Um…..Yeah….I got this idea wile watching America’s Next Top Model, so, yeah……Please flame! (Fire!)

---

The last day of high school, graduation, brought many different feelings for many different people. Most of them, sad to see their time in high school over, for now they would have to battle the real world on their own. Some of them with ambitious goals for the future.

Some of them, like Deanne Stoker were just happy that the living hell of school and popularity was over. Graduating with no friends, never a boyfriend, and nothing but humiliation to look back on wasn’t exactly the best way to graduate, but it was better then being given more time to try and achieve those impossible goals.

Deanne was extremely tall for her age, which was how it always had been. She had brown hair which was constantly frizzy and knotty, no matter how much she brushed it, glasses, braces, and a full face of pimples. Not to mention a horrible fashion sense, for her clothes looked of that of a three year olds.

So what was she doing at the Branbert high graduation party? She could be home celebrating such an event with her family. But there was something she had to do before her time went out, for the next day she was taking off and moving to France (she had been an honors French student and always wanted to visit). Deanne wanted to confess her feelings to Brad. If he didn’t feel the same way, fine, she was leaving and never would see him again, but if so…

She slowly approached the man of her dreams and manage to stammer out a faint “Will you dance with me?” the boy laughed but to the girls surprise, gave a sweet smile and added, “sure, but let me get my jacket first, I left it on a chair and I’m getting chilly.” Deanne smiled and waited in that spot.

She watched people walk by, people enjoy themselves, songs pass, but still, the boy had not returned. It didn’t matter; Deanne was determined to stand there until she got her promised dance.

“Okay, this last song is a slow one, so get a partner, and hurry doing so” came the DJ’s voice over the speaker. Deanne played with the flowers on her white dress, still no Brad. The song was half over when she heard the boy’s familiar voice “Hey Deanne!” it said, but it was, above her? She looked up to see three boys on the roof, one of them Brad. (Deanne’s school was a one story).

Before Deanne could make any vain attempt to stop it, a bucket of what seemed to be egg yolks and red paint dumped all over her dress. The three boys laughed, they had ruined her night, and even her expensive dress.

Not having a lot of money in the family, this made Deanne cry. Her mother had spent saved up money to buy the gown, and now it was eternally stained. Deanne looked into Brads dark blue eyes, shook her head, and ran home. Crying till she fell asleep that night.

---

Deanne awoke from the horrid nightmare and again questioned why she was going to her ten year reunion. Things sucked as a teenager, so why would she return to see the people she hated and get mocked once more?

Still, things were different. Going to France, Deanne had been discovered, though her look bland and “unworthy”, she had been discovered for her poster, long legs, and potential to do anything. Deanne had been turned into a model, one of France’s top models, so why fear? The award that was to be given away for the person who had the most impressive life would surely go to her. Then Brad would want her.

The way Deanne looked, who didn’t want her. Her once frizzy hair had been treated with the best shampoos, so it was now sleek and straight as a pin. Her glasses long gone, replaced with contacts, and her teeth were the most impressive around. Her once freakishly long legs though, is what made her most stunning. Coming in second, her magnificent body shape, which was once hidden under baggy clothes. So why was she now so worried nobody would like her?

“You will be fine mademoiselle.” Assured Aurelie, Deanne’s first friend made in France. She had been the one who really discovered Deanne, but her agent was the one who worked with her as well, so really Deanne had both to thank. Aurelie pushed a strand of orange-red hair out of her eyes. She was a natural red head, with dark green eyes, and she seemed to be reading Deanne’s thought at the moment, even though it was quiet clear the women was worried.

“I hope. Were do you suppose Sebastien is?” Deanne asked. Sebastien was another friend she had met in France. His English wasn’t good, for he had grown up in France unlike the other two girls, and he was goofing off most the time, but Deanne found him to be a loyal friend. Both her and her friends were going to America for the reunion, to support Deanne.

“Were else would Sebastien be in a private jet? In the back, sleeping of course!” Both girls laughed at the silly question Deanne had asked. “Oh my, had it really been ten years since graduation? Time just flew, didn’t it?” Deanne starred out the window. Had some stupid high school prank really paranoid her to the point she still thought about it ten years later? Was that pathetic?

“You bet! I can’t believe all this time, I lived one state over from you, same age, and yet we are destining to meet in France, the country of both our dreams!” Deanne nodded. She had spent a whole year in France with out making a single true friend before being “discovered.” Of course, Aurelie was discovered much earlier.

“Yes. Truly a miracle. And to think, becoming models, top ones at that, from the same agent. Life has been sweet to the both of us, so why am I ruining it by going to America and getting depressed?” Deanne again asked. She still felt she should have stayed home.

“Because. You wont be depressed, you’ll come back to France having had finished off what needed to be done a wile ago. Deanne, your popularity, and pride even, are at that reunion. Do you know how many posters of you sell? How many magazines with your face on the cover? French people speak differently, and even do things differently, but their concept of a beautiful girl is the same as anywhere else. Who would depress a model?” questioned Aurelie.

“But still, why am I going for two full weeks? What was I thinking! I can’t call of work that long! To do absolutely nothing in America!” panicked Deanne, like she had the whole plane ride, with the time she spent sleeping as an exception.

“Relax. It’s not like it’s a problem. Would Jerome fire you for taking two weeks off? He needs you for crying out loud! He fires you and his whole career goes, bye bye” Aurelie waved to signify this. “And about doing nothing in America, that’s what Sebastien and I are here for. We’ll have fun, I promise.

The plane softly landed on the ground. They were in America. There was no turning back. As Deanne checked into the hotel she and her friends would be staying at, she silently said to herself, “class of 1996, here I come.”