Disclaimer: Any musical references (Fall Out Boy's I Slept With Someone In Fall Out Boy And All I Got Was This Stupid Song Written About Me, Relient K's or the Ataris's Bite My Tongue, or John Mayer's My Stupid Mouth) are not owned by me, sadly. I don't own Coors Light either, but it would be funny if I did because I don't even like alcohol, nor do I own Paper Mario. Tell me if there's anything else I missed.

Edited on: May 30, 08

The Unattainables

Chapter 1: The Nickname Game

I open the door and drop my knapsack on the floor of my room.

The bedroom is fit for a prim princess, along with the canopy bed and wardrobe in it. It just proves that I might as well be living in someone else's home.

Why am I so contradictory to the things I own? I'll tell you why.

Official definitions of the word princess usually refer to a female member of a monarch, mainly a daughter. Well, in spite of being someone's daughter, I am in no way legally royal, though that would have its perks. Now, what else can I think of? Well… what do you imagine the picture perfect King's daughter doing all day? Well, meeting with charities to tell Daddy what place is more deserving to shell out a few million, and being a cheery socialite, of course! I, on the other hand, am nothing close to perfect, especially when it comes to picture-taking time. Along with that, I know only three people within a ten-hour proximity of here, at least, and I'm a bitch. There's nothing cheery about me except the smiles apart of my facade.

Should I continue? No? Well, I'm going to anyways so you can shut up and read it until I'm satisfied with my rant.

Commonly, as you know, princess means a daughter that's 'daddy's little girl,' spoiled, and gets everything she wants. Though my father wants me to be his 'Little Girl', I'm not. I hardly know him, and if I was taught anything when I was little, it was that you don't accept anything from strangers. Therefore, I'm not going to be spoiled because the only one willing to waste money on me is he, my father: the stranger.

I guess the only way that constitutes me being the princess that belongs in this bedroom is because I have everything I want. I don't necessarily get it whenever I want, but I like to follow the saying, 'Want what you have.' I don't really need much anyways, which is good, because if I had had a lot to bring with me to father's then it wouldn't have all fit.

From what I've seen of this room, it's got lots of space… and that space is well used. I've barely been in here forty-eight hours but that doesn't really matter. It must have been packed full of stiff formal business clothes, all sorts of practical objects for easier organization, and so many pillows it makes me wonder if the designer has a fetish for them. I'm just thankful the walls weren't left blandly white. Actually, they're more beach-themed. Most of the room is done in soft yellows and ocean blues. It fits, seeing as I am now living in over-rated and over-populated California. If it wasn't for friends -wait, no, I mean the only friend I have here-, there would be nothing pleasant about spending my summer in the state Anthony Kiedis and his band mates named their seventh album after, sort of.

Plus, Cali' is just another place for me to get showed up, and when is that ever fun? In what sense am I talking about? Well, basically, it's just another place for me to be second best to all those extra gorgeous girls you can find everywhere you look, magazines especially. I would know; there are bunches of them back home in Rhode Island and now I'm sure I will meet a new group. It's to be expected when you hang out with someone as obviously good-looking as Caine. Speaking of Caine, remind him to compliment me and reassure me of my teetering good looks. He's always good at that.

Remember before when I mentioned only knowing three people here? Well Caine Coltsteene is one of them, along with my father and her. We'll get to my father and her later though because I'm sure you'll have to endure her enough as it is, so why torture you now?

Anyway, Caine is my only true close friend here. I met him two summers ago when I came down to visit my dad and we stayed in touch. I told you he's good-looking, right? Well, I was lying. Don't get sad, I was lying in that good way, but don't tell her I said that.

She'd lecture me about how there is nothing good about lying out of my ass, even though I'm sure she's told some herself. Which makes her a hypocrite and gives you another reason to dislike her other than because I said so. My word is not to be trusted usually, I mean, come on, I just lied to you about how attractive Caine is.

Now that I'm back to the point, he's hot beyond words. I'll try to describe him for you just because I lied to you earlier. See? I have a heart. Anyway, feel special. Seriously.

I don't like talking about totally attractive males if they're unattainable, which in my case, he is.

The only problem between Caine and I is that we could be best friends but just that. Not only would the boy be oblivious to my feelings, if I had any, but there could never be any. We just know each other too well.

