Chapter 1

It wasn't a bad place to be, Harrington; it was rather confusing and boring if you didn't know your way around. There were many different sections that belonged to certain society groups that were prohibited by others. Schools, schools were poor. The education was poor. And this story begins on a day in our house as I lay on my bed that had found its way to the floor.

"Jo! Get up!" Came Craig's voice, Craig being my stepfather.

"Why?" I yelled back. It was Saturday; he could live without talking to me or waking me up.

"Because we have to go to Stephanie's performance!"

Who cares about Stephanie? I thought to myself, rubbing the bridge of my nose with my hand.

"I don't want to go! I want to sleep!" I yelled back as I buried my face in my cotton filled pillow.

"Tough! Now come on." He was all right at times, but everyone favored Stephanie, and so did he. If Stephanie didn't want to go to one of my shows, that is if I had any, he would think that she was sick or was having a problem of some kind. I was too; I had a test on Monday that I wanted to get rested up for, in advance of course.

"How come I have to go?" I whined as I came down to the kitchen in my jeans and white shirt.

"Get something more appropriate on." Stephanie said as she ran around trying to find something in a plaid skirt and a blouse. "You have to go, I need you there."

"Oh please, you wouldn't need me if you were bleeding out of your eye sockets! Craig would be there for you, Craig to the rescue!" Craig! - The regular superman in dorky clothing.

I downed a glass of milk and whipped the remains off my upper lip with the towel that we put on the island for specific reasons such as those of milk mustache.

"Yes, I do." She said with a smile on her face, a rather pleading smile.

"No, you don't." I replied.

"Yes, I do." She has this gift of retorting with an innocent face.

"Will you cut it out already?"

"What?"

"Your incessant attempt to make everyone believe that you are a living miracle and possibly the next Julia Roberts!"

"Why would you think that?" She asked. Her eyes grew wide and she said, "Oh, I see. You're jealous because I'm doing all this stuff and you aren't."

"No! How conceited can you get?" There were times I wish I were a famous murderer so I could kill her and get away with it from my experience.

"Yes! It is, isn't it? Listen," She sat down next to me. "You will find something you're good at and you'll be good at it."

"What in the world are you talking about?" I felt a burning anger ignite in my chest.

"I understand,"

"Understand what? There's nothing to understand!"

"I think there is." Where was a hammer when you needed one?

"There isn't. Now, lay off you bipolar schizophrenic!" I let out a deep and heavy sigh and took off for my room.

"What ever you say." And now I felt even worse than I had at the beginning of the conversation. She had this uncanny ability to make other people, or just me, feel lowly.

So, I walked up to my room, in what people might call in a deep, unexplainable frustration, and I pulled a pair of socks and my boots on. By the time I got down, everyone was ready to go and we all piled into our blue Chevy. My older stepbrother, Derek, and I sat in the back while Stephanie, my younger brother Sammy, and Craig sat in the safety of inside the truck.

"So, how's school been going?" Derek asked on the way there. We had been acquaintances rather than friends. We fought, yet at the same time, we agreed. It was one of those unfathomable connections that we've had.

"Okay, I guess." The wind blew my hair back into my face and it started to irritate me. A group of male teenagers crowded around a video store, checking out the latest video games.

"Well, you haven't gotten kicked out yet."

"Or kept behind." Hey, eleventh grade isn't that easy, without the work and P.E. it is just going to classes to hear a teacher tell you about something you'll never use in the span of your entire life while dancing around the facts and taking a whole class period trying to explain something that they could have easily summed up as 1+12 AND in a monotonous tone, too.

"It could be put that way." He said with a solemn face.

"It has been." That was the end of the conversation. Derek and I didn't have that good of a relationship family wise. We would be better off as cousins or some other distant relative, but we weren't meant to be brother and sister, even if it was stepbrother and sister.

As all these thoughts ran through my head, we pulled into the parking lot of a rather large building with a disgusting green roof that strongly resembled rotten guacamole. I could feel myself sneer as Stephanie's best friend, and my worst enemy, Marissa, pranced up to the truck at a happy skip with a fake smile planted on her face.

