Summary (because it amuses me when authors put these at the beginning of their stories… as if the person didn’t just read the summary before clicking into it… XD ): The best way to get over your addiction to slash fics? Start living one. Do I even have to say it? ……… slash.

Category: Romance/Humor

A/N: Okay, so I don’t own the italicized bit at the beginning, it belongs to the amazingly talented writer, Relentless Bibliophile. (The title is Experiment 10: Runaway Cart… this is from the second chapter) I just hope I can do her justice by writing this story…. I want to write about why I’m writing this, but really… it would give away too much. Basically, I noticed that there was a lack of f/f stories, so I decided to start some. shrugs Also, this is my first attempt at a semi-serious story… No one has me on my favorites list, excepts my friends, so on the off chance that any of you have read my other story, Dwarf, it’s going to be slash, but it’s really quite silly. It’s off of something from my german class. But yeah, this is my first attempt at a story that is actually meant to make total sense, so please don’t hate me. And on –ahem- scenes… If I suck, I’d like to blame… god. For being a psychotic bastard.

Christians—please excuse me.

… Note my amazing political correctness. Go me.

I also do not own: Abercrombie, American Eagle, Johnny Depp (as much as I’d like to think I do… drools), America’s Next Top Model,

Warnings: f/f, m/m, language, pathetic fangirlism, lewd comments, happiness, and maybe even a few hetero couples, if I’m in a particularly nasty mood.

Nooow on with the show…

-nunununununun-

I couldn’t help it; what was I supposed to do with him being so darn sexy about it? Before I could form any coherent thoughts, I found myself kissing him hungrily, with one hand behind his neck and the other clutching my cup until the plastic dented beneath my fingers. Micah hesitated for a moment, then his free hand found my waist and he responded with the same eagerness he’d shown in the music room.

It was still hard to believe that I was doing this — that after six months of the two of us mucking around and avoiding the subject as much as was humanly possible, I could just up and kiss Mic if I wanted to. It didn’t seem real.

Renee felt herself practically drooling. These characters were just so cute! It was so easy to fall in love with the guys in these stories, with their perfect smiles and witty comments. She adored them, in every way possible. She glanced at the clock, to see how much time was left before school, before she had to leave the sanctuary of slash-zone on The digital letters flashed at her brightly, although they seemed dim compared to her computer screen. Her eyes opened a little wider and she gaped, her jaw hanging like “Johnny Depp had just walked into the room and gave her a lap dance while confessing his innermost thoughts and secrets,” as her friend Krissy would put it. Krissy was mildly crazy, or at least, that was what the gossips at school said. But seriously… randomly shouting out words from your thought process does not make you crazy. Really.

Anyway, the point was, Renee was late for school. By about… two hours. And sitting and thinking about it wasn’t going to help her get there, or keep her mom from getting even more pissed off at her for “skipping school for those damn porn stories.” In reality, her mom didn’t care. But she had to act like she did, didn’t she? Renee snorted, standing up and grabbing her backpack, keys, and a bagel off the kitchen counter on her way out. Once she was sure the front door was locked, she headed for her rusty old n avy blue Chevy Cavalier. The thing wasn’t very pretty and after all these years it honestly didn’t smell very good, but it was all she had, and she was glad for it. She lived in a decent neighborhood, so she could have ridden the bus, but she hated how early you had to get up to make them. Seven-thirty… a positively unholy hour… She thought dimly, pulling out of the drive way and heading towards the faded brick building two miles down the road.

Fairview Unity High School was fairly plain building that smelled faintly of dirt, teens, and preppy perfume. The hall monitor posted at the door glared at her as she was walking by, but was too busy talking to some guy to really pay attention. Questioning him, it seemed. He must be new, because no one here dresses in tight black pants and fitted t-shirts. Renee thought, scowling a little. She hated new kids, especially ones as attractive as this one. Within a week, he would be hanging out with preppy bimbos, going to all of the “coolest” parties, and dressing as though he’d never worn anything except striped polos and pre-ripped jeans, all from Abercrombie or American Eagle. Yes, he may seem cool now, but he would soon be a total prick and therefore was not worth acknowledging or associating with now.

“Semmeln! Come here. Now!” The hall monitor had apparently noticed her watching the stranger, along with the fact that she was a bit late for school. Renee walked over, tugging lightly at the short ponytail swishing on the back of her head. She had been hoping to get into the school unnoticed, but apparently luck just wasn’t with her today. The hall monitor, Monika or Melinda or something, sat up a bit straighter in her chair. “I see that you’re late… again. “ Renee nodded, squinting her eyes a little. She managed to hold back a retort. Really, this was the bitchiest hall monitor, and she just had to be on duty every day Renee was late. It was like she planned it. With her… magical psychic hall monitor powers? Pfft.

“Well, anyways,” Monika-or-Melinda-or-something flipped her hair over her shoulder, as though she was America’s next top model, instead of a hall monitor in a fucked-over school in the Midwest. “This is Fagg—I mean Faith. He’s new here. Show him to class, alright, and I might decide not to give you a detention. Deal?” Renee nodded, an impish grin in her eyes as she glanced over at the hazel-eyed beauty. Faith, huh? Well, at least she would have a chance to talk to him while he was still a person. He was currently staring at her, probably wondering why the fuck it was taking her so long to get moving. She blushed a little under his stead gaze, looking quickly down the hallway.

“What’s your class?” She asked bluntly, not trusting her voice. He brushed short brown waves of pure softness out of his eyes, looking down at a crinkled class schedule.

“Anderson. Room 1232.” AP Biology, she thought, raising an eyebrow. Maybe he wouldn’t end up with the preppies after all. None of them would be caught dead in a class as “dorky” as advanced bio. Most of them dropped science as soon as their sophomore year was over. But then, he was new, so he would have ten days to transfer out, and that was within the allotted week of change into prep-world. Shrugging and trying to look casual, she started down the corridor to the right and made a few more turns before arriving.

“Here you go. If you have any trouble finding second hour, there are signs posted around the school, plus hall monitors every-fucking-where.” He nodded, walking cautiously into the room, as if the floor was about to snake up around his ankles. Watching him enter, as subtly as she could, Renee felt a plan forming. Oh yes, she thought, grinning evilly. This one has great potential. Just what I’ve been waiting for….