Chapter Two: Hello Shirley

"Mom!" I pleaded to my mother in my most innocent voice. I was honestly desperate at this point. I was willing to beg on my knees. "Please don't make me go to school!"

"Madeline Daniels." My mother yelled in her "Authoritative Mom Voice." Her commanding tone traveled rather easily from the kitchen into my bedroom in our rather small apartment. "If you don't come downstairs in the next five minutes I will hide all of the chocolate in the house for a month!"

I thought about not having chocolate for a month and almost cried.

Then I saw my reflection in my mirror and decided a month without chocolate didn't sound too bad. Curls spring out of my head in every direction possible. They all seemed to multiple by the minute, creating a halo of dark honey around my tanned face. The humidity blowing through my window was only making matters worse.

I looked like Shirley Temple.

No. I looked worse than that. I looked like Shirley Temple had a lovechild with Shia LaBouf while he was still on Even Stevens—pre-attractive days.

"I am serious!" I tried my best to make her understand. "I can't go to school! Everyone will laugh at me!"

Karma seriously just wouldn't let me catch a break. How the hell was I supposed to know that my inner Perm Goddess would be exposed after going to bed with wet hair?

How would anyone know that?

"Maddie!" My mom's voice got louder. She was talking business. She had already won the argument. "Get your skinny little butt in the kitchen before I have to pick your lock and drag you here myself!"

I sighed, trying my best to flatten some of the curls down with my palms. It didn't work. They all just sprang back to life. I had to settle for pinning the front sections back with a couple of bobby pins. I could only hope that no one noticed my new hairdo.

Yeah.

As if that was going to happen.

I reluctantly slipped on my old flips flops and opened my door. The smell of something burning guided me towards the kitchen. My mom was standing at the counter, spreading a good amount of Nutella onto a piece of slightly burnt toast. Just the way I liked it. She put the knife down and picked her finished creation off of the counter, spinning on the balls of her feet to hand it to me.

Her light brown eyes widened as she took in my appearance. The piece of toast dropped to the floor and she raised her now empty hand to cover her mouth.

There went my breakfast.

"Shit!" She muttered to herself, bending over to pick it up. There were still remnants of chocolate on the floor when she threw my breakfast into the garbage. "What the hell happened to your head, Madeline?"

"Mom!" I shouted, raising both of my hands to the curls, self-consciously trying to make them less curly. "It's not like I knew going to bed with wet hair would awaken my inner Perm Goddess! It's your fault, anyways!"

"My fault?" She asked.

"Yeah." I explained my logic that I thought up this morning. "If a certain evil mother hadn't forced me to take inventory all day, I would have finished my homework at a relatively normal time and taken a shower before 2:00 in the morning!"

"Boohoo." The corners of her pink lips turned upwards in a smile—no a smirk. "That should teach you to make another sexual joke about Henry while I am standing next to him. Plus, you had all weekend to do you homework. Don't blame me for your laziness."

I rolled my eyes, "It doesn't look too bad does it?"

"No!" She said, trying to stifle a laugh. Her cheeks tinted a light rosy color and her eyes twinkled with amusement. "I happen to think it looks cute."

"Cute? Oh my God! I am going to die! I am going to die a frizz-curly and embarrassing death brought on by teenage teasing and mockery! My life is over! I tell you, over!"

"Don't be so dramatic, Maddie. It reminds me of when you were still an adorable little toddler. Your hair seemed to have a mind of its own back then, always springing up like that. You also didn't talk so much back then…I really miss those days."

The sound of a loud car horn blaring outside broke her out of her daydream about the glory days. I pushed a chair out of the way to look out the window and sure enough Rachel was sitting in a silver Lexus by the curb. There was a Starbucks cup in her hand.

"I have to go!" I shouted, blowing a kiss in my mom's direction and sprinting to the door that led downstairs. "Love you!"

"Love you to, Shirley!" I heard my mom call out.

Great.

I quickly made my way down the old rickety stairs, holding the railing for support. My backpack sat on the cash register like it did every morning. I grabbed it and made my way to the front of the shop. The glass of the door was cold under my fingers and I instinctively flipped to closed sign around so it said open.