"Hi, Stephanie! Derek, you look great!" When she said great she flipped her hair and smiled at him, blowing disgusting breath all over the place. She loved flirting with him.

"Brush lately?" I asked as I jumped out of the back. I didn't say that to defend Derek, although it did, I did it because she is the most exasperating, aggravating, bothersome, irritating, loud, obnoxious, conceited, egotistical, self-involved, vain, and annoying person that I have ever met and I actually wanted to know whether or not she was that far back in her life cycle that she never learned how to use a toothbrush. I'm not saying I've got a pair of pearly whites waiting to rot away in my gums, I'm saying she smelt like the bottom of a dumpster filled with excrete. Okay, maybe not that bad.

"Yes, you should get into the habit." She retorted indignantly.

"Of what? Wearing clothing that should be labeled as a hazard because of its total lack of meaning? Why don't you buy an outfit that covers something every once and a while?"

"Oh, Jo," Craig scolded as he stepped out of the truck. "Be nice."

"Why, she doesn't deserve it."

"Jo," He was so quick to believe that I was the only one making a mistake and as he walked on ahead, Marissa stuck her tongue out at me like the three year old she was and walked away leaving me angry.

"Fine, she doesn't deserve my time either."

I could hear him sigh as he turned and yelled, "That's good enough. Now, let's go before we're late!"

"Yeah, cause we wouldn't want THAT!" I mumbled sarcastically. No one heard, or bothered to listen. Sometimes I felt left out of the group. Derek knew how to play the piano, remarkably well, and that was his gift. Stephanie would soon grow up to be a terrific actress and Sammy was a little too smart. Me, I was odd. I had no defined goals or significant qualities besides my crude sarcasm.

Stephanie ran to the stage and back behind the red, velvety curtains as we walked into the oversized auditorium. It seemed as if everyone was wearing their best dress, and here I was in overalls and boots. Hey, it's not my fault I have 'Serious Psychopath' tattooed in bubble letters on my butt.

The lights dimmed and I dozed off as Stephanie walked on stage in costume and began her everlasting speech.

"Josephine Kimberly Carlisle! Wake up!" Great, Monday again and I wasn't paying attention in math class, again. Mrs. Harris looked frazzled as her bad tan glowed like a burnt pancake in the light.

"Sorry, was I bored?" I muttered.

"Detention."

"This afternoon?"

"Correct."

Smile... Smile big.

"What are you in for today, Josephine?" Asked the librarian, Mrs. Keeler. Her white hair was tied back in a tight bun and she wore a floral skirt and a purple blouse. Her glasses hung from their cord from around her wrinkled neck.

"Not paying attention and being a smart Alec." I knew I said that plainly because she raised an eyebrow suggestively.

"Again?" She smiled as I sighed and sat down in one of the empty desks. There weren't that many.

"Can I help it if we've been over all she's talking about before, three times? Crowded today, isn't it?" I asked as I looked around. I wasn't proud of my notorious reputation but I had been in detention time enough to know the average populace.

"A few more than usual, yes. But not to worry, we always have room for you."

"You're all so sweet." I took out my book and began reading chapters one through thirteen until we were all dismissed at four thirty.

I was walking home when I ran into my best friends since long ago, Kris and Marie Jensen. Brother and sister, they never agreed on anything besides not agreeing on anything.

"Hey there, girlie." Marie smiled as she walked up in her new outfit. It was a beige top with red pants.

"Hey." I smiled as I turned n my new outfit. A black sleeveless shirt with 'PUNK' proudly written across it in orange lettering, black long sleeves connected by safety pins, somewhat flared jeans, black boots, and my hair was in a messy bun. Also, a little touch of my own, there was holes at the ends of the sleeves for my thumbs.

"Chad Michael Murray was on Dawson's last night." Marie said happily. She sighed. "I'm in euphoria."

"You are sick!" Kris spat disgustedly.

"Hey, Chad Michael Murray's my equivalent of Sarah Michelle Gellar, except he doesn't kick butt, he just has a nice one, and I mean, nice!"

