nervous going to a place where she knew no one was always a bit scary. She walked into the bathroom and showered and then walked to her closet. She decided to wear a skirt and A blouse. "Keep it simple" she thought. She then walked into her bathroom and began brushing her hair and a few minutes later "99....100" she said putting the brush down and then pulled her hair back into a nice neat pony tail. She grabbed her back back and started to walk to school. The scenery was very different than what she was used to... she was used to the country seeing cows and horses, but now she saw buildings thjat touched the clouds and it made her miss home alitle. She arrived at the school and walked into the office. "hi I'm new here I was told to come check in to get my schedule" She said. The receptionist seemed annoyed and she handed her the schedule "there will be somone here momentarily to show you around" she said before returning her gaze back to her computer.

Dorian pulled a slip of paper out of his locker and tilted his head a little. He'd had this locker most of his time in Lineham, and he remembered keeping one photo with him the whole time. It was a picture that was taken when he was a kid. It had him, his mother, and his father in it, and they all looked smiley and happy. Dorian looked only about seven or so, but it was one of those pictures that had always kept him going. Put up with it for dad... He thought to himself, sliding the picture back under the bundle of books and then slowly closing his locker. Dorian wasn't one to show his emotions to others. It was always behind a shell of glares and sour looks that he gave to people. And his big geeky glasses too. Most of his things could be hidden behind them. Especially his actually really pretty green eyes...

Dorian prodded his glasses up the bridge of his nose again, sighing gently as he turned down the corridor to trudge off to his first class, but was suddenly surrounded by jocks and such, circled around him like a pack of wild dogs. They all loomed over him with nasty leers and grins. It wasn't a surprise they were looming over him. Most boys were taller than him -hell, a lot of the busty cheerleaders were taller than him. He was very short for his age, and he hated it. It made him a target for jerks such as these guys.

"Hey, four eyes." One of them started with, sniggering a little. "You're looking a little down today? You should try standing up straight! Oh wait, you are!" Some of the others laughed and high five'd each other for the lame joke. Dorian grimaced, fists tightening as he looked up at the cocky jock through the tops of his glasses. He sighed a little, the jokes never got any better.

"Yes, I am, now piss off, please." Dorian snapped with a glare, walking towards a small gap between the jocks whilst his ears filled with the loud "Ooooooooh" raising slowly in tone like the start of a fire truck siren. He was about to walk past one, but then felt someone tug at his backpack, which he had ironically made sure was firmly on his shoulders. A stupid move looking back on it...

"It's not nice to be so rude to your fellow colleagues." said one jock snidely, flicking Dorian's small nose and making a slight 'clink' noise on his glasses. He was suddenly yanked back more, feet struggling to try and keep control of his own movements, but he didn't even succeed. He was dragged back and then tossed, his head hitting the back of a locker and his eyes wincing shut as he groaned slightly in pain. He heard the loud clunk of the locker closing and locking, a sound all too familiar to him. He hesitantly looked up, seeing two of the jock's peering through the gap. "Maybe this'll teach you that you really aren't as popular as you think you are."

Dorian blinked a couple of times as the jocks walked away, trying to think it over. As popular as he thought he was? Well, he thought he was the most unpopular boy in school... Did they think he was big-headed and arrogant now? "Well just f**king great..." He muttered to himself, running a hand through his hair before kicking at the locker door, trying to see if he could simply kick it open. He knew it wouldn't, but it was worth a try...

Sitting in an office for fifteen minutes, Jessie noticed a lot about how the school had changed. Mrs. Harris, the elderly African American secretary had only gotten crankier, the floor tiles had been changed from an ugly stained-eggshell color to dark blue, and the pile of newspapers that would remain on the desk all year where actually new. It was a surprise what one noticed when they were quiet. Maybe if she had friends, she would stop noticing the stains on the walls (even if they where only a few shades darker then the paint itself) and the chip on the corner of the desk.

When the new girl came in, Jessie tried to greet her right off the bat. But after a moment, she realized that that would probably be considered dumb or over eager. Instead she let Mrs. Harris do it, and not very surprisingly, that was a mistake. To be honest, Jessie was offended that Mrs. Harris didn't remember that she was there. What kind of secretary was she? Not a very good one if you asked anyone who had gone here for a while. She not only slept on the job, but she was cranky and so obviously hated children with a passion. With a small roll of her eyes, Jessie coughed in an attempt to be noticed.

