A/N: Okie, I’m rewriting this chapter because… oh my god, I don’t even need to state why. Just know that this chapter used to be so stupid, corny and lame. cringes Oh yeah, and this story used to be called Looks Can be Deceiving, so just ignore the bold title in the other chapters. I’m too lazy to change them all. Okay well… erm, enjoy!

Mixed Signals

Chapter 1.

“MORE PANCAKES!” A lady around her early 40s shouted from the living room to the teenage female in the kitchen. “GABBY WE NEED MORE PANCAKES! 50 ARE NOT ENOUGH! BRING AT LEAST 30 MORE PANCAKES! GABBY—“

“Coming, coming.” Gabrielle Lewis murmured under her breath as she quickly picked up the plate resting on the table, which was piled high with pancakes. Her hands carefully gripped the plate as she cautiously made her way to the living room.

She at once spotted her mother happily serving about thirty or more people sitting around the living room. Gabrielle warily treaded her way, not wanting to step on a random person lying on the ground. She reached her mother and set the plate down on the coffee table.

“Mmmwah.” Mrs. Lewis leaned over and quickly kissed her daughters’ forehead. “Thank you dear. Wont you have some before going to school? They look delicious, sweetie.”

They looked anything but. Gabrielle smiled faintly and quickly shook her head. “Um, no thanks mom… I’m going to be late and I’ll miss the bus. See you after school, okay? Bye.”

But her mother was no longer paying attention. Mrs. Lewis was busy helping out a lady with paper plates, shouting over the din heartily. Gabrielle sighed inwardly before walking out the living room. It wasn’t as if this was anything new. Her mother always tends to forget she was there.

Gabrielle reached the front hall and leaned down to grab her backpack off the stairs. She slowly pulled it on, brushing back her long dark hair. Gabrielle headed over to the front door and stepped out, swiftly closing the door lightly behind her.

The morning was cool and quiet, just as Gabrielle liked it. She hated loud noises and crowds because she barely had any quiet time for herself. Half of the day she spent at school, around people, and the other half mostly at home, which was occupied by a little more than thirty people. It was crazy.

            To make a long story short, Gabrielle’s mother once ran a ‘Help the Homeless’ program. She didn’t receive as much community help as she had hoped. Mrs. Lewis decided that it was, she, who had to make the first move and sacrifice to get the rest of the community to pitch in and help the… less fortunate.

So, the last thing Gabrielle’s mother did was invite the entire homeless into their once, beautiful home. They occupied the first living room, den, and two bathrooms inside of the Lewis’s five-bedroom home.

Anyway, once the media heard about what her mother had done, a TV crew for some sort of channel, and reporters landed on their front lawn. Suddenly exposed to public, Gabrielle’s life took a steep turn downwards. Her once normal life was now too painful to live. At school she was labeled some sort of freak. The friends she used to have, now skirted off somewhere—away from her. Her only loyal friend was her best friend, Horus Gillweed.

Gabrielle’s relationship with her mother grew distant. Mrs. Lewis now was always off, on business trips of some sort, interviews, or publicity conferences. She made up the lost time with money. Checks, cash, credit cards.

Gabrielle sighed and zipped up her jacket, shifting the weight of her heavy pack crammed with books. She headed for the bus stop, head down. A few kids stood waiting, talking and chattering animatedly amongst one another.

Gabrielle tried to come up behind them unnoticed, but failed. A curly blonde female turned around, face scrunching together.

“Ew, get away from me, freak.” She exclaimed, dancing away. “Don’t touch me with your infested homeless hands!”

The comment didn’t make sense, and the blondes’ friends knew this. But they laughed anyway, turning away from Gabrielle and resuming their loud chatter.

It seemed to be the only thing anyone said to Gabrielle now. If they talked to her, it had to do something with her house occupying the homeless, if not, they didn’t talk to her at all. The comments and calls were small—but snide.

Gabrielle stared blankly at the girl, not moving her mouth to retaliate. Why bother? The rest of her friends would just gang up upon her and throw her down in the mud or something childish.

She miserably sighed inwardly. This day wasn’t going to be any better than the rest. She wished she didn’t have to almost always ride the bus. It was torture going through it every morning. The kids in there were so insensitive and cruel. Not one of them pitied her being bullied, and if they did, they didn’t show it.

