The Miserable Times of Perriot Ardswater

Summary: The targets: Perry Ardswater and William Betrand. The objective: Perry must fall in love with William and confess before the seduction of Veronica Whimsly. The setters/put-uppers/whatever you want to call them: An extremely meddlesome group called WOOB. The problem: When you put a hormone-less girl, a supremely beautiful and rich boy, and the possibility of love in front of them, it's bound to cause some problems.

A/N: Started on whim. Please review.

Chapter One

Transfer

The tapping of pencils annoyed me to no end.

Tap-tap.

"And so, plugging in the quadratic formula to this equation of 2x+34x squared would…"

"Hey, hey! Charlotte, do you have time after school today?"

Tap-tap.

"No, FURNELL, I do not have time to go out with a disgusting…"

"The complete graph of this equation shows the parabola…"

Tap-tap.

UGH. I shut my notebook and closed my eyes. Block it out, Perry, block it out…

RIIING!

Thank God.

Shoving my pencils and notebook into my bag, I dashed towards the door. Enchiladas were on sale today. Brilliant. As the classroom doors opened with a bang, swarms of hungry high school students, mainly boys, rushed to the cafeteria. Oh crap, oh crap…

"Where do you think you're going, Perry?"

A hand reached out of nowhere to jerk my bag backwards. I spun like a ballerina and fell flat on my face.

"…ow…"

Glancing up, I saw a group of girls stare down at me and snicker. Damnit.

Rubbing my head, I got to my feet and glared.

"That really hurt, you know."

They faked an innocent look. "Oh, my goodness! We're so sorry, Perriot…"

Oh man. They were really pissing me off today.

To match their sickeningly concerned faces, a sugary smile spun across my lips. "Oh, it's fine, girls. Of course, now I'm late for the lunch line, and the headmistress specifically asked to see me today…oh dear. However am I going to be able to buy lunch and meet the headmistress on time? But she'll believe me when I say, ah, that you pulled my backpack and—"

The head of the pack, a pale blonde by the name of Veronica, stopped me with a wave of her hand. "No need," she said briskly. A flicker of a scowl passed through her face as she snapped at two girls behind her, "Get her lunch. Enchiladas and an extra large coke."

I grinned. Victory.

As her "friends" dashed off, Veronica turned to me, with (if possible) an even sweeter smile. Her voice coated with honey, she asked smoothly, "Perry, have you found a…boyfriend yet?"

I stared. What?

"No, of course not. Why?"

Smiling innocently, she checked her perfectly manicured nails before cocking her head. "Don't you remember the purpose of our club, here at school?"

"Oh yeah. Something to do with keeping feminine beauty and what's-its."

A frown crossed her perfectly pimple-less brow. "NO! It's the Women's Order Of Beauty. WOOB, for short."

I couldn't help the snort that slipped out. The way she said it with a straight face, honestly.

Her scowl deepening, she crossed her arms. The girls behind her did the same.

Wow, robotic movement.

"My dear Perriot, I simply insist you take me seriously. WOOB is dedicated in keeping the school facility, reputation, and student population clear of any..ah, litter, as you can put it. Of course, as you should know by now, WOOB is extremely persistent on keeping school grounds clean, student records clear of any black marks, and…rooting out certain 'weeds' in the midst of out peers."

I blinked. The way the girls tittered in agreement in the background, as well as the little huffs of exasperation she put in between sentences, made the whole thing hard to understand.

"Er…can you repeat that?"

She tossed her head angrily. "It MEANS, Perry, that we are NOT HAPPY with you. And your contribution to the school. "

"Oh. Well, you could've just SAID that, you know, not launch into some lecture."

Veronica glared. The girls behind her seemed to flex somewhat menacingly, but as to what they were flexing, I had no idea…

"PERRY. You're not getting the full meaning here. We are upset with you because you are not according to standards. In other words, you're staining out school's reputation. Your class records show that you're intelligent enough, receiving top grades, but that's not surprising considering you're here on scholarship. What I'm saying is that you could make up that status as a scholarship pupil by acting social, kind, and TAKING CARE WITH APPEARANCES. Look at a mirror! What are you WEARING??"

How rude. It honestly wasn't that bad, you know.

My hair's short, since my mother insisted on cutting it right before school started, and it sticks out in some places, but it's not my fault that Mom has absolutely no experience using scissors on hair, and that my classmates got fifty dollar hair cuts every other week. I wear the practical uniform, but for some reason, I can't carry it off as elegantly as the other students. My jockey is always crumpled, my stockings are down to my ankles, and my shoes and bag have some amount of dirt on them. Probably cause I have to bike to school everyday. But otherwise, I don't see a problem. Oh, sure, I might be too thin, and wear horrible red glasses, but who cared?

Apparently, they did.