"May I help you?" Mrs. Harris asked, raising an eyebrow as she looked over her desk. If she had been standing up, the older lady would have probably crossed her arms, or sat down in annoyance, but she was already sitting, so an annoyed attitude would have to do. That was how Jessie pictured this lady's mind working. She simply wanted to be upset all the time. It was her purpose in life; to be miserable and make others just as miserable.

Jessie stood up and walked over to the slightly taller girl. "I'm supposed to be showing you around today" She said quietly, forgetting why she had even signed up for this job. "Uhm... my name is Jessie. And yours is Allison, right? Or are you Lana... I'm showing one of the two around, and I know it's you because I got a picture, but I messed up the papers so... yea" A light blush spread across her face and she looked down at the floor. She hadn't meant to ramble, but it was something she tended to do when she was nervous.

Sonny smiled at the girl who had approached her "yes I'm Allison but please call me Sonny I destest the name Allison it's so old fashioned" she said with a bright pearly smile on her face. The girl standing before her was gorgeous but Sonny doubted if she was into girls she seemed uptight almost like she was really religious but she had no way of knowing or proving it nor did she care all that much. "so your supposed to show me around the school right?" Sonny asked.

(sorry for the short post a bit of writer's block)

Hailey Cooper
5:00 AM


BAM

Hailey woke with a start, nearly falling out of her bed in the process. Actually, she did fall out of the bed, not in the process, but because her mother was standing on the other side of the mattress, waiting for her to wake up. Hailey stared down at the floor, thinking that it actually wasn't too bad. Her carpet was oddly comfortable at five in the morning and quite frankly, if it weren't for the lady standing right on the other side of the bed, just having dropped a dictionary to wake up Hailey, she would have been happy to wait for six on this carpet. Five was way too early for any sane person to get up; especially on the first day of school. But as her mom argued, it was never too early to get up and begin getting ready.

"I'm up" Hailey said, trying her best to sound as alert as possible. Of course, her mom said nothing in return, simply left the room and waited for her daughter to get dressed and ready.

Even after she had put on makeup (far too much in her opinion), straightened her hair, and found the most... well... revealing clothing she had (Just a tight shirt and a skirt really. But she didn't like it, not at all), it still wasn't good enough for her mother. Her eyeliner was messy, her tendency to wear all black was depressing, and her hair was going to frizz in this weather unless she put on more of the hairspray that quite frankly smelled like overly concentrated grape juice. Most children would have argued that it was their body, and that they could do what they wanted, but not Hailey. She had stopped trying to use that argument years ago. Instead she went into the bathroom, re-did her makeup, put on a blue, long sleeved top, and did her hair until it looked as if she had the head of a Barbie doll.

By the time Hailey was ready for school, she felt fake. And it was horrible, but she still went to school with a smile on her face, she greeted her "friends" with the usual happiness and confidence that she always had faked, and she went to homeroom.

"Hailey Cooper, correct?" The young, and very inexperienced teacher asked almost the instant she sat down in the front row. Not very surprisingly, Hailey had no idea how he knew her name. As far as she knew, she had no notices to be given, no books missing from last year, no punishments gone un-received.

"Yea" Hailey answered quietly, gazing down at the book that was on her desk. She read her father's name on the cover, knowing that she would never actually read this new one. It was probably about something dumb anyway. But her mother had insisted on her reading all of the books that her father had written.

"Congratulations," the young man began, his voice not really conveying much of a congratulatory feeling, "You'll be in honors art three this year. Your teacher will be Ms. Jones and the change to your schedule is right here." That should have made Hailey happy. Honors Art... that was a class that she would most definitely pass with flying colors. But her mom wouldn't approve, not at all. And Hailey knew that by the time the letter came in, informing Ms. Cooper about her daughter's success, she probably would be forced to leave. So much for a great year.

Marie-Ann Jones

7:30 am

A rusted and well-used rouge red beetle pulled up into the school's car park, rattling slightly as it went through the gates and then pulled up into the space that had a plaque at the front, reading 'Reserved for M. A. Jones.' There was a mixture of clattered bangs, smack's and wallops when the car had first entered, but as the engine died to a stop, the silence surrounded the driver. The brunette within the vehicle leant her head back, her curly bangs and purple bow pushing into the head-rest a little and her long violet dress creased up a little. It went down to her knees still, but the tight belt around her waist seemed to make it scrunch up around her tiny waist. Not unhealthily tiny, but small all the same. She let out a small reserved sigh, fluttering her long eyelashes a couple of times as her big blue eyes seemed to look somewhat sad for a few moments.

