Summary:

The Incident. A painful memory for three girls; Haley Andrews, Faith Greene and Amelia Loretto. The outcome for each girl was different.

One came out with a boyfriend.

One came out without anyone.

And one came out with a special someone.

But things are about to change, one year later, Haley Andrews decides that being the loner won't get her anywhere, so she decides to take matters into her own hands. Starting with the Florida Girls, a group of girls from Florida. Eh, first she should find some girls from Florida...

Faith Greene concludes that she should befriend Haley again, being Miss Nice. She also decides what to do with hot/cute friend Finn...whoops, she trips again.

Amelia Loretto is clinging onto her new boyfriend, and frown-wrinkles appear in her forehead when she notices her super-hottttt boyfriend talking with another girl. GASP! She decides to stalk the girl, after all, these boots were made for stalking! But she needs a companion, and who better to ask then Miss Faithful, Faith? Gulp.

These girls weren't asking for trouble. Nor were they asking for boys, gatorade and hairdryers.

Chapter 1

HALEY'S POV

"Haley Andrews, if you don't get your hands busy cleaning out that closet-" my over-obsessive mother calls up the stairs. I roll my eyes. The right thing to do in these situations was to call back the nicest thing possible, and that would be-

"Yes!"

I flip onto my belly, slapping my collection of stuffed animals off my bed. I groan. I hated cleaning up my room just like the next kid, but I had better things to do, like sulk. Or something.

I remember when I first moved into this screwed up place; everything had been--white. Like, literally. My bed spread and comforter had been white. My walls had been white. The fluffy carpet had been white. And my dresser had been white. But the place had dramatically changed over the years. My bed turned green when I was going through that environmently friendly phase at thirteen. The walls--well, the walls, for all I could know, it was burgundy now. Why? Because every single inch of my walls were covered in posters and Post-It's. But I had nothing to add now, 'cause my BFFs had sorta left zilch, nada. After The Incident, anyway.

I stumble to my open closet, 'cause you know, girls always have their closets open. Falling out of it were all my would-be designer clothes. Yeah, well, after The Incident dressing good was like, far from my mind.

I glance into the mirror and frown at my appearance. I was abruptly greeted by a sad face, straight nose and pale skin that had obviously received no care. My shoulder-length strawberry blonde hair, and blue eyes were nothing to squeal about. I raise my eyebrow, and the reflection raises it's sharp, arched eyebrow as well. My tight, full lips would've been kissable-if there was anyone to kiss. I was still an A cupper, much to my dismay, and that was NOT normal for the average 15 year old. I sighed at my overweight body. Okay, it wasn't fat, but all the girls in my class found 115 IB normal, compared to my 140 IB, anyway.

My face was actually ghastly.

Yup, just your typical suicidal-looking teen.

Sighing, I returned to my stupid closet, pulling out the flashy/slutty clothes, one by one. Okay, it was more yanking, 'cause you know, I'm the angry type teen. When my hangers were free of clothing, I dive for the boxes and old boardgames. Ahh, Monopoly, for the good ol' ten year-old days. I sorta smile, 'cause I have trouble smiling these days. I'm sorta planning to just chuck the boxes up and out the window, but Mom uses her super-telepathic powers and like, screams up the stairs (how many times have I told her to use her indoor voice?), "And, Hales, you better check for anything useful in those boxes, or I'll-"

And once again, I know cutting her off was smart to do. "Yes, Mother!"

I want to pull out my hair, but my Mom would say in a venomous voice, "Your hair was my pride. What will I do now?" Ha, well, says the woman who bleached her gorgeous auburn hair white. Hypocrite. They surround and me, and I think they might swallow me up one day. I'll add that to the poem I should be doing for English. The one that's due after March break...Yeah, it can wait.

So, I rip open the wretched boxes, pulling out old textbooks and binders. I blink. Why do I have TEXTBOOKS buried in my closet. I blink again. Whatever, maybe Fai--

I would not say--think--her name. She was with the enemy. I blink back tears, wishing them away, but since God hates me, a few escape. God, will The Incident follow me to my college days? By then, I think-I hope-that I'll have a group of girls that are like from Florida or something. Yup, we'll call ourselves Florida Girls (take that, Katy Perry!). I opened a purple binder labeled, 'Haley Andrews. KEEP OUT! Or face deformation...' Wait, I knew a word THAT long last year? The binder seems familiar...omigod! It's...

My hands shake as I open the binder and flip to a random entry.

Dear Diary,

Faith, Amelia and I are going skating today! I know Faith'll fall WHILE she's putting on her skates, LOL! She's SO clumsy! TEEHEE! I hope Reece is there, he's like, SO HOT! But Amelia likes him too...:( that makes me SOOOO sad! Especially how she's gonna feel when he takes ME to the Winter Dance!!! I feel bad for her...:( she can go with Landon! LOL! He's SUCH a loser!!!