"Puke." Kris turned around as he rolled his eyes.

"If I had a nickel for every time I had to do that while you were watching Buffy, I'd be rich. I could BUY Chad Michael Murray!"

"Do I hear ten dollars?" I joked and Kris shot me a look.

"Don't encourage her. I'm begging you."

"It's so fun, though!"

"Fun? Fun? You haven't SEEN fun until you've been around her whining about that Chad something or other guy and practically repeating 'Mrs. Marie Murray' in her sleep."

"Wow, people should buy tickets to see that." I smiled and Marie giggled.

"But come on, Jo! The guy is a babe, you have to admit that."

"Well enough a babe, but not hot enough to buy on Ebay, I'm sorry."

"Well, I'm taking Jo's side in this matter." Kris said as he wrapped his arm around my neck playfully.

"That he's hot?" Marie and I chorused.

"You people have wrong minds."

"Taught me the best, bro!" Marie lightly punched him in his remotely visible six-pack.

"And I'll thank you for that later." I added with a grin.

Enter preppy football player, Marie's ultimate crush, next to Chad Michael Murray, Alex Walker. He was the quarterback and was surrounded by a group of ditzy cheerleaders whose idea of necessities is hairspray and nail polish. And with lighters they could be really dangerous. Beware, cheerleaders on the rampage!

And no, not all of them were blondes for those of you who happen to believe in the petty stereotypes that float around.

"Hey, Alex." Marie smiled rather stupidly, as her eyes began to fill with little stars and her heart began to pound out of her chest, not literally.

"Hi," A moment's silence. "What's your name again?"

"Can't remember?" I asked.

"And you are?" He asked as he looked over at me. His short blonde hair was getting on my bad side.

I laughed. "Well, Sir I'm-too-important-for-you, a chili bowl cut is definitely not for you." I retorted. I could feel my confidence grow. I was that way; my confidence grew when I needed it to.

"Ouch." He smirked at me. Was he trying to be cute? Well, he was failing miserably. His blue eyes were tinted through his yellow-lens glasses.

"That was cheesy." I raised my eyebrow. "Marie, let's go. We can go to a dumpster and be with better company." I smiled at them as I walked away.

"Who was that?" One of the cheerleaders asked as Kris and Marie followed.

"That was rude!" Marie complained as she caught up to me. She was always sulking after she had a missed hit at flirting with the king of low IQ's.

"That was nice." Kris smiled sarcastically.

"That was dull." I ended as we neared my little house at the bottom of the hill. We went our separate ways and I entered life at the Carlisle house.

"Welcome home, late." Stephanie said as she walked through the kitchen to the living room where she was doing her homework on the couch.

"What crawled up your butt and died?" I asked as I threw my black bag in one of the old wooden kitchen chairs.

"Ew!" She grimaced. "What is with you?"

"Nothing." I mimicked her look as I walked up the stairs and went to my room. The shades were down and closed so my room was dark and gray as words on my computer flashed, 'YOU'VE GOT MAIL'. Joy.

I walked over to the computer and sat down in the black computer chair that could neither go up or down anymore. I typed in my password and saw that I had three new messages. First message:

From: Snowqueenalacarte (Marie)

Hey girlie girl! What is up? NMH, I'm just chillin at the crib, stop by when u get a chance to get away from the dreaded Craigory!
Urs, Marie &co.

How sweet. Okay, so I'm going over to her house after I finish this.

Second message:

From: Friartuck (Kris)

Fair warning, my sister is going to ask you to sleep over so she can get you to write an e-mail to get that geek to like her. And this time it's not Chad Michael Murray.

Well, good news sure does travel fast. So, I'm going to spend the night at Marie's, too. After I finished deleting everything, I picked up my bag and started for Marie's house.

I walked up the concrete path to the large oak door. The door opened slowly, revealing a short, young little girl about four years old.

"Casey, is Marie home?" I asked as I bent over to pat her head. No, she's not a dog.

