Author: Izzy the Impossible PM
What do you want, Pretty-boy" it was more of a statement than anything. "I do have a name, you know." His smirk was absent, replaced by a small frown. I kinda liked that look. At least it didn't piss me off. "Your point being?" SLASH M/MRated: Fiction M - English - Romance/Humor - Chapters: 30 - Words: 105,257 - Reviews: 214 - Favs: 156 - Follows: 171 - Updated: 07-04-11 - Published: 08-10-09 - id: 2707886
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A/N: Alright, so this is my first story on this sight, and I have some things to say. First of all, I'm the kind of person who switches between stories, mostly because my inspiration is sporadic and likes to dissapear and then reapear in something else. It's a nasty little bugger when it wants to be, and a sweetheart at other times. It's untaimable and wild, so I'm sorry if it takes a long time for me to update...Second of all, I like reviews, but not flames. Constructive critasism is always welcomed and so is praise, mostly because everyone likes a little bit of flattery. I like to know that someone is enjoying my story, even if it's just one person. I will warn you that a lot of my work will be Slash m/m, but some won't be. I like to try to delve into different styles every once in a while, just to see if I'm good at it, and to work on my versitility. I don't have a beta, or even spell check, but I do do my best to reread everything I write and find any mistakes I make. Well I think that's it for now...So on to the story!
Chapter one: The First Step Into Hell is Often the Last
Staring at the, so obviously jock, group of males before me, I knew this would be hell. They were standing in the front of the school, apparently waiting for something, or rather, someone. I watched through my windshield as the ten of them, all wearing blue and gold letter jackets, and looking like clones, looked over in the direction of the parking lot. A large, candy-apple-red Chevy, with an extended cab, pulled into the empty parking space beside me. My car was too low to the ground to see the passenger of the truck, or passengers, if it were. I sighed as three more jocks got out, followed by a pair of preppy looking girls. You know the type, the ones who looked as if they were trying to look like they had just stepped out of a magazine, but failing miserably because the majority of models didn't really look like magazine pictures. It's called computer manipulation. So in reality, they just looked like wanna-be's, with their caked on make-up, short skirts, and tight shirts. I watched the group move on, not even noticing me, to meet up with their jock-buddies. They all looked the same to me.
I saw a few other kids making their way to the school, weaving through the slowly filling parking lot. It was remarkably empty for this time of the morning. It was already 8:00. School started in fifteen minutes. I usually got to school later, but I still had to figure out my schedule, and I wanted to find my first class before it started. At least then I would be a little more invisible. I clearly wouldn't fit in here. I grabbed my rough looking messenger bag as I watched the jocks disappear into the main building. When I closed the door to my innocuous little Ford Taurus, I felt my unwilting dread increase tenfold.
The only reason I was here, and not back home in California, was because of my idiot mother and her fucked-up version of a career. Of course, a lawyer is at the high end of the spectrum, even as far as white-collar jobs go, but California has plenty of law firms that would gladly take her. I still don't understand why she had to take the job out here, in the middle of fucking nowhere. When I asked her, she said it was because of the hours, and the small town setting. What she didn't say, was that she wanted me away from the city, away from "bad influence." That in itself was bullshit. She just didn't like that my friends were anything like me.
I sighed as I walked down the concrete path, lined by a perfectly manicured lawn, with a large stone plaque that was engraved with the school name, and a flag pole baring the state and nation's flags. It was all so cliché it made me want to gag. As I entered the large, black double doors (devoid of metal detectors, I noticed, unlike my last school), a few students who were loitering around the area stared at me. I suppose I was a bit of an odd sight in the small town, especially with my fairly unhappy, bordering angry, expression. I was taller than most of them, none of which looked older than sophomores. I stopped at the first gaping underclassman, a short red-headed boy, with baggy clothes and a green backpack. When I looked down at him, staring into his sparkling grey eyes, he flinched.
Not exactly unexpected, as he did seem the skittish type.
"Hey kid," I said in my low voice, not quite loud enough for most of the other kids to hear. "Where's the office?" It probably didn't sound like much of a question, because it took him a moment to answer.
"D-down the h-all," he stuttered, pointing to the left hallway. I figured there would be a sign, so I just nodded and headed in that direction. There was no reason to demand any more of the poor kid. I ran a hand through my overly long black hair while I walked the starchly bright looking hall. It was lined with pictures of what I assumed was the school's founding, and the original building. They looked old. I didn't stop to read the little dedication, but my old school had something similar. As I walked, my wallet chain was jingling against my bag, and the footsteps of my combat boots were loud in the unnervingly quiet hall. A few people stopped to look at me with curious glances, but I ignored them. The hall, shorter than I had thought it was, emptied out into a small commons area. It had many more kids than I thought would be there. Apparently there were a lot of kids that didn't drive. I stopped for a moment, surveying the place. There were four halls that conjoined here. One left, one right, one straight ahead, and the one I had just come from. Between the left one, and the one straight ahead, there was a blue half-door, above which read "Secretary-Evelyn Andrews."