Marie's hands still held the wheel of her old car. She'd never bothered to get a new one. It had been with her through thick and thin, and it still worked. That was all she really wanted from a car. It wasn't something that bothered her that much otherwise. Her gaze went from the roof of her car, to her front window. She was trying to get rid of her sad feelings and built up trauma she'd developed over the past few months. She couldn't let it out in the school. She was a different person when she was teaching. She was herself when she was teaching. She knew that in order for kids to concentrate in art, they had to be relaxed. However... Last night had just been a little... hard for her. She'd had sex last night. And yes, although that may seem comical that it was 'hard', it was just very difficult. He almost said a different name... She thought to herself. During the middle of it, her boyfriend, David, had almost yelled out 'Suzie!' and it totally threw her off. However he just told her it was nothing, and being the girl she was, just said nothing. He'd gone by morning, again, and so now Marie was left like this. Knowing she should do something. Tell him she knew about this other woman. Talk to him... But... she just couldn't...

"Okay, enough being morally depressed, time to be Ms. Jones." Marie smiled slightly, remembering last year getting presents from about 6 students at the end of the year. It was so sweet. She hadn't expected any sort of gifts. She was just happy to be teaching such great students. She smiled a little more. That was probably the highlight of her life. Teaching art. It was possibly one of the most calming, laid-back subjects there were. She'd allowed kids to snack a little (Non-messy foods of course) and listen to music in her class, purely because it would get the kids in a calmer mood. It definitely calmed her down. She often migrated to the art room, leaving on her radio and painting freely. Finally, after being put into a better mood, Marie climbed out of her car, going around to the boot and collecting some nicer art supplies (The ones the school supplied were never that great) her radio, and her bag. Slamming the boot with her elbow and then locking her car, she made her way into the school, smiling and greeting the kids she'd taught in previous years and then fishing out her keys from her pocket, unlocking her classroom and then walking in. She was greeted with that smell. It was one of the materials. It was either paint, or clay, or something like that. But whatever it was, it smelt great.

"Oh, Marie!" The young teacher turned around , her hair bouncing on her shoulders as she looked to one of the people walking in. It was the deputy principle, and he was greeting her with a small smile. Marie smiled shyly back.

"Hey." Marie responded, placing her bag and the radio on her desk and then putting the art supplies away. "How's the new students looking?"

"Not too bad Marie, not too bad." Marie smiled. The students always seemed quite nice. They were either really clever, really creative, or simply had funny personalities. Well, the ones who took a liking to her subject did anyway. "But I've got a surprise for you. You've got your first honor student." Marie turned around and raised an eyebrow at the man. "Well, you've been here three years, and this just means you'll have one student who comes and does more art than the rest."

Marie's confusion turned into a happy smile. "Really? I didn't know that students could do that..." She tapped her chin. "Well, what kind of things do I need to do with them? Do I need to take her on trips and make her come after school and such?"

"Well, you don't have to, but that would be quite good."

Marie smiled at the deputy-principle and held her hands together. "That sounds wonderful. What's their name?"

"Hailey Cooper." The deputy head held up a finger. "I think she may be in your first class. I know you usually don't do much on the first day, but it might be an idea to do more with this girl. She really is good with her art." Marie smiled at the man, about to respond when he let out a little 'Ooh!'. "Gotta run, need to check up on the other teachers. But, good luck!" Marie gave him a small nod and a grin of appreciation. After he closed the door, she leant back against her desk and let out a gentle sigh. It felt good to be back in this room. It was one of the things she'd missed over the summer vacation.

Why had he accepted this dare? With each minute that passed, more regret began to pool in Vasiliy's stomach, making him feel nauseous and terrified. Vasiliy didn't like feeling terrified. Of course, no human did, but for Vasiliy it was worse. He was used to being in control, being the calm one that people could turn to.  Being terrified, being out of control, was the worst feeling that could ever happen to him.

