I was staring at the group of blondes (both male and female) who were chatting incessantly despite the teacher's screams.

Jasper Brown, who was a famous rock star, had decided to go on yet another world tour. Consequently, he left his son, Ryder, in the care of the prestigious Thomas Edison Boarding School. From what I'd currently surmised, said son was, to put it nicely, an ass. He was basking in everyone's attention, which meant that he was flirting with the girls, and joking with the guys very loudly. Not only that, but he was also giving Mrs. Madison, the homeroom teacher, absolutely no respect.

"Class!" shouted Mrs. Madison, trying desperately to turn the class's attention back to her. "I understand that you've just come back from your Christmas break, but we have two new transfer students that I would like to introduce to you before homeroom ends!"

Everybody quieted down at the prospect of having Ryder Brown introduce himself to the class. A girl next to me and I, on the other hand, just rolled our eyes.

"You've already met one of them, I'm sure-" she broke off to give Ryder a smile. "Ryder? Why don't you come up here and introduce yourself?"

The collective gaze of the class landed on Ryder Brown. The guys grinned, the girls sighed, and to my horror, I found myself checking him out. But hey, in my defense, he was pretty hot. He had intense green eyes, and a mop of shaggy chestnut hair that was a couple of shades lighter than my own. He was tall, around 6'2" or 6'3", and had a muscular, athletic body.

He got to the front of the class and began to speak. "'Sup guys. As you all know, I'm Ryder Brown, and I like cars, food, sports, and women," he blatantly winked at a couple of girls, and the entire class (excluding myself and the girl who sat next to me) found this to be uproariously hilarious. While he was walking back to his seat, a few guys got up, gave him that man-handshake-hug thing and told him, "Man, you'll fit right in."

Meanwhile, I sat at the back of the class, puckered my lips, and narrowed my eyes at his arrogance. Just because his dad made a few million did not give him the right to be so cocky. Sure, he was hot, but his good looks wouldn’t get him anywhere in life. I was willing to bet each and every cent I'd painstakingly earned on the fact that he was a womanizer, and judging by what I'd just seen, I was right.

My train of thought was interrupted when Mrs. Madison said, "Layal, why don't you come up and introduce yourself to the class?"

My heartbeat quickened, my breathing became shallow, and my palms started sweating. If there was one thing I hated more than arrogant rich kids, it was speaking infront of people. As I was walking to the front of the class, I felt the combined gaze of the students focused on me, and the Ben and Jerry's ice-cream I'd had that morning suddenly didn't feel like it had been such a good idea.

For one thing, every ounce of fat on my curvier-than-is-socially-acceptable body seemed to be magnified tenfold, and for another, I felt like I was going to vomit chocolate ice-cream all over the floor.

The class had obviously expected yet another airheaded cheerleader with a body akin to a model's. It'd be an understatement to say that they were surprised to see a girl with hair the color of Amy Winehouse's ever-present eyeliner, and brown eyes that seemed to be a combination of both shit and mud walking to the front of the class.

I'd by now made it to the front of the class, and after seeing Mrs. Madison's encouraging nod, began speaking, extremely aware of my accent. "Hi, everyone, I'm Layal, and I'm half American. My Dad's from Bahrain, which is a tiny island in the Middle East, and I've lived there for most of my life. We had to move here 'cause of my dad's job, and umm, I like reading, writing, and art."

All of a sudden, the incessant chattering of the students stopped, and everyone stared at me as if they'd never seen a human before in their lives. I lived a year in a couple of seconds as I walked back to my seat, amidst whispers of "terrorist," "bomber," and, "Bin Laden."

Needless to say, their ignorance and idiocy annoyed me to no end. Not all Arabs were terrorists. Actually, no, scrap that. The only terrorists I could think of were drug addicts like Bin Laden who pretended to be Muslims. Keeping my head high, I sat down, and the girl who sat next to me gave me a tiny smile.

"Hey, I'm Isabella, but call me Bella, and I'm the only person around here who voluntarily reads," she smiled. "And I like the way you said your name, it sounded very… out of the ordinary," she added as an afterthought.

"Thanks," I replied, giving her a quick smile, ignoring the stares I was getting. She was pretty, with chestnut hair, green eyes, and prominent cheekbones. The fact that she had blue highlights in her hair made me grin internally. Now here was someone I could be very good friends with.

A girl who sat in front of me turned around after she'd done manicuring her nails. "Oh. My. God," she said in the fakest voice I'd ever heard. "You actually read?"

Isabella leaned towards me, whispering not-so-surreptitiously, "That’s' Scarlett Long, she's a slut."

Scarlett narrowed her eyes at Bella, but then tossed her platinum blonde hair behind her shoulder, decided not to reply to her, and turned her gaze back to me. "You are such a loser," she laughed. The laugh itself was probably meant to be friendly, but her eyes were cool, so the amicability of her smile vanished.

"And you're a Scarlett Woman," I mumbled under my breath, but then immediately blushed; glad she hadn’t heard my lame comeback.

Evidently, Ryder heard her comment, as he whipped his head around and said, "Not to mention a terrorist!"

