Much to her annoyance, Anja’s alarm clock went off at six thirty in the morning. By all rights, she should be sleeping in: her first full day in a stressful new environment, and her father insisted she head off to school. Sighing, she sat up, hit the ALARM button, and stood up, looking around the room that daddy dearest kept insisting would be home soon.

She walked over to the boxes in one corner that stood where her dresser would in a few weeks, and snatched up a pair of jeans. Despite the heat, she knew that a good first impression is key to getting to the top of whatever social pyramid she needed to climb this week, and fashion was that impression. Grabbing a short tee to go with it, she trudged to the shower, wishing for the life of her that she was back in Wyoming with her friends and not the new girl in a hot California city with a stupid name.

She could already tell it was going to be a long day.

(-doom-)

Envy sat up with a start as her bother banged on her bedroom door.

“If you don’t get your lazy butt up now, I’m going to go in there and kick it! I’m tired of being late because of you.”

Shit, shit, shit, she thought miserably, wishing this wasn’t the way she had to start every day. Sitting up, she looked across her room at the digital clock beside her mirror: the red glare it emitted screamed that she had twenty minutes to get to school or get another tardy and yet another Saturday school.

Three minutes later she was out of her room dressed and ready, brushing her hair as her brother glared at her from his computer chair. She glared right back. “I don’t know what your problem is, Jared. Not all of us can wake up at four in the morning to play WoW.”

He rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Just hurry up.”

In record time, breakfast was over and Envy was running out the door, dragging her brother and mother with her, giving one singular command: “Drive!”

In the four minutes that it took the three of them to drive to El Jardin and the two minutes it took Envy to make her way to the stairs in the middle of campus, she realized that she didn’t have her cell phone or her wallet. Once she got to the spot where her friends congregated, already irritated, it didn’t help that Ant looked up from the book she had been reading and asked, “where’s your violin?”

Envy screeched incredulously. “Are you serious? I forgot that, too?”

Ant seemed to ponder the thought then answered, “No, you’re right, it’s probably in your Orch locker.” Figuring that that problem had been settled, Ant went back to her book as Envy stood, staring at her in complete disbelief of the audacity.

Growling, Envy unceremoniously grabbed Ant’s left wrist and looked at the time on it. Eight eighteen, it read, always ten minutes ahead. Envy sighed. The bell would ring in one minute and she was already thoroughly unprepared for the day that lay ahead.

(-doom-)

Anja stared miserably at her schedule. Six periods of hell on Earth stared back at her, mockingly. First period art she hoped she could deal with. Art had always come naturally to her back home, but in a place where she knew no one, she was unsure she could deal. As the bell clanged out a warning that everyone had better shift themselves, she glanced up to where the noise seemed loudest: an intercom slightly larger than the rest at the top of the gym, right above the “El Jardin High School” name, sweaty mascot, and “Home of the Fieldworkers” motto.

She rolled her eyes. Could a school honestly be that lame?

Anja’s eyes began to head back down to the schedule in her hand when she was pushed from behind by a gigantic force and hit the ground with a thud.

“Oh my God! Gen, I told you to watch where you were going!” the first voice that registered was a high-pitched annoyance to the pounding in her head. The second and third, however, lacked such harshness.

“Oh, shit, I’m so sorry.”

“Hell yeah, you are, you huge lug!”

Anja found herself being offered two hands. She grabbed both and the two of them helped her up. She brushed herself off and began to on the ground for the schedule she had dropped when the third voice, a low yet feminine one, began to read off her information.

“ ‘Anja Simmons. Grade Eleven.’ I assume that would be you?” The girl handed the piece of blue paper back to her. “Nice to meet you. You must be new around here.” She smiled politely as the wind that was picking up started to whip her light brown hair around her face.

A shorter blonde female, obviously the first speaker, popped up beside her. “Yeah! Nice to meet you! We don’t get many new kids around here anymore.” A frown crossed the blonde’s face as a tall, buff Native American male laughed. He once more extended his hand to Anja in a friendly handshake.

“Hey, yeah. Envy’s right. It’s a real pleasure.” He smiled and Anja immediately decided she would like him. She began to open her mouth, but he continued in his soft-spoken voice. “I’m Gen, and this is Ant.”

Ant, as the boy had introduced her, looked at the watch on her left wrist nonchalantly before looking at Gen, and then back at Anja. “I couldn’t help but notice that you have art first period. Gen’s got it, too. As for me and Envy, we have to head off to orchestra. I’m pretty sure Gen can show you the ropes for now, though.”

She, too, offered up a second handshake, and Anja took it as she looked over the trio. Sure, they hadn’t been the welcoming committee she had expected, and she could tell by their black band t-shirts and jeans that they really weren’t her type of people, but they seemed good enough for now.

Envy once more grabbed Ant’s wrist and shrieked. “Crap! We gotta go! Bell’s gonna ring!” She began to run in the direction of the band room, dragging Ant along with her and leaving Anja and Gen standing in the dust.

Gen laughed and looked down at Anja. She pushed some blonde curls behind her ear and smiled back. As they turned and walked down the corridor to the art room, Anja was overcome with curiosity. “ 'Gen,' huh? That’s a strange name. What’s it short for?”

Gen glanced at her in surprise. “You’re telling me you don’t know?”

She raised and eyebrow at him. “No, why should I?”

He kept his eyes straight ahead of him and his muscular bulk stiffened slightly in a grimace.

“My name is… Generosity.”