The only highlight of riding the bus was that no jock or cheerleader would be caught dead in one. If there was one thing Gabrielle really despise, it was the jocks, cheerleaders, and company. Making her life even more unbearable seemed to be their favorite pastime. They did it often, and there really was no way for her to avoid their torment.

Gabrielle’s stomach twisted painfully just thinking about facing them again. She could usually stand if one person made cruel jokes about her to her face, but when they brought their entire posse, she wanted to die or disappear. She hated them.

“Yo freak, the bus is here.” A guy yelled.

Gabrielle’s head snapped up. She had been so engrossed in her depressed thoughts that she hadn’t realized the big yellow bus had finally come. She nodded her head to show that she understood, which only made them crack up as they boarded the bus.

“Are you going to stay or what, Lys?”

“I’ll try. I swear!”

“You always say that.” The girl standing before Gabrielle sighed, annoyed. “You know, it’s your loss! You’re the one who doesn’t get to see Matt practice.”

The other girl, ‘Lys’ groaned. “Don’t remind me!” she whined. “It’s not fair. I just have so much activities I cant stay to watch.”

Her friend shrugged superiorly as they dropped into a seat. “Your loss.” She repeated before sighing dreamily. “He looks so good…”

Gabrielle found a lone seat all the way in the back. The seat was always empty. The others in the bus had graciously named it the ‘Freak Bench’. It was reserved especially for her.

Gabrielle slumped into the seat, bitter thoughts once again rebounding back after she had heard the two girls’ conversation. Of course, they’re talking about popular, gorgeous, star of the football team Matthew Willar, she thought viciously. Matt was only the guy who seemed to love messing with Gabrielle more than any other jock or cheerleader. He messed with her when he was happy, when he was bored, when he had no reason to, or when he was angry. He seemed to think making her miserable was the only solution for his anger. He was jerk. A self-absorbed, arrogant, egotistical jerk.

“Oh my god, did you go to the game last weekend, Josh?” Ahead, Lys was squealing excitedly to another friend. “Matt was…like, oh my god, the best!”

“Matt played so good!” her friend added enthusiastically.

Gabrielle grinded her teeth, trying to block out their high pitch squeals and voices. Matt was the only thing the stupid girls at Cooper High talked about nowadays. His name itself was a torment.

“I talked to Matt yesterday!” yet another girl half way across the bus shrieked. “No, I swear guys! I really did. He was soooo NICE!”

Gabrielle snorted to herself. He was anything but nice.

“Liar!” her friend screamed, awestruck. “Why didn’t you tell me?!”

“Um—because! He said to keep it a secret!”

Gabrielle gritted her teeth. One more comment about the jerk, and was going to literally explode. She already had to face him, like first thing in the morning during the English class they had together. Did she really need this right now?

“Test results!” Mrs. Windburn the AP English teacher called gaily. “Test results for American Flag!”

Gabrielle sat up attentively. Test results were always something she looked forward to. Studying all night, preparing all week; she liked getting an A for all of her hard work.

She also was paying close attention, just to appear to the bigheaded jerk sitting in the back that she thought he wasn’t worth half her time. But of course, that didn’t always work. Actually, it never worked.

Matt always seemed to have a smirk frozen on his face around her. There was no way she could win with him. Gabrielle closed her eyes as another one of his stupid paper airplanes hit the side of her head. She was sick of hearing his obnoxious laughter.

Mrs. Windburn sighed. “Mr. Willar, please stop throwing these childish paper airplanes around the room.” Gabrielle hated how the teachers never really were serious with him. They acted as if they simply couldn’t yell at the star quarterback.

“Sorry,” was Matt’s usual careless response.

Gabrielle grabbed the paper airplane off her table and violently ripped it to pieces, anger pounding in her head. She swallowed, trying to control her fury as Matt’s scornful laughter reached her ears once again.

Mrs. Windburn sharply rapped on her table. “That’s enough, Mr. Willar!” Matt merely smiled sweetly at her, but ceased all actions. Satisfied, Mrs. Windburn continued.