Why did he accepted the dare? He was torturing himself over this. He wasn't even gay! Not to mention, he was popular. Any sane popular didn't just randomly date the least cool kid in the school. Especially not if they were the same sex. That was another thing irking him. He wasn't gay! Never in his life had he ever even considered being with a guy. It was just to strange. Or, perhaps, queer would be a better word. 

His heart nearly stopped when he spotted Dorian. What should he do? He wanted to turn back, forget about it all, but it was a dare. He couldn't just give up, not unless he wanted to become completely shamed. Only sissy's gave up on dares, after all. 

Luckily, the appearance of the jocks gave him a few extra minutes to think. Vasiliy twirled his fingers in his hair - a completely feminine gesture, but he was nervous enough to not notice. Finally, he came to a decision, with the perfect timing. The jocks were just leaving.

Slowly, he walked over to Dorian, leaning his back against the lockers and looking down at the thin male. "Hey, Dorian," he greeted in a manner that he hoped was relaxed but for all he knew couldbe sounding like a terrified chihuahua. "Want tocome to the movies tonight?"

"Hey, Dorian." Dorian looked through the small gap in the locker he was in and saw... well, someone who had surprised him. It was Vasiliy. He had to remove his glasses, rub his eyes, put his glasses back on and take another look... Was it really him? He had a lot longer hair now. But, well, he'd still seen him around school, but every time he attempted to talk to him back as being first years, he'd simply ignored the small nerd. So, he hadn't talked to him for years, and suddenly he was talking to him now? Dorian was utterly confused, and just as he was about to utter a response, Vasiliy came back with, "want to come to the movies tonight?"

Dorian blinked a couple of times, things running through his head as he struggled to fathom what he was witnessing. Every day in school, every day since he had no friends, he'd questioned himself whether Vasiliy was actually friends with him in the first place. Why he'd ever believed that they really were best friends. And now, it was coming to this... WTF?

Dorian pushed his glasses up his nose and looked to Vasiliy, eyes narrowing slightly. "No thanks..." He raised an eyebrow to the boy. "I don't really think you wanna be seen with the most unpopular boy in school, even if he did put up with your ass for a majority of his childhood." He said sourly, folding his arms together and turning his head away from Vasiliy's gaze. Sure, it was mean, but he couldn't help holding a grudge. Life had gotten crappy. Hell, his best companion was his pet hamster. He bit his lip, before he looked more towards him. "What the hell though? You see me thrown into a locker and you see this as the perfect opportunity to ask me to 'hang out'?"

Hailey Cooper

Thirty minutes after she had received the note from Mr. Lamon (as she had discovered this was his name a few minutes into class), Hailey found herself in the guidance office. Two women, one middle aged and one very young where sitting at the dark cherry desk, filling out papers and typing away on their keyboards at an inhumane pace. A small stack of late slips lay next to the complimentary dish of hard candies that seemed to litter guidance offices and therapist's desks everywhere. Because the adults in charge somehow thought that candy would make sobbing teenagers and worried parents feel better. Hailey reached forwards and grabbed a few mints. She had always done it, out of habit. It was a paranoid habit, but it was needed to throw off any wary counselors.

"What's wrong sweet-heart?" the older lady asked, raising her eyes up from the computer. Hailey smiled a bit. This lady reminded her of her auntie. She looked nothing like her. She didn't have the same soft brown eyes or red hair, but she did have the same vice. The voice that was so raspy and uneven that it would seem to any by passer that the lady had been smoking since she was a child. "Lost? Don't worry about it dear. Most new students get lost on their first day. Now what's your name dear?"

Hailey laughed softly. "No, ma'am, I'm a senior." She laughed again at the woman's dismay, though it wasn't a real laugh... just one to make her seem as if she was a good natured person and not offended at her mistake. "I just found out that I'll be in Ms. Jones' honors art class, and I think there might be a mistake. I was under the impression that Mrs. Rivers was the honors art teacher. Also, I won't have to drop any of my classes, right?"

"No you won't. You'll simply be asked to attend more class trips, and possibly stay after school more often. You may also receive some individualized lessons and trips. As for your dilemma about the teachers, Ms. Jones is one of the new honors art teachers. There was no mistake at all Hun" She picked up a late slip as the bell rang "Now what's your name again?"

