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"Why am I not surprised?"

As I walk into the large office, I give our Vice Principal a cheeky smile, "afternoon' Pat!"

Yeah, we're close.

He sighs and stares at me while I take a seat, "why do you always end up here, Rayan? One would think as a teenager you'd have better things to do then get into trouble."

I shrug and swing my left leg over the chair's armrest, leaning back leisurely. "And you know the worst part? I never do anything. But somehow I'm always around to pin the blame on."

"I'm too sane for this," he says instead and I smirk, watching him lean back on his swirly chair.

Ever since I started freshman year two years ago I've always found myself in this office, on this exact chair, facing that same man.

And I was telling the truth before by the way-- I never do anything. Take today for example, some jackass tried to fill the swimming pool with ketchup and almost succeeded too-- until he ran out of the stuff.

It just so happens I was there watching (partly freaked) when he left to get more... and of course, it was suddenly my fault.

HELLO! I'm freaking allergic/disgusted to/by tomatoes! Why would I try to fill the pool with the stuff when I have swimming next period?!

But I stopped trying to defend myself years ago. Oh well. I'll probably just get detention again. Yippy!

Patrick-- er, Vice Principal Eddings glances at me with a shake of the head then says something I wasn't expecting. Ever.

"Detention'll just be a waste of time... why don't we do something you'll actually dislike?"

He knows me well that man... I love detention. It's like an extra free period!

He instead picks up a flier and grins, my left leg slowly and unconsciously slipping off the armrest.

I know that flier. I hate that flier.

Oh. HELL. No.

"Why don't we sign you up for the Mater/Pet event, Ray?"

Something in me just died.

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"It can't be that bad," says my bestest estest of estest friends in the whole wide Galaxy, Rayne.

We're currently standing outside of English class (since we are both late), waiting for Ms. Evans to let us in.

"Rayne," I say, my once folded arms clamping her shoulders, "I'm being sold to slavery. Legal slavery."

She blinks at me slowly, her one of a kind pastel peach eyes all big and cute. "You're thinking too much of it!" she says with a flimsy wave of her hand.

Rayne Deater is perfect. Well no, not really. But she's extremely gorgeous though... a lot more than me.

We both stand at about the same height, but since she has really long legs she seems so much taller. Imagine, natural tanned skin with long, onyx locks.

She's thin, full in all the right places, rose petal lips and an amazing smile.

But what really makes Rayne Rayne is the fact she's a total retard. No joke.

The girl would (and has) burst out laughing in the library while looking up nincompoop.

Oh gosh I still lover her though, with her senseless humor and ever present optimism.

Sometimes though, we just don't agree. Like right now.

"No, Ray," I grab her waving hand, using the same nickname we both share, "don't you get it? I'll be a pet. A freaking pet. Just waiting for some freak to buy me! And Lord knows this school's infested with them!"

Iviston International Preparatory. A school where all the rich, snobby, freaky people meet.

And the only school where students would be sold to each other.

They call it Master-Pet Week (I call it Buy-A-Slave Week).

It's kinda like a fundraiser of sorts but not really.

Girls can either volunteer (depending on your GPA) or be voted in, or in some cases (mine) be forced in.

Throughout that dreadful week you must dress as some kind of animal (which ever you get) and get Points. At the end of said dreadful week there will be a bid, where the Pets with the most points get Bought. It's usually the top six that take part in the bid, but they get bought nonetheless and must raise money.

The ones who Buy you are a special group of students (guys) who are either very, very popular or very, very rich. Or both.

It's a lot like slavery if you ask me, having to serve whoever Buys you... Ugh.

Makes me shudder.

"You okay?" asks Rayne, and I realize I did indeed just shudder.

"Of course I'm not okay!" I cry back, resting on the wall behind me. "I can't believe he would do something so horrible to me... you know how I feel about stuff like this."

Her eyes soften and she gives me a sympathetic smile, I instead lower my head, my bangs falling over my face.

I'm self-conscious. No-- I can be really self-conscious.

I'm loud and what ever, but deep inside, my self-esteem is feeble and weak, ready to shatter at any moment.

I'm not ugly, I know that, but... I just hate being it.

Don't get me wrong, I have no trouble stepping in the center of a group and saying what I feel, but... I'm always fearful inside. Deeeeep inside.

