Chapter two:

The Victims part one

-

-

-

Camille woke up grudgingly at 6 in the morning, She punched her alarm clock until it stopped and went to the bathroom. With a gruff voice, she shook Meriam awake.

The two were such a comical sight in the morning. They were walking like zombies and Camille hurt her toe on the bathroom door. She groaned and told her friend to use another bathroom. As it was, there were enough bathrooms for half an army in the mansion.

As the lukewarm water splashed over her body, Camille thought about her plan again and about the remark Meriam had made at the end. Her teammates... But she couldn't sleep with any of them. She saw them every day and trained with them. She numbered some of them with the few friends that she had. She couldn't mingle sex and friendship. It would be too risky, even if what Meriam had said were true. There was something about a guy in a dripping wet bathing suit. But she had long driven those thoughts out of her mind. She didn't have time for a relationship before, and certainly not now.

She shook herself awake and dried off. It was not the time to daydream. She had a training session in twenty minutes.

She put on her bathing suit, a dark blue bare back one piece with the school's emblem embroidered in gold along its right side, and her pair of jeans and a white wife beater.

She went down to the kitchen and made breakfast for Meriam and herself. She had never seen the need to awaken the maids for a stupid bowl of choco pops. She had just added her the milk when Meriam appeared in a skimpy pink skirt and a tight black RL top, perfect make-up and hair-do. It was still a mystery to Camille, who only put on make-up occasionally, how Meriam could look like she did in fifteen minutes top.

"You want to ride with me? I'll give you a ride back too so you'd have to take you car."

"Why don't I give you a ride? That way, you'll have an excuse to get in a car with a guy, kiss him senseless and feel his package for yourself, if you get my meaning. You don't want to get yourself a small one do you?"

"You're wicked."

"And you love me for it, hon."

"I never understood how you got girls and boys with your attitude. Take your bi eyes off of me."

"Why Camille, I never thought you were like that too."

Camille smiled. And dramatically put her hands on her heart, fluttering her eyes, "Sorry to disappoint you. You knew from the beginning that I didn't swing that way."

Meriam laughed. When people learned about her bisexuality, they tended to shy away. But Camille had always been cool about it, cracking jokes left and right and making her comfortable. The knowledge hadn't changed their friendship and Meriam was happy for it because it had been one of her greatest fears. Maybe she preferred guys, but she wasn't against the one or two girls coming her way.

The two girls finished their breakfast and Meriam went for her car as Camille grabbed their backpacks. Meriam's idea wasn't a bad one, but she didn't have time to see each of her victims one by one. She'd have to get them all together in some kind of way, and observe their qualities.

She hurled Meriam's backpack at her while she grabbed her car keys and went to the garage, opening the beautiful red Ferrari Spider and making its motor groan as she heated the car. Meriam honked her horn, speeding past the opening gates and toward the school grounds.

Camille wasn't a big fan of speeding. Too dangerous and too much trouble. Of course she'd always wanted to try the prowess of the 350 km per hour car every time she turned the ignition, but she'd never had the guts to do it.

-

-

-

"Gabriel Alexander! How are you?"

Camille sat down next to him and punched him on the arm.

"Ow, Cam, stop punching like a guy. It hurts."

"You're such a sissy Gabriel Alexander. If I have to wake up at 6 in the morning, I don't see why anybody around me should be happy about it."

G.A. groaned, lifted the towel from around his neck and put it on her head.

"Don't ever call me Gabriel Alexander again or next time, I'll stuff you mouth with this towel. It's G.A. Get it? G.A."

"Oh, mama's little boy is hurt."

He made a grab for her and stood up, holding her bridal style. He went to the edge of the pool.

"No, No, No, Gabe, GABRIEL! Don't! Gabe put me down! I haven't done my warm-up exercises yet. GAAAAAAB-!"

He threw her into the pool, laughing as she came up sputtering.

"You are going to pay for this Gabriel Alexander Tray."

Before she made a grab at him, the blond boy put on his goggles and canon balled into the pool. He looked around him as he resurfaced, but Camille was nowhere to be seen. He sensed a hand grabbing him and before he could do anything, he felt his bathing suit go.

He just had time to turn around before he saw her laughing her cute ass off on one side of the pool scales, his trunks dangling from her hand. She turned to him, her eyes still twinkling with laughter, before she threw her head back and clutched her stomach, laughing.

She was... breathtaking and a little fluttery sensation coursed through his body.

"Come and get it babe."

Camille suddenly stopped laughing at the smirk on the handsome fair-headed boy's face.

He advanced on her in a perfect crawl. His broad shoulders moving, and his powerful arms bringing him to her in just seconds. She couldn't believe the sight he was giving her. His ass was bare and perfectly in sight as he swam toward her. It was only a fleeting glimpse, but it made her stare unashamedly.

He wasn't going to do what she thought he was. Was he?

He was in front of her now, his hands resting on each side of the scale, the smirk still in place and the black goggles shadowing his eyes.

Fuck! He was going to come out.

"If that's what you want."

His voice was deep and husky, and as he put his feet on the first stage of the scale, she stood up. She couldn't tear her eyes away as his muscular tanned body came into sight. A tribal black tattoo adorned his left muscled arm, circling it just beneath his armpit. Broad shoulders, good pecs, led to an even better six-pack of abs as fine trail of soft looking blond hair took the road to a smaller waist.

"Enjoying the show?"

Camille shrieked, her senses coming back to her. She couldn't have those thoughts about Gabe for God's sake. He was her friend and nothing more.

So maybe he was the incontestable God of the school, preps and goths alike, his gold tongue ring famous to the female population of Chicago's high schools and colleges alike.