“I am pleased to say, that most of you have achieved passing grades. We have the usual, two A’s.” Everyone in the classroom rolled their eyes in unison as Mrs. Windburn beamed at Gabrielle, and Horus, who was in the same class. They always received A’s.

Horus, who was sitting beside Gabrielle, grinned broadly, turning in his seat and nodding to his fellow classmates. They curled their lips in disgust back. Anyone associated with the Freak, a.k.a herself, were instantly disliked. But Horus was also known as a geek, so it didn’t really matter.

“Yes, yes congrats to Mr. Gillweed and Ms. Lewis!” Mrs. Windburn clapped enthusiastically, but stopped fairly short afterwards when nobody followed suit. She cleared her throat, businesslike.

“Unfortunately,” Mrs. Windburn continued. “There is only one person, who did not pass.” She turned her gaze upon (Gasp, Gabrielle thought sarcastically) Mr. Star Quarterback and King of the School himself.

Matt’s smile was wiped off instantly and he slumped in his seat sulkily. His eyes were glumly downcast.

“Mr. Willar,” Mrs. Windburn sighed. “This is your second F for this semester. I am starting to feel that AP is much too hard for you—”

“It’s only a quiz grade!” Matt interjected. “It’s not like its for the whole year or something.”

The female teacher sighed dramatically once again. “Maybe we should move you to a lower level.” Mrs. Windburn said.

Gabrielle felt a pleasant feeling deep in her gut when his face flushed lightly in embarrassment. There, let him have a small taste of his own medicine for once. A smile formed at her lips as she watched his sullen figure.

Mrs. Windburn also noticed his morose state. “Well, does anybody have a suggestion to help our fellow student in need?” she glanced around the room expectantly.

After a minute or so, one of the blondes in the room raised their hand. Gabrielle inwardly mocked surprise.

Mrs. Windburn however nodded in the girls’ direction. “Ms. Carlton?”

“Well um, like why doesn’t Matt—“ the blonde giggled, suddenly aware that she was center of attention. Gabrielle scoffed under her breath. “—get like, extra help and stuff?”

Mrs. Windburn frowned for a second. “Extra help? What do you mean.”

Blonde straightened up brightly. “Like, ya know! A helper.” She gestured.

Mrs. Windburn raised an eyebrow. “A helper? What are you talking about?”

Blonde sighed impatiently. “Like—like ya know! A helper! A helper-helper!” she looked around the room for help.

“Ms. Carlton,” Mrs. Windburn’s tone was of annoyance. “What are you trying to say?”

The girl looked desperate now, blushing furiously. “A helper,” she wailed. “You guys know what a helper is! Don’t you?” her blue eyes looked pleadingly at her blonde friends, who sat dumbfounded, looking back at her stupidly.  “I forgot the word! I know the word! You guys know it! Why doesn’t Matt get a helper?” there was a note of anxiety now, and she blushed even harder as even Matt stared at her in disbelief. “A helper—“

“You mean a tutor.” Gabrielle spoke up.

All eyes turned to her now.

Blonde shrieked, leaping from seat. “Yeah! A tutor! DUH!” she looked around. “That’s what I meant!” she laughed, it sounded forced. “You guys are so stupid!”

“Mhm,” Mrs. Windburn said tartly. “Sit down Ms. Carlton and thank you Ms. Lewis.”

Gabrielle simply looked away as Blonde now reddened in humiliation. “Thanks a lot, freak.” She hissed, once she got the opportunity. “I had everything under control—“

“Well, what do you think, Mr. Willar?” Mrs. Windburn asked. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”

Matt looked outraged. “I don’t need a tutor!” he said spitefully. “I can handle this shit on my own!”

Mrs. Windburn pursed her lips. “Well, think about it Mr. Willar—“ the bell rang. “No homework for everyone since you passed my test!”

“Quiz.” Matt muttered.

She ignored him and beamed at the moving class.

Gabrielle stood up, but was just pushed back down because of the sudden rushed traffic. Five seconds later, Gabrielle exited the room by herself. Mrs. Windburn flashed her a fond smile before returning back to her work.

She spotted her best fiend up ahead. Gabrielle had intended on talking to Horus but he blew her off, yelling how he needed to get to Bio Chemistry early so he could talk with the teacher about some other test. She mentally scowled before turning her heel.