I have caramel colored hair which I murdered, cutting it up and making it all spiky and uneven. What? I like being odd.

The caramel is natural-- so are the cocoa streaks, I swear.

My eyes are small and round (have you ever heard of such a thing? ROUND EYES?!), the color of moss and pond scum. That's one thing I happen to like actually, I love the color of pond scum.

My skin? Ivory. I can't tan. No matter how hard I've tried to, I always end up looking like a lobster. Gah!

My body isn't that bad either, I'm not fat (or even chubby, damn it!) nor am I a size two. It's in between, forever lost in the up and coming sizes.

My fashion sense is mine and mine alone, I love to mix bright and dark colors, put stuff together that some might find out of the ordinary.

Ha! Like right now, a black and gray sweater with a yellow hoodie underneath said sweater. Hehe. I'm wearing a really soft and silky purple mini skirt (my sister's), my favorite black skinny jeans underneath with some purple and yellow slip-ons.

So yeah, my self-consciousness is pretty irrational.

"Look at bright side," says Rayne suddenly, her voice going cheery and bubbly (more than usual), "you won't be alone!"

My head snapped up so fast I'm seeing dots.

"What?"

She grins and nods, "yup. I got voted in, Ray!"

My mouth drops but I should have seeing it coming, and I did. Rayne always gets voted in, but always drops out.

"Are you staying in this time?" I ask quietly, squeezing my studded belt.

She nods yet again and I grin, "thanks so much Ray!"

And we hug, the door bursting open. Ms. Evan blinks at us, not surprised.

We do the hugging thing a lot.

"Passes?" she asks instead, and Rayne gives her her nurse pass (she has asthma and needs to take her medicine) and I give her Vice Principal Eddings' hand written note.

She stops and squints at the note while I walk past her, "you have a lot of guts kid."

I shrug, and half sarcastically say, "I guess putting my life in danger by filling the swimming pool with ketchup is a big deal, huh?"

She looks at me oddly. What? Does she not know what even sniffing tomatoes does to me?!

As I walk further in I notice the class in bent over their corresponding desks, buried into their work.

That is odd... well, for my class.

I walk up to my desk (by the window! Woot!) and don't even bother to take out anything, class is almost over anyway.

I glance out of the window, finding the cloudless blue sky inspiring.

"Psst!"

Ah. Took her long enough.

I turn my head slowly to the right, facing Devorah.

Devorah and I are friends, not like Rayne though, but we're still close.

She has sunny blonde hair, long (I mean really-really-past-her-butt long) and wavy.

Large crystal blue eyes, and two perfect rows of bright pearly teeth.

I know what you're thinking-- a living barbie? No.

Devorah's down to Earth and smart, she's organized and independent.

I've known her since middle school, unlike Rayne, whose mom has changed my diapers and vice versa.

Devorah waves at me and mouths "what now?".

I blink and point at the clock. For Gosh's sake, there's only five minutes left. She can wait, right?

She nods at me and smiles, of course she gets it.

As if on cue, Ms. Evans walks in front of the class, "alright, you may all stop for now."

I (out of innocent curiosity) look behind me, only to realize the guy had been snoozing all along.

And no, I'm not gonna wake him up!

"For homework you must finish chapters 13-20 and answer the questions on the board. As you do I'll speak to you about the up and coming events."

Well, damn.

"Next week as you all know is Master-Pet Week."

The giggles that followed made my stomach churn.

Can you say WTF? What. The. Fuck.

"Ah... so you do know, good," she continues, her brown hair bouncing with each step, "today will be your last day to vote, though we already have some candidates!"

Cue the cheering.

"Let's see, from this class we have..." she squints at a list, her glasses sliding down her nose. "Yes, we have, Rayne Deater..."

The guys whistle and I clap along, watching with pure amusement and adoration as her cheeks flush. Aw.

"...Devorah Shane..."

Devorah actually stands and I still clap. She's still a friend, ya know?

"And the last one..."

My hands stop clapping. Last one? She wouldn't mean...

With pure horror I watch as she picks up the note I handed her earlier, I hadn't bothered to read it. Crap!

"Ooh... we have Rayan Forrester!"

So that's why she said I had guts.