I can't seem to stay on topic, can I? I was about to describe him and then off I go, small attention span achieved. Ok, so, enough critiquing myself.

The Adonis has dark brown hair that he keeps trimmed for his mother, and towers above me for fun and attempts at intimidation. He has warm amber eyes with bright flecks of gold placed sporadically and frames them with cute black glasses for his vision. Last time I saw him he had a peach fuzz mustache that he loved as much as I loved to make fun of it. He has a square jaw that would have made him the perfect badass movie star actor. He was also born with fingers he dislikes and calls stubby and short but makes you think he's capable of being sensitive and caring. To cover his wonderfully delightful chest -Trust me, I've seen it, and let me tell you, it is whistle-worthy- is his trademark vintage clothing. If there is anything that makes that boy unique by looks, it's the thrift store outfits he wears daily over his tanned skin. I'm not going to bother with his personality because you'll learn enough about it during my summer stay.

For the next two hours, I shelled myself up in the beachy bedroom with a book, loud music and occasionally attempted to stop procrastinating and unpack my only outfits and belongings. I probably would have carried on this way but she 'reminded' (aka: yelled at) me to (get my ass in gear and) put on something practical for Caine's party.

Caine's birthday is the only reason I made my mother rush to get me here almost as soon as I finished my last horrible exam... mostly. So I made sure to rush out of the house and be on time without being seen, in beige Capri cargo pants, a simple white tank top and brown thong sandals.

Making sure no one was peaking through the curtains of my temporary home, I quickly snuck into Caine's backyard. I'm not really expecting to have a grand entrance, I mean, come on; I am sneaking my way in. Plus, these people will probably be so caught up with their own lives to notice me anyway. The only one I really care about noticing me is Caine, wherever he is.

I just happened to forget that the gate swung back into place loudly, unless you closed it yourself, when it did just that. This puts me in a rather scary position I wasn't expecting. People are staring at me, people I don't know, obviously, and lots of them. Not knowing what to do, I take a step back into the gate instinctively. Seeing as I'm pressed up against it, I can hear footsteps approaching on the other. Intelligently, I hold open the gate so someone else doesn't do it and squish me till my eyeballs distend from their sockets and I bleed internally to my death.

The next few moments go by rather quickly and confuse even me. I guess I can admit that it's indeed a moment that will change my life but I don't really like how that sounds. I'm sure it would have happened sometime this summer anyway, but whatever. All I'm saying is that it isn't as cliché as it seems, you know, when you meet some people that will change your life for 'forever.'

There stands a girl with that natural almost white-blond hair that is a colour I find so unattractive but it works for her because the rest of her isn't as pale as a ghost and like I said, her hair is almost white-blond. She laughs from beside me and says, "I thought you were about to get trampled."

Oh yeah, because that sounds like fun, I want to say so badly but I keep my mouth shut instead and bite back the condescending tone waiting in my throat.

I know you've heard songs about biting your tongue and shutting the hell up. I mean, what person in their mind hasn't heard Bite My Tongue by the Ataris or Relient K? Or even my guilty pleasure John Mayer and his track My Stupid Mouth. I love these songs because I relate so well. Lately I'm proud to be bitter and sharp-tongued but there's something about this girl that makes me 'bite my tongue.' Oh God, I actually thought that. Ok, enough of this.

Somehow, this girl is going to be different. She's so not intimidating to me that it's laughable but yet she's unknowingly managed to stop me from making a rude remark aloud. This is a rarity.

I watch her greet the four guys as they walk through the gate I'm politely holding for them. None of the four thank me, none of the four even look at me. Honestly, how rude! What, do they think that the Coltsteenes are so rich that they have a gate that will open automatically for you? It's not like the Coltsteenes think so highly of themselves and their guests that they hire a butler to hold the gate open for their son's friends. Obviously these boys thought that highly of-

Wait. One just nodded at me. Psh, that is not the way you thank someone. It's not like I'm going to bow down to him just because he acknowledged my presence! I'll take it anyway, just because he's Caine's guest. It certainly isn't a mi casa es su casa type deal though.

He turned his head back to the other four talking away by the end of my rant. Meh, he's probably a jerk anyways.