Hailey smiled at her again. "Hailey Cooper. H-a-i-l-e-y C-o-o-p-e-r" She leaned over to make sure it was being spelt right and left the office with her pass in hand.
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Walking into art class was actually kinda fun for Hailey, especially since she was late. It gave her a chance to see who her new classmates would be. it was a small class, all seniors and she actually liked the ones that she recognized. There was Jim Davis and Alexis Good, who had apparently reconciled after their breakup last year; Ryan Morrison, who almost never talked to anyone but Hailey in class. And she hardly every talked to anyone but him. And that was really all. She knew no one else. And it seemed that there were only about ten people in the class anyway. Plus, another perk of being late was the fact that she could make a good impression on the teacher, who she had never met before. She could prove for once that she was actually polite, despite her prissy appearance. Of course, she always proved those teachers wrong (the ones who did assume that she was impolite), but the assumption was still a bit hurtful.

After a quick hello and a playful wink towards Tyler, Hailey strolled up to the teacher's desk. Ms. Jones was young and very pretty. Chances are, she was really popular with the boys in her classes. Very, very popular. And most teachers who were popular and young were amazing at... bending the rules for their students. No... Hailey didn't know any of this about Ms. Jones. Hailey Cooper was simply the master of assumptions, especially when it came to people. And even though she didn't know this, that assumed fact made her want to prove herself even more worthy and more respectful.

"I'm so sorry I'm late Ms. Jones," Hailey said, flashing her best smile at the brunette. "I have a pass right here." She handed over her pass and shrugged her messenger bag first her up on to her narrow shoulder. "I'm sorry for interrupting the class. I can just... take a seat next to Ty if that's okay." She didn't even wait for an answer. After all, Mrs. Rivers had never cared, and she had had classes with her for the past 3 years. She just sat down next to Ty and took a book out of her bag. "He's come out with another one" She said quietly to him, rolling her eyes.

Marie blinked up at the girl who had approached her and then took the pass from her, reading it over and reading the name 'Hailey Cooper'. "The only one I was actually told about." She mumbled, laughing silently to herself and then nodding to Hailey as she walked towards the desk. "Oh but Hailey." She smiled to the girl. "Try not to be late in future reference." She smiled gently at the cute young girl who had sat down next to another boy in the classroom. She was a pretty cute looking girl. But... she didn't look quite right. She was showing off a bit too much and was wearing too much make up. 'Only a little, if any at all dear.' She thought towards the girl, before standing up from the desk and looking around at all of the class.

"So, I guess that's everyone." She clapped her hands together once and then rubbed them together a couple of times, a pencil clearly sticking out from within her ear. "Well, some of you I recognize, Some I don't, but all the same that doesn't really matter does it? You're all honor students, meaning you'll all love this subject and take it as it comes. That's all I could ask for really." She grinned happily and then gestured a hand to herself. "My name is Ms. Jones, but in this room, you can call me Marie." She found herself giggling as she spotted a look of confusion on one of the kids faces. "Yes, it seems weird, considering you call all your other teachers Miss, Mrs, Ms, Mr etcetera etcetera. But, when your all grown up, it'll be rare when you have to get someone's attention by saying 'Miss'." All the while she was talking, she kept that same eager smile on her face and took in all of the kids appearances and expressions. "Now, for today, I want you to do whatever you wish. If you need any materials please ask. I'd just like to see the kind of things you guys can do. It's always fun to just do any old thing too. I can put on the radio if you want and I'm just going to kinda be doing some personal peer assessment." She gave everyone a grin and then made a kind of gesture as if to say 'Go.'

"Oh and also! I'm almost always in this room. During lunches, breaks, after school, before school, just a lot of the time. If you guys want to come into do extra time, the extra company certainly won't be unappreciated." Marie smiled, before getting out some materials and placing them on a table which the students had left free. She stood back and then turned on the radio, leaving it quiet as background noise. She was actually very excited. Having a class simply for art students that could pass with flying colors, it just made her so excited. She could take them to exhibitions, art galleries, famous landmarks to take pictures and paint straight onto canvas'. It would just be so fun.

Hailey only looked over towards Ms. Jo- Marie (That would certainly take some getting used to) for a minute before pulling out her sketchpad. When a teacher, or any adult for that matter asked to see what she could do, she was always up for the challenge. And even though Marie had been speaking t the entire class, she couldn't help but take it personally. Anyway, she had been late, and though she hadn't felt bad earlier, she felt it now. She was only going to be in this class until she was told to leave. And that had happened before. Last year... first period music had apparently gotten in the way of her testing. She had gotten a C on a science test ad her mother had demanded that she be put into a more academic class. She had liked music too...