The air outside was warm and I could feel the sun peeking through the light gathering of clouds in the sky. It was going to be even hotter by early afternoon. I smiled to myself, having remembered to put shorts on this morning instead of my usual jeans.

The car made a clicking nose as Rachel unlocked it and I opened the passenger door. My foot was inside when I heard Rachel start her usual rant about my impeccable timing.

"Only four minutes—" She stopped talking when I sat down and stared at me. Well, stared at my head. "What the hell did you do? Get into a fight with your blow dryer?"

"Just drive."

~…~…~…~

"It seriously doesn't even look that bad."

I swatted Rachel in the shoulder as we made our way into the school building. She spent at least half of the car ride staring at my head and the other half commenting about it. The whole thing was really starting to irritate me. She was acting like she never had a bad hair day. It did happen every once in a while. Even to the best of us.

"Do I need to remind you about the time you showed up to school sporting a gorgeous head of cornrows?" I snapped at her.

We both had reached our lockers by that point and Rachel was already spinning the metal dial. "I am just saying that if anyone can pull it off, it's you. You don't even come close to looking like Shirley Temple. Her hair was short and frizzy. Yours is silky even when it's springing everywhere. And, it falls below the BL."

"The BL?" I asked, finally opening the rusty metal door. The lockers at our school were cheap and I just happened to get one that only opened about one out of the seven times I tried to use it in the day.

"Yeah," Rachel explained, throwing a couple of books into her bag. She brought her hands up and started waving them around her chest. "You know? The Boob Line."

I put my books for my first three classes in my backpack and then slammed the door shut. "Where did you even hear that from? Seriously. No one says shit like that."

"Everyone knows what the Boob Line is. It's practically the first hair term you learn."

"You're ridiculous."

"Shut up." Rachel yelled over her shoulder. She was walking to her first class of the day and it was on the other side of the school. "Save me a seat at lunch!"

I smiled and started walking in the opposite direction where I had American Poetry first period. When we were in grammar school, Rachel and I used to sit next to each other in every class. That was when there were only thirty kids in our grade. Now, there were roughly three hundred and fifty teenagers in our grade and we rarely shared any classes.

We were lucky to share the same lunch period.

Mr. Blackburn was already taking attendance when I stepped inside the classroom and I saw him check my name off of the list as I made my way to my seat. Choosing a place to sit was a task I always took seriously. I didn't want to sit too far up front and be called on for every answer but I also didn't want to sit in the very back with all of the slackers.

My seat was a happy medium—four rows back and six seats in from the left—not too far back and not to close to the front. It really was the optimal place to sit in class. There was only one drawback as far as I was concerned.

I had to sit next to Marcie Kensington.

I was surprised all of the fumes from her hairspray hadn't poisoned my health yet. She certainly wouldn't be miserable if that happened. In fact, I would hardly be surprised if she celebrated on the occasion of my demise caused by her perfect hair.

We weren't exactly fond of each other.

Right on cue, Marcie strolled into the classroom. She flipped her long blonde hair behind her shoulder and smiled at Mr. Blackburn before he could mark her as tardy. Every single head in the classroom turned around to watch as she gracefully sashayed her way to the desk directly next to mine. She carefully placed herself in her seat and took a notebook out of her designer handbag.

"Before I start boring all of you with beats and rhythm," Mr. Blackburn picked a sheet of paper off of the podium and started reading. "I have the announcements for the day."

Most of my peers ignored Mr. Blackburn as he talked about the various club meetings and sports practices. We knew most of this information already. No one paid attention until he started reading the last announcement.

"All students are required to make their way to the gym for an assembly at lunch. No exceptions."

The room started buzzing with possibilities. We hadn't had a school wide assembly (besides the first day of school) since the Sexual Health Survey. That was two years ago. The principle must have had something important to say if this was all so last minute.

Everyone quieted down when Marcie raised her hand.

"Yes, Marcie?" Mr. Blackburn asked.

"Is the assembly about the dress code?" She asked, twirling a finger around on her precious blonde curls. Her blue eyes turned towards me and smiled widely. "I noticed that Madeline Daniels seemed to be breaking some of the rules. I thought dreadlocks were against the handbook?"

I didn't bother giving a response.

~…~…~…~

"Stop touching them!" Rachel scolded, slapping my hand away from my head. "You are only going to make it look worse. Seriously, you need to stop freaking out about it."