I turn my head to look at this 'different' girl. Talking with a guy in the center of the group, she steals his sunglasses off his face and transfers them to hers. How cute –insert gag-. It's then that I realize the stares of all of the random people are now fixated on this sunglasses-wearing guy, including the friends he came in with. Well, better him than I, definitely. His guy friends are looking up to him and hanging off his every word in what has to be the most feminine act I've ever seen. They were like his little -one of them literally is midget size- followers, only in board shorts instead of mini-skirts.

Different Girl -yes, I've named her that now. It's not like I actually know her name- turns to me and puts an arm around my shoulders, drawing attention to me now too. I'm sure my whole body has just stiffened but she just continues to look at me and smile. Hell, this girl is a strain to my health. Ha, did you think I was going to put brain there? Psh, like I'd rhyme. How cheesy.

"Hi, I'm Ashlin," Oops, Different Girl's talking. She just told me her name, so what? I can still think of her as whatever I want. "and you're?"

"Crys." This has somehow earned me another smile. How generous of her.

"Cool. This is T-Stone." She pointed to the oh-so small one and I laughed inside. How ironic, the short guy has a nickname attempting intimidation when he is so hopeless at making a baby cry. Hmmm… this may be fun. What other tongue in cheek names have they been given? "Eric," This was the boy that had acknowledged me so kindly. "Jaden, and… sorry, what's your name?"

If I were about to bother talking in front of these rude arrogant males and had it in me to be as offensive as the four guys -which I so do-, I'd tell Different Girl her destiny; that he is Sunglasses Boy and she's Different Girl and they're destined to have two children: Diverse Daughter and Sunglasses Boy II.

"Roderick." He actually managed to beat one of his adorers' -Jason, I believe- to proudly announcing his name. At this, Different Girl nods, seemingly pleased with this information.

She and I watch the guys walk away. That's when I notice her arm still around my shoulders. Following it up to her face, I give a questioning look to which she replies, "Good female company is hard to find."

Why did she say that? For my benefit, as a warning that the girls here are just as vicious as I already believe? Or for her benefit, telling me that she needs my companionship because the girls here are just as vicious as I've already believed? No matter what, I'm missing some of the options, like maybe she wants to be my friend for my benefit? Anyways, no matter what it proves they call girls like them vicious and carved out of stone, but for what they've become they just feel more alone . . . Fall Out Boy moment. It's too late to ask her what the hell she was talking about anyways; Different Girl is now talking to 'T-Stone'.

"Crys, hey!" Arms are wrapped around my waist and squeezing my fragile body into a 2D size only otherwise seen by Mario lovers everywhere… except I'm not made of paper.

"Caine!" I haven't been this happy in months. I know it. Caine makes everything worth it.

"Great to see you. I didn't know if you'd make it. Your father kept insisting that you'd want to spend time at home for the summer but… obviously he doesn't know."

Sure, I know what Caine is talking about but I'm not about to recognize… what my father is too uncaring to know about. "Way to insert an awkward pause, Caine."

"Yeah," He made a weak try at grinning. It was sad to see. "I guess your step-mother got her way then." He paused when I shuddered, "She kept yelling at your dad to get you a first-class ticket here and fast."

Sure she did. She just wants to dress me up and change me so badly that of course she'd have died in her perfectly pressed Channel suit if I hadn't made it here by the second week of summer.

"Actually, I was the one that got their way. The second wife is never going to turn me into herself. Plus, I nagged my mom until she was happy to get rid of the wonderfully brilliant me. Can you believe it?"

Caine laughs, "Nah, of course not."

"So anyway… where's your family?"

I like Caine's family. They're all generally nice, though there's something about his mother that reminds me of daddy's wifey. If Caine isn't able to hang out with me, it's always because of some excuse his mother has come up with. Anyway, he also has two sisters, both older then him. His oldest sister, Sahi, is in her second year of university and has always been the most welcoming and outgoing Coltsteene. She has an attention-grabbing aura even bigger than the one created by her brother. She often tries her set for her stand-up comedy act on me when I visit, and, best of all, Sahi has a perfected 'Men-Are-Incompetent-Fools-Because…Etc.' Theory. To say the least, she's my favourite, aside from Caine of course. His other sister, Rhey, is only a year older then us but refuses to associate with Caine in public. Other than that, she's pretty cool when she doesn't have her nose stuck up in the air, turned away from our direction. Lastly, I often offer to trade Caine fathers. Of course, he just laughs it off, but if I could I would. Caine's dad and I get along well; we just talk about soccer the whole time, seeing as we're both avid fans. The only times there's tension between us is when it's World Cup time. We'd argue about teams, coaches and players.