My next destination.
There was also another set of doors, also blue, that led to the library, between the right and my hall.
I started across the opened space, going neatly around the heavily occupied tables in the middle, noting briefly that each other hall was lined with beige lockers, all floor-length. 'Great,' I thought bitterly. I would have to share a locker. As I walked, the group in the middle stopped their loud discussion. I noticed, with a great lack of enthusiasm, that it was the group of jocks.
"Hey, new kid!" One of them drew up the courage to talk to me after a few moments. Or shout at me. It wasn't as if I couldn't have heard him if he hadn't used that obnoxiously booming voice.
I turned my head slightly, barely looking at the kid. He was beckoning me over. I hesitated for a moment. He smirked when I took a step in his direction. He was typically built: tall, not overly muscular, but he looked fast, with long legs, and a pinched waist. His dark hair was done in a short faux-hawke; not exactly original, but I guessed it looked good on his sharply defined face and dark skin. There was a girl hanging off of him, wearing a blue and gold cheerleading outfit. She was pretty enough, but she looked so plastic, it made her ugly. The rest of them were similarly generic, but none quite as pretty as the boy before me.
As I approached the table, I gave him a bland look. "What?" I said, equally blandly.
"Hn. Well well, I didn't think they made 'em any weirder than Shelbie, but I suppose you top 'em all, kid..." The guy looked so full of himself. He was obviously the leader.
"Yeah, what are you tryin' to pull, lookin' like that, goth boy," said another, on the other side of the table. He had a particularly ugly looking scar down his cheek.
"Freak," one coughed.
I raised an eyebrow at this one. He was the smallest of the bunch, and fairly skinny. His blond hair was cut short, spiked at the front. His grin faltered at my look. I had that effect on people.
The leader was still smirking when I looked back over at him. "What's wrong? Scared?"
"He's probably too stupid to talk." This one, sitting at the next table over, was huge, with green eyes, an overly large chin, and a buzz-cut.
"Petrified," I said simply, not even glancing at their expressions as I calmly turned and went in the direction of my original destination.
"Hey!" he called again.
"Look, pretty boy. As much as I'd like to stay and chat in dumbass central, I've got shit to do," I cut him off as he was about to speak again, not even turning to look at the asshole. I assumed they weren't talked to like that often, because they had no more to say. I entered the cozy little office, quieting my steps a bit. The woman at the desk, who I assumed was Evelyn Andrews, was leaning over in her chair, picking something up from the floor behind her desk. When she resurfaced, she gave a startled squeak at the sight of me. She was fairly young, no older than thirty-five, with bright red hair, and minimal make-up. She was extremely pretty, despite the naive air that she gave off. Her pencil, the one she had just picked up, had dropped from her hand; hit the large wood desk, only to roll to the floor again. Her left hand was clutching at her chest. She heaved a huge sigh after a moment, and then gave a nervous chuckle.
I painted a small smile on my face, because she looked like she could use it. Her smile looked relieved, and I vaguely wondered if it was because my appearance gave the impression that I didn't smile at all.
"What can I do for you dear?" she said in a sweet, albeit harried voice.
"I'm new. I need to get my schedule." My own voice, calm and a bit unenthusiastic, was as kind as I could make it.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, looking for all the world like she had won the lottery, or maybe just done a good job on something. "I have that right here!" She picked through a stack of papers, pulling out one, looking it over. "You're Skyler James, right?" I gave a small nod. Her smile grew. It made her look even younger. "Here you are then, dear. If you want, I can ask someone to help you find your first class. I'm fairly new, and I don't have much need to find classes, so I can't help you much."
Before I could answer, she jumped from her seat, and strode quickly to the door.
"Jordon!" she called.
I couldn't see who she was calling, because she was standing in the way.
"Yes, Ms. Andrews. What's up?" said a smooth voice that I recognized immediately.
"Ms. Andrews, I'm sure I'll be fine." My voice was steady as I stared into the pretty-boy jock's face as he entered the small space.
Today was going to be hell.
A/N: Okay so I'm kind of excited that I'm putting this up, mostly because I started it a while back and have just gotten some renewed inspiration for it. It's going to be pretty long by my standards, so it'll take a while to finish, but it should be worth it! And remember, I like reviews! They make me write faster...