California

Emily sits in the passenger seat of the car, quietly looking out the window as they pass by buildings. Emily is in the car with her uncle who is chatting up a storm. He had just picked her up from the hospital, and is driving her to her new school where she going to attending. She sighs quietly and crouches down a little in her seat, not really looking forward to this new school, it feels like everything is happening too fast. She hasn't even had time to mourn the loss of her parents properly the way she would like to and now she being taken from the only house she's ever known and the only school she's ever know to move in with family that she's never met and to attend a school that she really doesn't want to attend. Emily feels a single tear roll down her cheek but she wipes it away quickly as they pull up to the school.

"Well here you are. I'll take your stuff back to the house. Your cousin will be giving you a ride home, you both have lunch together as well as a few classes." Says her uncle who hands Emily her class schedule. "Thank you." Emily says taking the schedule from him and walking into the school before he can say another word. She walks into the school, seeing the hallways full of students, boys and girls, which that in itself is new to her, going to school with boys. She forces her attention down to her class schedule in her hands, knowing her locker number should be on it somewhere. She frowns a little as she looks over her schedule.

Ryder is standing with his normal group of goons, his band, talking about nothing in particular. One of the members, his drummer, looks up from the group. He lets out a low whistle. "Check out the new kid! Ow ow, honey! C'mon over here!" He says waving to Emily as he does. Ryder rolls his eyes, letting out a sigh and giving her an apologetic glance.

Ryder punches the guys arm, which gets a loud ow out of his friend. "Show a little respect, Greg! She's obviously scared shitless!" The guy he addressed as Greg mutters a sorry and grabs his bag. Another guy from the group follows Greg, and they walk off. Ryder is left with two other members, who also disband. Ryder jogs to catch up to Emily, his long hair falling in his eyes.

'Hey, sorry about Greg. He's an ass," Ryder says with a short glance. "Welcome to Hopeless...I mean Hopewell High," Ryder says before stopping short at his locker and kicking it. It flies open without him putting in any combination and he grabs a grubby looking, black back pack with holes covered by duct tape and pins everywhere.

Ryder takes off for his first class, English. Won't Miss Casey be thrilled to see me again! He thinks to himself. He's in Senior English, but Miss Casey has been his teacher for at least one class every year. Freshmen year it was Creative Writing, Sophomore year it was Public Speaking, Junior year it was Poetry, and now Senior English and Mythology. Ryder smirked. His Senior year was going to be a blast.

Emily's cheeks flame red as she hears a boy call out to her. 'Oh, I wish I could just disappear,' She thinks, keeping her head down as she turns and starts to walk off down the hall in search of her locker. She looks up surprised as another boy walks up to her to apologize for the other boy. "Oh, um, it's alright." Emily says quietly, as she glances up at the boy briefly before glancing down at her schedule again. She finally finds her locker and puts her back pack in it, taking out the book she'll need for her first class. She glances at her schedule once more seeing that her first class is Senior English. She has always been good in her studies and has been able to skip a few classes since the curriculum at her old school was pretty far ahead of this school.

Emily holds her books close to her chest as she turns and walks down the hallway to class. She holds her head up high, her back straight as she walks into class just as the bell rings. "You must be Emily Rosewood." The teacher says, smiling at Emily. "Yes, ma'am." She says with a small nod of her head, talking the teacher with the up most respect as she had been taught from a young age. The teacher smiles, pleasantly surprised by Emily's manners. "Go ahead and take a seat Ms. Rosewood." the teacher says, nodding to the desks. Emily turns and glances over the rows of students, but only sees one empty seat, next to the guy who had come up to her and apologized for his friend. She takes a deep breath and slowly walks back to the empty seat and sits down. She can feel people staring at her, but she does her best to ignore it.

Ryder smiles at Emily. "Sorry about rushing off last time we encountered," He nods to the square bulge (obviously a pack of cigarettes) in his pocket. "Addiction called, and a whole day without one kind of makes me crabby,"

"Mr. Carrington. Are we going to have another year like the last three?" The teacher asks Ryder in a half sarcastic, half serious voice. Ryder shakes his head in mock upset at her scolding him. "I can't hear a head shake, Mr. Carrington," The woman responds in a very motherly tone.

Ryder sighs, his dark hair coming out of his face slightly. "No, Jess...I mean Miss Casey. We won't have another year like last year. By the way, Jess, you look hot for having just had a baby," Ryder winks, letting out a low whistle. The woman stiffens, but doesn't seem to let the comment get to her.

"Well we can discuss my weight loss techniques in detention this afternoon, Mr. Carrington." She states with blunt authority. Ryder smiles his smug, sarcastic smile and goes back to his notebook. The particular page he is working on is covered in thick, black ink with music and lyrics scrawled in nearly illegible handwriting on it.

Miss Casey goes back to her lecture, handing out a synopsis and explaining what the year will be like. Ryder focuses on his song, humming a few bars to make sure it sounds good. Once, about twenty minutes before the end of class, he glances at Emily. "What sounds better," He asks before he starts to sing quietly. "'I never believed in a heaven, only in a Hell. That's the life I've always known and it's never treated me well' or does this sound better: 'The only life I've ever lived, I've called my personal Hell. If there was a God, and a heaven, maybe it could end well,' . I want you to be 100% honest about which you like better," He adds after clearing his throat from singing. He's extremely talented.