"Yuh-huh." She smiled as she nodded and ran into the house yelling, "Jo- Jo's here!" Yep, that's me, Jo-Jo.

"Hey, Joey." Mrs. Jensen smiled as I walked into their kitchen and took a seat on one of their revolving stools. Marie came down a few seconds later, wearing the same pants as earlier, except now she was wearing a white shirt. Wow, fashion.

"Hi, Jo." She waved at me as she climbed down the last step and took a spot next to me.

"Hey, what's up?" Before I could answer, she added, "Listen, there's this really cool party going down at the Walkers." Marie shot me a hopeful glance. "Will you come with me? If you don't I can't go. Please... I'll pay you back in full, I promise."

"Sure, what do I need?" I sighed, agreeing.

"Something cool, maybe intriguing, a little intimidating." She said making faces.

"You want me to be me?" I asked choking back a laugh.

"Exactly." She smiled defiantly.

"Who am I to dance with?" I asked with a smile on my face.

"Kris is going." Marie offered. Puke.

"Uh... No." I never really saw Kris and me dancing. "I can't see that happening." I vocalize most of my thoughts. Hint, most.

"Oh, come on. You two did it all the time as children." Mrs. Jensen replied.

"And I'm still trying to forget it." I sighed and rolled my eyes. I can't believe they were suggesting this!

"Forget what?" at that, Kris walked into the room. Isn't odd how he wasn't here to hear all of the conversation. Or was he sitting outside the room like a crazed psychopath, so many choices.

"Dancing, dances, the whole enchilada."

"No dancing or dances? Boy, you sure have a strict life." He smiled because he knew I was kidding. "Seriously though, what are you trying to forget?"

"Remember third grade, Kris?" Marie asked as she wrapped her arm through his.

"No." I paused. "Where is this going?"

"You and Jo used to dance together and she needs a date for the dance." I could see it in his eyes. More puke.

"Are you serious?" He asked as he sat down at the table across the room. For some reason I felt offended. I'm not that bad of a date am I? I shook my head and added to his question a reply.

"You think she'd be kidding about that?" I asked. I hated to admit it, but I was right. She wouldn't be kidding about that. If she wanted anything, it was for her friends to be entirely immune to her brother's charm. And remarkably, I was totally repulsed by him most of the time. He just happened to be a savior from his nut-case sister. "Anyways," Time to change the subject. "Has your secret Adonis noticed you yet?"

"Adonis?" Marie was clueless, yes, stupid, the answer is no.

"Hmmm, let me think, Alex Walker rings a very dull cowbell." I smiled, as Marie turned pink and tried to hold back a smile, yet, failed miserably.

"That's different." Marie, whose cheeks were still red, suggested as she walked over to the fridge and took out a cold drink. "You see he's someone that I would never amount to and I just happen to have the hugest crush on, except for Chad Michael Murray.

"You on the other hand, have always been a preferred type. Although, I am lovely and smart and nice and all that other crud, the boys have always preferred you due to the fact that I am too intimidating."

"Are you feeling alright?" I asked as I downed the coke and we went outside.

"Okay, you're too intimidating. But then why do they always go after you?" She whined.

"Stop it! You're making my ears hurt!" I covered my ears. I could tell Kris was having the time of his life as he saw me deteriorating in pain. He smiled a little.

"What are you smiling at?" Marie put her hands on her hips and shot him a look.

"Oh, nothing sis." He replied as he laughed.

"No, what were you smiling at?"

"Just the fact that the people who go to Alex Walkers dance have to be invited by the king himself." At that Kris laughed heartedly and smiled at his little sister. "And did you?"

Marie smiled back and stuck her tongue out. "In fact I did." I raised my eyebrows.

"You did?" I asked.

"I did indeed."

"Did you find it in a trashcan?"

"No, I didn't FIND it anywhere! It was given to me in person by 'the king' himself."

"No wonder you're so giddy."

"I'm not giddy!"

"Are to."

"Are not."

"Are to."

"Are not."

"Are to."

"Are not."

Kris to the rescue, "Are to." Silence.