Luckily, I was saved by the two girls rushing up with my lunch. Ignoring Veronica's furious expression, I eagerly grabbed it, taking out one bite when a voice on the PD called, "Perry Ardswater, please report to the Headmistress's office."

Darn. Would the Headmistress allow me to eat in her office?

Giving a jaunty wave to a prune faced Veronica and her robotic friends, I strolled off, eating happily.

If I knew how unhappy I would be for the next couple of weeks, I would have spun on my tail and run off.

But unfortunately, I did not. So it was with a final sigh that I discarded the remaining of my enchiladas, and knocked primly on the door.

The headmistress of Anesbury Academy was a large woman, somewhat fit to the image of a snorting buffalo. Her face, plain and broad, was often resembled to that of a rampaging bull, especially when the scholarship student showed up.

Such as now.

Upon hearing the knock, she turned and barked, "Come in!"

A short, thin looking girl with cropped brown hair and glasses opened the door, timidly stepping in.

"Yes? Did you call for me?"

Headmistress Tentins squeezed behind her desk, shuffling some papers. "Yes, indeed. Tomorrow, we will be having a new transfer student, in your homeroom. William Bertrand has moved here from Nice, France. You do know where Nice is, right?"

An annoyed tone slipped into the girl's reply, "Yes, of course."

"Good. I would like you to escort William around the academy for the rest of the week. And perhaps a meeting on Saturday, so you can introduce to him the things he has to catch up on."

Perry's mouth dropped open. Upon seeing her shocked expression, the headmistress hastily added, "I'm sure you'll agree. You, as the scholarship student, have to contribute to our school as our top academic pupil. There is also the considerable amount of extra credit points…"

The girl closed her mouth. Opening it again, she asked with genuine puzzlement, "But why me?"

The headmistress waved a hand carelessly. "Oh, this and that. You're new this year, so I thought you would relate better. Also, the other students I requested were all a bit busy, on the account of parental affairs, while I expect that you—"

Here, she paused, before pursing her lips. Perry seemed not to notice the choice of words in the sentence, except by the pale flush that crept into her cheeks. Headmistress cleared her throat, before continuing on, as if nothing had happened.

"These are the schedule, locker number, and permission slip for the PE uniform, all for William. Give it to him during homeroom."

Perry scowled. This was blackmail, she thought savagely. However, the headmistress saw her grimace as a grin, and clapped her on the back with a smile.

"There you are, then. Now, you may go back to class."

The girl turned. Her hand slightly trembling, she had barely reached the door when the headmistress called out, "Oh, and Perry. Do be careful around him, will you? He's the son of one of our biggest donors. You won't want to upset him."

"I DON'T BELIEVE IT."

I sighed, tracing a miserable circle with my hand. "Believe it. I'm stuck with babysitting some rich brat for the rest of this week."

My co-worker, Tracy, was scampering around like an excited chipmunk. "What are you talking about? This is your big chance! If you manage to seduce him, he'll be your ticket to the upper social world! Imagine if you go out with him! OH MY GOD!!"

I groaned. "Tracy, shut up, or I swear I'll tell Mrs. Norris what you did last weekend, instead of doing your shift."

Tracy scowled, rolling her eyes delicately upward. "Pish-posh. It's not my fault you make everything so boring, with a nose stuck in that horrible book of yours, while Pierre is just so…dreamy…"

If snorting was a sport, I would've won the gold medal.

She shot me a glare, before clasping her hand in reverence. "You need to look your best tomorrow! I mean, if you're going to be hanging around a boy who's been living with beautiful girls all his life, you need more than personality! I'll go and see if Charlotte Russe is open, you certainly do need—"

I gave a moan, and threw my book down with crash. And that was no light book, I can tell you. Tolstoy had the genuine talent of writing an absurd number of pages on a ridiculously simple subject.

"Tracy, shut up! I am not going to seduce some rich brat, you are not going to help me, and you will STOP GOING TO THE MALL DURING YOUR SHIFT. Do I make myself clear?"

She pouted. "But Perry, dear…"

I gave her an exasperated look. "Do I look like some lesbo to you? I'm not Pierre or Charles or any of those poor boys you went out with. STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT."

Tracy sighed, before fixing a pointed stare at me. "You sure you're not lesbian? I've never known a girl to be so…immune to boys."

I rolled my eyes. "No, Tracy, I am not lesbian. I am perfectly straight. I did have a boyfriend before, you know."

She burst out laughing. "Him? Perry, that's not a boyfriend, that's a stalker. I remember you had to do your judo move on him when he got too close…"

I let out a growl of annoyance. "Shut up. Go away. You're annoying."

She was about to retort back when the door opened, the bell tinkling.

"Welcome to Norris's Café, how may I—"

I heard Tracy's voice falter, and let out a little gasp. I frowned. What—

Oh.

It was then, right at that moment, that I knew instantly how much trouble I was in for.

A/N: Interesting beginning? I hope. Chapter two is in progress!

REVIEW~