Gabrielle headed for her locker but fell to a stop and swallowed. Matt was pacing relentlessly in front of her locker, fists clenched. Just great. He was angry, and like he always did, was going to take it all out on her.

Gabrielle uttered a soft sigh. She hated this. She hated this part the most. Being the center of attention and the target of humiliation. It made her feel so… worthless. The bullying, the teasing, the jokes… Gabrielle was honestly tired of it.

“What’s your problem?” Matt growled, suddenly spotting her, and walking up to her, eyes narrowed.

“Excuse me?” she said in the most timid voice she could muster. He liked it best when she appeared frightened so she might as well… he was in a bad mood already.

“I don’t need you butting in on my business,” he spat. “I’ll handle my problems on my own.”

Gabrielle merely lowered her gaze. “Okay. I’m sorry.” She had no idea what he was talking about.

“I don’t need a fucking tutor,” Matt continued, lips curled into a snarl.

Oh. So that’s it.

“Stay out of my face,” he said menacingly, before a sudden malevolent smile graced his ‘god given’ features. “In fact, stay out of my life.” Matt shoved her most brutally, sending her crashing into the lockers. Students in the hallway laughed openly at the sound of the crash.

Gabrielle pushed herself back rightfully on her feet a bit shakily. He intimidated her, but she was more grateful that he hadn’t exactly stir up a frighteningly large crowd with all of his cruel cronies by his side like last time.

The bell suddenly rang again, causing the poor girl to jump in surprise. Oh no! I’m late for Pre-Calculus! Mr. Pickett’s going to flip!

Gabrielle was very smart and took her studies seriously. She was never late for a class. She was never tardy for school, and in fact, she never missed school at all except if she caught the flu or was down with a high fever.

And now, for the first time, (courtesy of Matthew Willar), she was late for one of her most favorite classes.

Gabrielle ran to her locker to grab books and homework before sprinting down the hall for her class. Her speed appeared as if her life depended on it… but then again, maybe it did.

His tiny, beady eyes stared up at her, wide and large with astonishment and shock. His mouth moved beneath his bushy moustache, but no words were issued. He couldn’t state how disappointed and stunned he was.

His silence was killing Gabrielle. She suddenly felt fearful of what he had to do.

“M-Ms. Lewis?” Mr. Pickett stuttered, attention focused most unwaveringly upon her. The rest of the class took the opportunity to socialize one another.

Gabrielle didn’t respond and continued to stare shamefully at her toes.

“What—why…” Mr. Pickett shook his head, as if trying to clear it. He cleared his voice alongside before talking once more in a stronger voice. “Why are you late, Ms. Lewis? What is the meaning of this? You know how important and vital my class is for the future you intend to build!”

“I'm sorry,” she mumbled. “I was held up—“

“Surely my class means more than what you are displaying for me now!” He continued, voice raw with emotion.

Gabrielle bit her lower lip. “Yes, sir.” She murmured. “They are. They mean the world to me, it’s just that—“

“I cant even tell you how disappointed I am in you!” Mr. Pickett went on. “You were never in after the warning bell rang, let alone ten minutes after.”

What’s ten minutes? She hopelessly thought. Did he explain a new lesson which I missed today or—

“Now, you are wasting another ten minutes, not only of your time, and mine but the rest of the classes’ too!” his voice thundered sternly. “Now give me your excuse. What held you up?”

Gabrielle lifted her head respectfully and opened her mouth, but just like her male teacher, no words came out. What on earth was she supposed to say? ‘You know Matthew Willar? Yeah, the guy everybody loves and teachers adore? Well yeah, he was bullying me a few minutes ago’. Right. The teacher would never believe Perfect, Good, and School Valedictorian Nominee Matthew Willar would do such a thing.

“I—I…” Gabrielle faltered and despised herself for it as Mr. Pickett narrowed his eyes. “I… I don’t know.” She mumbled, lowering her head again. “I’m sorry.”

Mr. Pickett nodded and pursed his lips, turning away before uttering one word, “Detention.”

            Gabrielle couldn’t even begin with the horror stored inside of her. Detention! She had never in her life received such a horrible punishment. The prospect was so terrifying that she had spent some of Pre-Calculus crying behind her large textbook.