The class laughed and I scoffed inwardly. Evidently, I must've looked a bit annoyed, or a bit sad (or maybe both), seeing as I felt a comforting hand on my shoulder. I turned around to see Bella smiling at me.

"Pay no attention to them, they're all jerks."

I gave her a smile. "Thanks."

Mrs. Madison chose that exact moment to intervene. "Ryder, your father may be Jasper Brown, but that does not excuse the fact that you're hurting another student. That's enough."

Woah, go Mrs. Madison!

"Now, class! Since it's the beginning of the second term, I'll give whoever has English with me next the period off."

The bell rang a moment later, and everyone except Bella, Ryder, a couple of guys, and I were left in the room. The guys began talking about sports, while Bella and I began playing twenty questions.

"You ask first," she said.

"Okay, ummm, are all the girls at school as bitchy as Scarlett?" I asked, hoping against hope that her answer would be no.

"Nope-" I grinned, but then she decided to continue, "-but most of them are. I'll introduce you to a few of nice people later."

"Thanks," I said. A couple more people walked into the class. "Your turn to ask," I said.

She bit her lip and began thinking. "What languages do you speak?"

"English and Arabic," I replied, "But I wanna learn French and Russian."

Three girls walked into the class, gave me curious glances, and walked up to us.

"Uh oh. Beware. Those three are vicious. I know from personal experience," muttered Bella under her breath.

"Hey!" exclaimed one of them in an airy tone. "I'm Lauren. Are you new here?"

"Yeah," I replied, somewhat concerned about her seemingly anorexic figure.

"Where are you from? You look very exotic!"

If that's your way of saying butt-ugly, then thanks.

"My mom's American, and my dad's from the Middle East. We just moved here."

"Wow. Do you guys have, like, roads? Or cars? Or houses?"

"I'm Lucy," interjected the girl on Lauren's right, "Do you guys live in tents?"

I made an incredulous noise at the back of my throat, raised my eyebrows, and said, "Yes, actually, we do have roads. And cars. And no, we don't live in tents. Before we moved here, we lived in a perfectly modern two-storey house, thank you very much."

"Okay!" said the third. "I'm Lacy. And you're weird."

And with that, all three backed away.

"What was that about?" I asked Bella.

I got no reply from her, seeing as she was scribbling in a little purple notebook.

"Bella?"

"What? Oh. Yeah. Sorry, I just got carried away for a second there. What were you saying?"

"What's with those three? Are they sisters or something?"

"Yeah. Triplets. Lauren, Lucy, and Lacy Bridge. I'd stay away from them if I were you. They've been known to make friends and then take advantage of them."

"Has that happened to you?"

"Yeah. Anyway, back to twenty questions."

I saw she didn't want to talk about it, so I let it drop and continued asking and answering questions. We were both on our hundred and sixteenth question (we dropped the concept of twenty questions when we realized we'd each asked around fifty) when the bell rang.

Mrs. Madison looked up from the book she was reading. "Layal! Ryder! I want to talk to you, if you don't mind."

"Damn it," I muttered under my breath.

"I feel your pain," said Bella, who'd also expressed her dislike of Ryder. "Anyway, gotta jet. When's your lunch period?"

I consulted my schedule. "Fifth period."

"Yeah, me too. Wait for me by the vending machine next to the cafeteria door so I can introduce you to everyone."

"Thanks, Bella, I really appreciate it," I said gratefully.

"Yeah, yeah," she grinned, "Don't go all sappy on me. I think I might just cry!"

I laughed at the non-existent tear she jokingly wiped from her eyes, and she left for her next class. With trepidation, I walked towards Mrs. Madison's desk, where she and Ryder were conversing. I cleared my throat and they both turned their heads towards me.

Mrs. Madison gave me a smile and began talking. "Listen, Layal and Ryder, since you two are the only transfer students; you have to be partnered on a very important project we'll begin tomorrow. Everyone else will be paired off with their partner from last term's project, so no one will be able to switch."

I clenched my fists in order not to scream my guts out. I had to be partnered with the most arrogant, womanizing guy in the class, and to top it all off, he thought I was a terrorist. Why me, damn it?!

"Now, if you'll excuse me," she continued, oblivious to the fact that my face suddenly became murderous, "I have to go talk to the principal about the girl's who are shortening their uniforms. This is a prestigious school, and I will not tolerate my students dressing up like Paris Hilton," and with that, Mrs. Madison (whom I'd gained a bit more respect for) left the room, leaving Ryder and I alone.

"So," I said awkwardly, biting my lower lip.

"Look, I don't mind being partnered with you on this project. Just try not to blow me up whenever you get mad at me," he smiled, as if it were a joke.

I gaped. "Excuse me?" my temper decided to kick in. "I will not blow you up, you bastard! I'll have you know that I'm a lover of peace, and I detest suicide bombers, riots, wars, and killings. So please do not, I repeat, do not ever insinuate I'm a terrorist ever again!" I pinched the bridge of my nose, and tried to calm my breathing.

His eyes glazed over for a second, but then he shook his head, clearing whatever thoughts (or lack thereof) were in there. "Yeah, yeah, whatever, I'm late for class."

He strutted out of the room a moment later, causing me to gape angrily at his retreating figure.

Oh, this was on.

Revised 3/4/08