Gabe was the new face of Abercrombie and Fitch, his extremely blue eyes were his best feature along with sharp cheekbones, a well defined jaw, a straight nose and a luscious lower lip.

It took some time but now you really want to figure out

Just what it is that all the other girls are talkin' 'bout

The lyrics were playing in her mind and she pushed them back as she turned around and handed him his black trunks. He laughed, the sound of his amusement getting on her nerves. She jumped back in the water gracefully.

"Race me?"

The two words put the playful mood back in their conversation and the two teenagers sprang into the water, both loving the feel of it on their bodies, like a silky caress. They did more laps and worked on their different strokes for the rest of the hour before the coach and their other teammates arrived.

The training was intense and coach added another two hours to it after school. They had a match with their long-life opponents Saint Anne HS in two days, Saturday morning, at 10.

Camille wasn't scared. She was the best there was and no one had bested her in a long time. She didn't see why it would begin now.

"What happened to you this morning lazy asses? The maid didn't give you your dose of caffeine?"

Coach's voice drilled them.

"No coach."

"Then tell why I don't see any winners?"

Camille was fed up with his attitude, he was so anal; she sometimes wondered if he ever smiled.

"Saunders, any problem?"

"No coach."

She wouldn't open her mouth. Couldn't. God forbid her mother come to her school again. One time in her life was enough. She didn't want to hear her famous, "Your brother would never..." speech. She had gotten the full version of it last year when she'd been sent to the principal's office for speaking her mind when her AP Calculus teacher had taken two classes to explain one stupid equation. And it had begun to tick her off.

-

-

-

It was the lunch break, and after grabbing a hotdog and a salad from the cafeteria, Camille went to the school library. She had observed her peers during the four hours since the morning practice and had come up with five prospective lovers. She just hoped Meriam had collected the information she needed.

She hid herself behind a shelf and opened her Mac, biting into her hotdog as she typed. She had noted her subjects on a scale of ten.

Subject n°1: Chad Berkney

Looks: 8½. Brown hair, golden eyes. Lean body, six foot tall. No tattoo seen. No piercing.

Occupations: Football player, always lip-locked with a cheerleader.

More pros: Prefers sports to studies. Beautiful eyes.

Cons: Looks too clean, like the perfect little jock.

Camille remembered Chad's hotness and sighed. Now that she had to choose a prospective lover, hot guys were beginning to pop from everywhere around her. It wasn't that she had never seen them before and talked to them even. It was more like a sheer curtain has been lifted from her eyes. Suddenly, she was really seeing the guys around her.

Subject n°2: Brent Sniper

Looks: 9/10. Black died long hair, blue green eyes. Lean body, if a little skinny, six foot one. Tattoo of a dark siren on his right breast and tribal somewhere on his lower abdomen. Tongue piercing; two eyebrow rings. Always wears eyeliner.

Occupation: Doesn't play any sports even if body attests to regular workouts. Known for being in lots of fights and a ladies' man.

More pros:Troublemakers are a huge turn on.

Cons: Smokes pot, has this glazed expression sometimes. Too yummy and dangerous. Could become attached.

Sniper was her favorite of the five. She was such a huge sucker for bad boys with eyeliner.

Subject n°3: Matthew Ardens

Looks: 8½. Blond hair, grey eyes. Sexy body, six foot two. No tattoo seen. A gold earring in his left ear.

Occupation: Basketball player. Known for his many contests. Hang out with friends and new week candy.

More pros: Mega-watt smile.

Cons: He was Gabe's friend and it was bound to-

Camille stopped writing. What the hell was she on? Just because he was Gabe's friend wasn't a reason she'd leave him off her list. So what if the messy business got to Gabe's ears faster than Speedy Gonzalez himself? She erased her former phrase and began again.

Cons: He had dated Rachel Menders.

That, Camille thought, shouldn't take him off her list. But she just had an itchiness to erase his file completely. Only the remembrance of his smile stopped her. She was going to use him for one night only. What did it matter if he'd slept with Rachel Menders? She wasn't going to marry the man.

Subject n°4: Adam Carvelli

Looks: 9/10. An Italian, what more can I say? Dark silky hair, equally dark eyes. Toned and tanned God-like body, six foot.

Occupation: Football player. Known for his charm with the ladies and the manners of a perfect gentleman until it comes to the string of broken-heart he leaves behind.

More pros: Yummy Italian drawl.

Cons: Could get attached. He's too good a charmer.

Adam was right up there with Sniper in her mind.

Despise their differences, all her choices had something in common: they were known to be commitment-phobic. And that meant she wouldn't find herself with a boyfriend glued to her hip after a night of great sex.

And she didn't doubt the great sex part. Because it was all really simple -as long as the heart wasn't in it - like a calculus exam.

You got the problem. Her virginity.

The theorems you used to solve it. Her lover.

The result. Freedom.

Along the way, she had to use the best tools to make herself hurt as little as possible and to enjoy herself as much as she could.

And maybe if she repeated THE plan again and again, she would find the matter done as soon as possible and the burden lifted from her shoulders.

Subject n°5: Cameron Waynel

Looks: 8½. African-American, chocolate eyes and shaved head. Lip ring. Six foot three inches of muscled body.

Occupation: Football player. Has girls jumping on him just by walking.

More pros: Looks as good as a firefighter.

Cons: Seems to be a sweet guy.

Camille was just finishing her salad and saving her now full "Victims" file when the bell rang. Lunch hour had ended and she stretched her body and went to class, happy to have begun her research.

A/N:

I have to rule out three of the five guys. If you were the writer, who would YOU choose?

Read again the qualities of the five subjects and tell me, they're all so hot that I can't decide.

Thx a lot Zan for picking the title with me and the editing. I put you through a lot woman ;)