Anyway, I'm gonna wear this super tight purple shirt with this tiny skirt, which, omigod, TOTALLY shows my ass when I bend over! And I know how awesome my butt is, I've gotten some pretty perverted jokes over that! I have a plan! I'll pretend I skate bad, and like fall in front of Reece so he can get a good look at my butt AND help me up!!! It'll be like SO fun!!! Well, I better get going, I still have to go to Faith's house! TTYL!

Haley Andrews

First off, I was TOTALLY (omigod, I talk like my past-self now!) ashamed of me. I was acting like a slut, pulling on my five sizes too small skirt. Thank God I'd learned that Re- um, mystery man liked non-slutty girls. A bit late now...

Second, I was surprised at how much I had been willing to risk the cold to see Re- mystery man.

Third, I missed them. Even after she humiliated me, and led me to practically kill myself, I missed those fun times we had. My eyes trailed down the page, landing on a picture. Our arms were around each other, and Fai- mystery woman was practically falling down, the only thing keeping her up were me and Ame- biggest bitch.

I didn't realize I was crying until a teardrop fell onto the picture. Realization hits me, and I quickly flip to the end of the book, sniffing. On one page is written on broad letters is:

I hate her. I hate him. I hate EVERYONE!

My sentence ended in scribbles and the page was beyond wet. I was full out crying now, sobbing until my eyes popped out. I let out a scream of fury. I'm like this now because of Her.

"I hate you, Amelia Lorreto!" I shriek. Everyone in Wetherbury could probably hear me. Whatever. I snap the book shut and shove it under my bed; maybe I could read it when I'm super pissed. But then it'd make me more annoyed and I might burn the house down, and my fake-boobed Mom would throw a fit. I just stuff everything else into some garbage bags, (take that, um, I don't know anyone who sings about garbage...but singers are so desperate these days, that I think their may be a song about desks somewhere...iTunes calls for me!).

"Done, Mother!" I call down the stairs. I hear rustling and my fake Mom pokes her head up the stairs. Her hair is mussed up. Oh, God...not another boyfriend. Poor, Dad, I was eventually going to have to tell him...that can wait.

"Um, then put it out for the garbage men," Mom says, smoothing down her hair. Her usually perfect red lips were um, messy. I gulp.

"Why can't Charlie do it?" I ask, slightly lazy. I sant to go back to my very time-consuming sulking.

"You've been cooped up in your room for days now, hon," Mom snaps. I hear faint whispering and she blushes, her blush is pink, to match her cleavage showing shirt, and to oppose my tomato red blush.

"Fine!" I snarl, pulling the biggest bag down the stairs, I hear the downstairs guest room close and little whimpers.

Rolling my eyes, I pass the super-clean living room and bustle past the too-shiny-for-eyes kitchen. Thank you, Charlie. Pushing open the front door, I crossed the manicured lawn, with its tall hedges and clean-cut grass. I hated this bloody house. I dragged the bag to the front of the sidewalk.

Then I saw Her. Well, one of them anyway.

She was talking with a boy, I hadn't seen him before, but I don't see anyone these days. She looks human, well more than I do, and her mouth is open with her signature silent laughter. My face heats up, but luckily she doesn't spot me. Oh, wait, the boy is pointing at me! Her eyes are following his arm. Ohhh, he's pretty hot, but not as hot as a lot of boys I know. He has black hair and big brown eyes. A strongish built and he still has his baby fat, in his face anyway. I didn't see him shirtless yet, but She's probably seen it.

I hear his voice, "Look, Faith!"

I suck in my breath and take several steps back. Oh no, She's gonna see me...I stumbled backward and bolt for the door. Shit, she's smiling at me!

"Hi!" she calls, waving. I suck in my breath, look down and just ditch. I'm not coming back for a long time. I can assure you that.

"Mom?" I shout, clambering the stairs. "I tripped throwing out the crap, can Charlie throw out the rest?" I don't wait for her reply. This is why we losers stay isolated. We get screwed. I flop onto my bed and grab my stuffed animals.

"Oh, Parker, what would YOU do?" I ask. Yes, I still ask advice from my stuffed animals, and right now, Parker's floppy, gray elephant ears are the perfect thing to whisper my secrets. It's very cool. School was tomorrow. I have nothing to worry about.

Then why am I crying?!

Written by: Fafa

A/N: So here's the deal, three friends and I decided to write a story. There will be three characters, and they will be written by each of us. I'm Fafa, another's Beast and the last is

We hope you enjoy our story!!!

Oh, and I wrote all this on my iPod, so my fingers are just about dead. So, please ignore the mistakes or lack of awesomeness. Not all chaps by me will be written by iPod. I just didn't have access to a computer, and when I did, it was my new one which has NO SPELLING CHECK! (or Microsoft Word, but it will soon...) I can't live without it 3.

So um, yeah, enjoy! AGAIN!

Flying With My Super-Awesome Purple Rabid Monkey,

Fafa