"So Ty," she said nonchalantly, opening her pad to a untouched page "How's Nate doing? I heard his dad was pretty pissed about... what happened." She drew a vuege outline of what looked like a squash with a log sticking out of the side

Tyler brushed his hair out of his eyes and shrugged in his own way of confirmation. It was sad really, how closed minded a person could be, and Nathan Yates' dad was one of those people. Hailey moved her chair closer to his and looked at the empty desk in front of him. He was a good artist, but he could never decide what to draw. He seemed to want everything to have a meaning. Hailey on the other hand just liked to draw what she was feeling. It didn't take much, one simple thought really.

When Hailey was sure that Tyler really didn't feel like talking to her, she actually got to work. She wasn't about to draw anything personal, so she decided to fix an old drawing. And by fix, she meant re-drawing it. By the time fifteen minutes was up, her art was actually beginning to look like what it was supposed to be. And after half an hour of shading and erasing and being in her own world, away from her thoughts about classes and home and being hungry and being more tired than she probably should be, she was happy with her work. It wasn't perfect, but that was what she loved about art. It didn't need to be perfect. It simply needed to be honest.

And now that class was almost over, she had a finished piece of art in front of her. A line drawing of her old puppy, who she had un-creatively named Blondie. She had been an adorable golden lab. But her mom had gotten rid of it, claiming that it had been dirty and it had distracted her from her responsibilities. This picture had nothing to do with that day though. It was simply the adorable, sleeping puppy that she had loved.

Marie had gone walking around all of the tables, talking to the students and getting to know them a little bit better whilst also keeping in mind the kind of things they could and couldn't do. Marie had gone to Ty's book and looked at it before seeming to shrug it off. "It's fine. Some days you just can't get. In the mood to do it." she smiled to the boy. "I mean, it's the same with every subject. If you don't feel like doing mats, you'll automatically do less than you normally would." she smiled at Ty and gave him a slip of paper, one that she'd given to each person in the class.

Eventually Marie made it to Hailey, and looked over her shoulder. "Aww a puppy, that's adorable" she said with a genuine coo. She looked at the puppy with a giant smile and then looked to Hailey. "Dogs are so sweet. Most animals are really, but still. Is this a dog of yours?" she tilted her head in a questioning manner. She'd ask about arty stuff in a minute, but right now she had to ask the important stuff. She had always wanted a dog, and therefore when seeing one, she often coo'd about it.

When Marie asked about her drawing, Hailey suddenly wished she had drawn something else. Or at least drawn Blondie with the thought in her mind that she wasn't drawing her , simply a puppy that she had seen in the shelter... A puppy that seemed to be everywhere in her sketch book... It wasn't that she minded Ms. Jones seeing her drawing, just that it felt like exploitation to draw this for class. But once the damage was done, it was done. there was no use denying that. Hailey looked up at the older woman and gave her a sideways smile. "Uhm, well she was mine when I was like... seven. But not anymore" She shrugged as if she didn't care and erased a stray pencil mark.

"It's good to know that you like dogs though" She added with a smirk that was entirely fake. "I tend to drw them a lot. Because you're right, they really are sweet animals; my favourites actually." Well... most of her drawings in class were about animals in general. They were often the least personal thing anyone could draw besides flowers. She brushed eraser shavings off the desk and waited for Marie to hand her a slip, desperately curious as to what was on them.

Marie smiled gently to the girl and then bent down, leaning into her ear and taking in a breath. "You don't need to fake things to get people to like you." she whispered, having got that vibe ever since the girl entered the room. "Be yourself, and then you'll be happier with yourself." Marie pulled back, looking back to the drawing and then pulling the slip of paper out of her pocket and sliding it onto her desk. "There's multiple exhibitions and events happening throughout the year, as well as multiple galleries to visit." Upon the list were a series of dates and places as well as a small description for each one, describing what media they specialised in and the kinds of things you could see. "You guys are old enough to get yourselves there now. I'd happily come with you, but I know how uncool it is to be seen with a teacher." she laughed a little and then held her hands together behind her back. "It's simply something that could help your studies, as well as being quite a lot of fun if you really are enthusiastic about your art and you really enjoy it."