No matter what Coltsteene is in question, they are all enviously attractive. They all share dark brown hair, exotic tan skin (though it's obviously common in the Golden State) and amber brown eyes.

"Well, Sahi's in South America with some part-time peacekeepers she met at school, Rhey is in her room on her cell probably, and my parents are out together."

"That sucks." I said unhappily.

Caine does his usual shrug and suggests to go swimming.

I immediately brighten like the sun. I love to swim and am thankful for Caine's family having a gorgeous pool with a glistening waterfall and connected hot tub. "I'm putting my stuff in your room."

"Ok. Take this though." Then he strips off his shirt, unfortunately keeping his trunks on, and hands me his shirt. All is well though; I get to look at his nicely defined chest and soon it will be dripping with wetness. Oh yes girls, the fantasy come true is just beginning.

Grinning, I roll my eyes at him and make sure to make a show of holding the 'smelly' shirt away from me.

Stripping off my capris and tank top in Caine's room, I start thinking about stuff, just random stuff like elegant blouses, my hot best friend, my pet fish back home…You get the drift.

The sound of girls coming in from Caine's windows knocks me out of it though.

"Your bikini is so cute."

My eyes are immediately drawn to the reflection of myself standing in my black bikini in Caine's mirror. Does my bikini look good on me? Do I look too pale compared to the others? I might be from Rhode Island but winter has left me pale and school has left me no time to revive my tan.

"You're the thin one."

"But you're the one with the best-looking guy after you!"

They're talking about Caine? He's the first guy that comes to mind when it comes to hot male looks. I'm sometimes tempted to picture him as a male model.

Somehow them talking about my close friend feels weird. Just now, eavesdropping in on these two girls feels weird too. I could never be a stalker.

"I would drool at Roderick's abs if he would wipe my mouth with his own, every girl would!"

Sunglasses Boy? They're talking about him? Frowning at her later statement occurs. Sure, the guy is hot, but I myself am not about to let out a puddle of slobber comparable to a dog's, watch him slurp it up and then let him touch his lips to mine. Any girl that would is desperate and deranged, by my standards.

Leaving Caine's room, I end up swimming exclusively with him until some others jump in. Caine does his best to involve me with them; he even starts a game of pool football. It just shows he is really trying because I don't do well with any other sport other than soccer and I'm certainly not going to humiliate and dumb myself down by playing pool football with a bunch of appalling hormonal males… and Caine.

I end up getting out ten minutes later when I'm splashed in the face because one moronic donkey, to say it with restraint, passes the ball to me. I'm not one to complain over a little water, nor am I one to hold grudges… for that long, but when the ball splashes me, it continues to bounce to connect with my forehead. Things get worse when everyone in the pool and a few others surrounding it -girls that giggle excessively- laugh at me, except for Caine. He had been talking to someone I didn't know -it could have been practically anyone, obviously- and didn't notice me marching back into his room.

This is stupid. I'm not going to sit around here and mope.

As I open the door, Caine comes in, puts on a sweatshirt and tells me to grab a hoodie.

He explains that, "we're having a campfire on the beach. It's going to get cold soon. You can drown your sorrows in a cold one, if you want."

Sitting in a lawn chair, in Caine's hoodie -because I'm not about to risk getting something from my house- with a cold bottle of Coors Light is actually kind of relaxing I have to admit. Even if morons that flail about in the sand because they obviously can't hold their liquor surround me, the fire is warming the bitter bitch in me so that I am content to sit near them at the moment and indulge in my only half tart thoughts. The sun will set soon and the waves role and crash; it's almost perfect. But nothing ever really is.

Someone else isn't looking at the waves or into the sun. They're looking at me, jealous that the hoodie helping to keep me warm is Caine's. Then someone shouts in his direction and the unrealized hold I had on his attention is lost.

Author's Note: You met Crys, the main character. She's certainly... something. A bitchy something, but with good reason.

You also met Caine, Ashlin "Different Girl", Roderick "Sunglasses Boy," and the midget so-far only known as "T-Stone." What's your opinion on them so far, and Crys?

Thanks for reading, if you got this far and bothered with the A/N.

Review, please! xx beingmyself