Gabrielle’s sorrow quickly turned to a burning rage. A rage aimed at no one but herself. It was her fault. Her stupid, irresponsible fault. How could she have been late for Mr. Picketts’ class anyway?

Misery mounted inside her as Gabrielle timidly raised her hand, to knock on the closed door to detention. Her insides twisted apprehensively as the door opened, revealing a grumpy looking boy.

Gabrielle drew in her breath and took a small step back.

The boy stepped back also to expose Mrs. Windburn, who sat the large table at the front of the class. A sympathetic smile graced her aged features as she beckoned her inside.

Gabrielle took a step inside the gloomiest room she had ever been in. There was only one girl and four boys. They barely seemed to acknowledge her presence and stared off into space. Only the female was scribbling aimlessly on the desk top, the rest were slumped in their seats.

“Have a seat, Ms. Lewis.” Mrs. Windburn’s voice said kindly.

Gabrielle jumped before skirting towards an empty table near the exit, and the drawing girl.

The girl looked up and her eyes fell upon Gabrielle. Her eyes widened curiously. “What are you here for?” she demanded rudely.

Gabrielle looked down at the table. “Lateforclass.” She quickly mumbled.

“What’s that?” the girl didn’t bother to lower her tone.

“Ms. Carter, please do not bother Ms. Lewis.” Came Mrs. Windburn’s curt voice. The girl sat back properly, drawing again. But once she saw that Mrs. Windburn was once again busy with papers, she leaned to Gabrielle once more.

“Lewis huh?” she whispered. “I thought I recognized you. I didn’t hear you earlier. Why are you in here?” she grinned nastily. “Probably for being a freak.” She slapped her forehead mockingly. “Oh duuuuhhhh, I can be a bit dense some—“

“Ms. Carter,” Mrs. Windburn snapped. “One more word from you and you’ll be doing some of this work.” She gestured to the scattered table before her. Mrs. Windburn turned her attention to Gabrielle.

“Ms. Lewis?”

Gabrielle at once straightened up and said respectfully. “Yes, Mrs. Windburn?”

The other guys in the room snickered, silently mouthing her words and saluting each other mockingly. The girl beside her laughed most viciously. So what, Gabrielle thought with slight resentment. It’s not my fault they don’t respect their teachers.

“Will you come up here please?”

“Ooohhhh!” The four guys said in unison. Mrs. Windburn glared at them.

Gabrielle stood up and walked carefully up to her teacher. “Yes, Mrs. Windburn?” she said once again.

Her teacher smiled brightly up at her. “Ms. Lewis, do you remember what I said earlier to Mr. Willar? About the tutor thing?”

Gabrielle nodded robotically. “Yes Ma’am.” She was aware that the guys were still making fun of her, amusing each other with a mock impersonation of her and doubling over in silent fits of laughter.

“Well,” Mrs. Windburn’s smile broadened. “I was wondering if I could inflict this honor upon one of my most favorite student—yes, you!” She beamed excitedly at the frozen raven-haired female before her. “So what do you think? I wanted to ask you first, because I knew I could count on you! You never let me down!”

Gabrielle’s brain had went momentarily numb. Her? Tutor Matt? The blonde boy who passionately hated, despised, and made fun of her? She who secretly loathed him as well in return?

Are you out of your mind woman? Gabrielle raised her disbelieving green orbs up and suddenly felt her gut clench. Her teacher was staring confidently at her. So convinced that her best student would—couldn’t let her down. After all, she didn’t let any teacher down.

Except for Mr. Pickett, Gabrielle reminded herself.

The second the thought raced through her head, sudden determination flooded her body. She wouldn’t let Mrs. Windburn down like she had done Mr. Pickett. She would go through this… obstacle and succeed.

Her mouth opened, as usual, robotically. “Yes, Mrs. Windburn.”

Maybe, if she got through this, maybe it would make up for Mr. Pickett.

A/N: Good. I finally rewrote this chapter sighs noisily. Just note that the next few chapters haven’t been rewritten, that’s why erm… they suck? Yes, that’s why they suck. ‘Kay, hope you liked this chappie.