She smiled pleasantly to Hailey. She could half tell that she was the kind of girl who enjoyed art a lot, but seemed to hold back a little. As if, something was stopping her from reaching that full potential she could get. She'd seen it quite a lot over the years, and it dissapoonted her slightly, but she never showed it. "Hope you can go Hailey, to at least one of them. The first gallery is open this friday, from three to about nine. But at the weekends it's open nine in the morning to six in the evening. If you want me to come with, I'll happily give you a ride there." she said, curls bouncing on her shoulders as she spoke.

Hailey felt herself tense up when Marie pointed out that she didn't need to be fake to be liked. Who did this lady think she was? She was an art teacher. She probably knew nothing about how it felt to be hated by students. No one ever hated the art teacher. Besides... she was beautiful. Beautiful people got everything in this world. They got noticed, they where liked, they didn't have to look at people and know that no matter what, they would never be as good as them. Hailey had no choice but to be fake. How could a beautiful, independent adult have any idea how it felt to never be good enough? She didn't show her annoyance though. What kind of fake would she be if she let that happen? Instead she mumbled a quick no thank you in regards to Ms. Jones' offer. It was humiliating enough that she had been caught in one of her acts. It wasn't until the end of the class only a few minutes later that she even looked at the teacher again. And it was to apologize. After all, she really hadn't meant to be rude. And acting like she didn't care was a horrible way to start off the beginning of the school.

So maybe going to the art gallery wouldn't be too bad after all, though Hailey had always preferred making art to looking at it. "Ms. Jones..." Hailey began, walking up to her desk after the bell had rang. She couldn't bring herself to call her Marie. "I'm free this Friday and I figured that if you wanted to go to the art gallery... you wouldn't need to pick me up on Friday and I'm busy this weekend. So, could you give me a ride?" It was a lie, about this weekend, but a necessary one. How do you explain to an art teacher that your mother despised art with such a passion that she wouldn't even let you go to an art gallery on the weekend. at least this way she could use the old "science club" excuse.

Marie looked up from her desk when Hailey had approached her once the bell rang and her face lit up at the question. She'd assumed by Hailey's response that the girl had been repulsed by the idea of going to an art gallery, and going with a teacher at that would be ridiculous. However, she was now pleasantly surprised. And as well as that, she now had something to do on friday, instead of sitting home bored and alone. "Of course I can Hailey, that sounds wonderful. I'm so glad you came around to it." She grinned, scribbling down notes to find out the post code of the gallery to type into her SatNav. "Are you a fan of surrealism?" She asked, tilting her head and smiling up to the girl. "I don't know about you, but I find that surrealism is both interesting, and quite funny in a silly way."

As she talked to Hailey, she'd realized that next period was a free period. She therefore decided to collect up all the spare materials that were taken out for that class, whilst also partially keeping in mind about keeping some clay out for herself to make a model of a girl and a boy holding hands and walking along. Simple figurines, but sometimes the simplistic stuff was most effective. She still awaited Hailey's response with a small smile, unable to help but notice that she had gotten some eyeliner smudged under her eye. She really was wearing too much. All the same, she didn't say anything. It wasn't her place...

And, of course, his old friend who wasn't so much of a friend anymore was being rude, as usual. That was just cruel! Couldn't he see Vasiliy was being nice here? Vasiliy was offering to hang out with Dorian. Unpopular kids like Dorian never got chances like that, to hang out with one of the most popular kids in the school. It was cruel, and downright rude of him to decline. Vasiliy knew that now should be the point in time where he stormed off, but that would probably completely ruin his chances of actually being able to ask Dorian out and get revenge on his ex-girlfriend as well as managed to complete the dare.

He had to stay calm and try to be nice, no matter how rude Dorian was going to get. Otherwise he would never manage to complete the dare.

"You were thrown into a locker? I didn't see," he lied, deciding it would be best to play ignorant. Of course he had seen, but did Dorian really expect that he would do anything? Not only would it be far too uncool for him to be seen helping the least popular male in the school, but the jocks who attacked Dorian would also probably view Vasiliy as a target. If there was anything Vasiliy didn't want, it was to be considered a target. He had been popular for too long to want to fall from his ranking. Not to mention, he had already spent time 'training' the jocks that he was not one to mess with. Despite being fairly rich, Vasiliy still hated paying hospital bills, especially his own, and didn't want to have to 'retrain' the jocks. Besides, his parents didn't like it when he fought.