...cue the dramatic gasps.

I stare around the classroom, realizing Rayne is the only one not surprised and still clapping happily.

"That's impossible," someone says, a boy, and all eyes fall on him.

Erik Danerick.

Also known as the-asshole-everyone-hates-but-still-hang-out-with-for-reasons-yet-to-be-discovered.

"No one voted for her," he continues, then stares at me smugly, "unless you volunteered, Forrester?"

I cross my arms below my breasts, I don't take crap. From anyone.

"No, Danerick, I did not volunteer. But I totally could have-- but I didn't. This, all of you might be shocked and even frightened to realize, is a punishment. This is my detention."

The silence took over until the stupid bell finally rang.

I like our bell. Because, well, it doesn't ring. No. It kind of ding-dongs, not like a Church bell either. Hmm... Like those in a Japanese school. Yeah. Really cool!

I exited the room, throwing my tote bag over my shoulder, I don't have an attitude problem, do I? No. I just don't like being stepped on, or watching anyone else getting mistreated either.

Huh. Must be 'cause my dad's a cop.

As I walk down the hall with Rayne, Devorah catches up. "Oh my Gosh! This is so odd... you in the contest, I mean. Unheard of."

I nod, taking out my iPod, "blame the Vice... he finally realized detention doesn't work on me."

My friends don't consider it rude when I put on my ear buds and blast my iPod to the max, they're used to it.

So I do.

I put on Rape Me by Nirvana as we exit the school building and walk the through campus to get to the parking lot. Rayne and Devorah's lips are moving but all I hear is, "RAPE ME!"

Hehe.

Suddenly I think I've gone deaf. There's this high pitched squeal that goes right through my very loud music, and with horror I realize only one thing.

Fan girls.

I turn my iPod off and stare at where everyone else is, the school gates.

By now there's a herd of girls jumping and screaming, I squint my eyes. "What the hell? Free ice cream?"

There's another scream, but this one is right beside me. I turn and stare at Devorah, who is red all over and shaking.

"Uh... Rayne, should we be worried?"

Rayne in response scoots closer to me, eying Devorah oddly. "Holy Guacamole, Ray... I think Dev's one of them."

And as if on cue she squeals again and runs towards the group, while we just stand there, watching the cloud of dust.

Before we can even blink Devorah returns, "Come on!! Don't you wanna see?!"

We don't even have a chance to argue, because before we can even exhale, she has us by the wrist and pulling us through the crowd.

Fan girls. This is unknown territory.

I look at a nervous Rayne, "since when has Devorah been a Fan?!"

I practically have to scream for her to hear me, everywhere around me is chaos. Gosh!

Devorah stops and lets go of our wrist, Rayne hiding behind me.

The blonde points excited to a black Lincoln with tinted windows parked right before the gates. I squint, what? A car? What of it?

What I thought was impossible before is proven wrong as they scream louder, and I am forced to cover my ears. Some major suing will be done.

I stare around and see the object of their affection. And it isn't the car.

A senior.

Shero Akimiya.

Beside me, Devorah begins to hyperventilate while some girls foam at the mouth and actually pass out.

Wow.

I glance at the boy and can only ask what the big problem is.

He's not that hot. Pfft.

He's Asian, well, Japanese, and is freakishly tall to be such mind you. His hair is obviously bleached, and really messy. His eyes are a blurry gray, almost like the sky before a monsoon. His skin is pale and he is dressed in all white, strutting down the gravel path.

How do I know so much about him? Internet. The school website has a side just for people like him.

His eyes are covered in large sunglasses and all his attention is focused on the device in his hands, an iPod.

Okay, so he isn't that bad.

But still... I don't like him. He just struts down the path without giving anyone a glance. Doesn't he realize people are fainting over here?!

I shriek as someone falls behind me, all their weight going on me and tilting me forward.

I fall. Hard.

And it's funny actually, I supposed it may look like I leaped from the crowd and tried to get a touch of him. Yeah fucking right.

I stare behind me and realize the girl had only passed out, and her limp body was where I once stood.

Then, without me noticing, there's this silence.

And Shero is staring right down at me.

Damn it!

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A/N: Hi. :) Please review?

Any mistakes please point them out! I loathe bad grammar.