"They don't look like dreadlocks, do they?" I asked, twirling one of the curls around my tan finger.

"Marcie Kensington is a jealous bitch." Rachel said, turning around to look at the said evil bitch that was seated several rows behind us. Marcie glared at her so Rachel flipped her the bird. "I don't know why you would even listen to a word she said. You know she is full of shit."

I nodded, smiling at Rachel and trying to think of a way to change the subject. I really needed to stop thinking about my hair. Rachel said it looked fine and I trusted her judgment.

"What do you think this is all about?" I finally asked.

"I don't know but I hope they aren't going to show us the STD presentation again," Rachel groaned, covering her eyes. I knew she was trying to whisper but her voice still carried over to all of the people sitting around us. "Last time we had to sit through that, I couldn't sleep for days. That was some serious mental torture."

A couple of freshman sitting in front of us starting giggling and their hands instinctively rose to cover their mouths. I also found myself laughing at Rachel's obnoxious way of thinking. The whole school has been buzzing with curiosity about the assembly since first period.

There was a makeshift stage setup in the center of the gym's basketball court. It had curtains and everything. It was usually used for the Senior's awards assembly at graduation time and I couldn't possibly think of any other reasons to use it—except for the mystery assembly we are all waiting for now.

A few minutes passed before the principle finally walked through the double doors. His stride looked powerful and a giant smile was plastered onto his aging face. Something pleasant began to stir in my stomach and I knew whatever he was going to say was big news.

He walked up the stairs onto the platform and took his place in front of the microphone. "I am sorry to have called this assembly into order so suddenly but I felt that I couldn't keep this great news from you all any longer."

He paused, taking a deep breath and all of the students looked at him with curiosity.

"A couple of months ago," Mr. Gerald continued, wiping his hands against his pants, "The set producer and director of a film approached me with interest of using our school to shoot some scenes. It was only talk at first. I didn't think much of it until they informed me last month that Lakeside High School was where they wanted to film their movie."

Everyone sitting in the bleachers stared at Mr. Gerald in shock and I took a moment to soak in what he was trying to tell us. Lakeside High School would be used in a film shoot. There would be actors and makeup artists and directors.

Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.

I thought stuff like this only happened in the movies.

"I know this seems like a lot to take in right now but there are a few more things I need to say." Mr. Gerald tapped the microphone, getting all of our attention. "Since the three leading actors are all teenagers who have never had the real high school experience, the director, Mr. Robert Hunt, asked if our school would also be willing to accommodate them until the end of the year, when filming would start. I agreed, saying that our student body would be welcoming but also respectful to these young people."

Rachel turned to me, her blonde hair lightly hitting me in the face. She was smiling so bright that it nearly reached her eyes. "This is so cool!" She squealed, intertwining her hand with mine. "Who do you think it is? Derek Yates? Melissa Harvard? Jeremy Lions?"

I lifted my shoulders in a shrug. "I have no idea."

It didn't matter that I had no idea, though.

Because, at that moment, three extremely good-looking teenagers, two boys and a girl, walked out from behind the stage curtain. They stood besides Mr. Gerard, all three of them smiling at all of us in the bleachers.

Mr. Gerald got in his last words. "I would like to introduce you all to Lucas Evans, Aidan Mercer, and Audriana Mercer."

They all look so perfect—so flawless. The boy to the right caught my attention the most, though. He ran a hand through his disheveled black hair and let his gaze roam around. I froze when his blue eyes stopped wandering, staring directly at the spot where Rachel and I were sitting.

I felt Rachel's hands slip from mine and I could just imagine the look of shock on her face as she realized that one of Hollywood's hottest young actors was staring in our direction. She would probably freak out and exclaim that he stared into her soul. I turned, prepared to make fun of her and stopped in my tracks.

Rachel just fainted.

A/N: A/N: Here is chapter two! I finished it pretty quickly but didn't look over all of the mistakes so please point out any errors. I had to think of a way to introduce the other characters into the story and I hope you all thought that it was relatively realistic…or not. Whichever you choose. It is fictional. Haha. And do not fret! The gorgeous Lucas will be in a lot of the next chapter most definitely! So, Review! Favorite Alert! Review! You are all awesome for reading! ~ Maggie