Not that Vasiliy ever actually paid attention to what his parents liked or disliked, but he could still lie to himself and tell him that he did care.

"Well, that's the perfect excuse to come to the movies later," he stated, as if that were the natural thing to think. "There's nothing like having something to look forward to after a bad morning slash day." Not that Vasiliy would know anything of what it was like to have a bad day; his money ensured that the worst thing to happen to him was boredom. Getting into fights didn't count as bad events because he rather enjoyed them. Right now was probably the worst event of his life, in fact.

Why wasn't Dorian just agreeing to go to the movies? Most girls would be falling head over heels to actually be able to go somewhere with Vasiliy. Of course, Dorian wasn't a girl. For some reason, Vasiliy kept forgetting that. It wasn't that Dorian looked all that feminine, nor did he act particularly girly, so Vasiliy couldn't understand why he kept forgetting to view Dorian as another male. Maybe it was just his mind trying to block it out so that he wouldn't have to think about the fact that he, a straight guy, was attempting to ask another guy out on a date.

He decided to just continue avoiding seeing Dorian as a male. It was easier for him to talk to Dorian that way. Now if only Dorian would stop being so freaking stubborn!

Vasiliy really hated stubborn people. They were one of his biggest pet peeves. Of course, considering he could easily outmatch a mule in a stubbornness competition, Vasiliy wasn't really one to speak. Funnily enough, he also hated hypocrites. In fact, there were quite a few of his personality traits that he hated when they showed up in other people. He had yet to realise that he hated just about everything that made up his personality.

Dorian blinked a couple of times. Was this guy being serious? Like, really serious? For once in his life he was baffled completely. As soon as Dorian had focussed more on his future, it had been like he wasn't allowed to have friends. And it seemed that Vasiliy was the one to prove that by simply leaving him to himself in the school grounds. He used to be a friendly, sweet, shy kid. Although he'd never admit it, he was. And now, look at him. Bulky fish-bowl glasses, shoved into a locker near enough every day and living life trying to get along without thinking about the chaos and depression he could go into at any moment. He didn't give a flying donkey's ass about popularity, but it seemed that in order to get somewhere at this age, you needed some of it. And he just couldn't find any...

"Vasiliy, I must say, that sounds more like something I'd dread than look forward to." Dorian said, folding his arms together and then pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He let out a small sigh.

Part of Dorian, a small part of him was thinking about the Vasiliy he knew as a kid. Perhaps he'd change. Maybe he does that. Just flip from best friend to total douche-bag. Or maybe he was just wishing that. Yeah it was probably that. This was probably going to be for some lame joke with his new douche-bag friends. They're all douche-bags...

Dorians face softened slightly as he suddenly felt a little sad, and yet... incredibly intrigued. "Why do you want to go to the movies with me anyway." Dorian mumbled, though it was comprehensible enough for Vasiliy to understand. "You and I both know it'd be just as lousy for you as it would for me." Though Dorian didn't know it was entirely true.

For all he knew, Vasiliy would actually be his normal self and maybe, just maybe, Dorian could enjoy himself. Maybe. Probably not. But those pondering questions were the one's running through his mind, and he couldn't help but think them over and over. "I don't understand this... This."

“I’ve actually never really formed an opinion on surrealism as a whole” Hailey said, the slightest of smiles evident on her lips. “I guess it all depends on the artist. I like most art that I’ve seen really, so I guess that it’s just... art to me. The genre doesn’t matter. It really depends on the quality” She almost shook her head at herself, realizing that she was rambling to herself in a way. After all, Hailey wasn’t the type to really talk with her teachers all that often. She simply did the work they expected of her. “But yes,” she concluded with a slight grin, “I guess I am a fan.” She looked around the room, which had been left a bit messy. “Do you by any chance want some help cleaning up after everyone? I have gym after this so I really doubt I’d be missing much.”

And she would be missing nothing at all. She didn’t bring gym clothes due to the fact that this was the first day of school and she would probably just have to sign some silly safety contract. And she actually enjoyed the company of this teacher. She seemed nice, easygoing, and like a human being instead of some robot that had no life outside of school. She wouldn’t show it, but she was looking forward to Friday. Not only had Hailey never been to an art gallery, but she had also never been on a trip with a teacher that was enjoyable. She had always worried about the silliest things during them.