A/N: Since youandmeboth felt it necessary to post her email in a review, I will answer to it here as well. Yes, I admit that I stole off of her story. I realize now that it was very wrong, and I am changing the course of my story to correct that mistake. I am very ashamed by my actions, and I can't offer any explanation for it. I did not steal her plot; I saw a TV movie about it. I stole some sections of her story and passed them off as my own—therefore, I will be editing them. Only to a certain extent did I copy her ideas—everything else is of my own original design. My story is, however, uniquely my own, just as hers is uniquely her own. I did not copy everything she wrote, or copy all of her ideas—I have created my own characters, my own situations, my own…I suppose, in a way, family. So, I am going to be doing some editing to my chapters, and I can only apologize to youandmeboth, and to you, for passing off some ideas as my own. I feel truly sorry for my actions. I ask that you do not flame me; this only goes to show that I am human, and as a human, I am very capable of mistakes. Again, I am sorry—you have no idea how sorry. I only hope that you will realize this, and will forgive me my faults.
I could not believe my luck. This was totally, absolutely insane. What the hell am I talking about? I am at a boys' boarding school. Big deal? No. I'm boarding here. Now, I'm sure you're asking how the hell did I get myself in this really sucky situation. Well, there isn't really an answer to that question, except...well, fine. Let's go back.
"I can't believe you've dragged me out of the a slammin' vacation in the Bahamas to check out a boarding school," I said flatly, sipping my decaf. My mom looked back from where I was sulking in the backseat and grinned. "Because," she said, "you're going back to school in a few days, and we want to enroll you here."
"Your old school wasn't quite up to par with what we thought it should be," my dad said, stumbling over his words as usual.
"Uh-huh," I said, sipping very loudly, knowing it annoyed my parents to death. Dad glared at me and I smiled sweetly. And we were there.
It went by really fast, actually. My parents toured the school and I read my magazine. They even showed me where I was gonna board if I went there, and told me that yes, I would have a roommate, and no, I was not allowed to have TV here. How unfair is that? I mean, what kind of a boarding school doesn't allow their students TV or their own phones? Apparently Parks' Christian Boarding School. I'm sure that to you I'm coming across as some rich brat. Well, you couldn't be more wrong. I just like my rights, that's all.
Anyway, pretty soon the tour was over, and my parents were chattering happily up front and I was snapping my bubble gum in the backseat. I put down my copy of Skater's Monthly to listen to my parents' discussion. I won't bore you with details, but let's just say that I didn't have a choice in the matter. I was going.
Before I begin, you probably wanna know about me. Well, okay. My name's Kate. Kate Bradley. At the skate park, people call me Brad because they don't like Kate. Weird, huh? Well, I don't mind, because I don't really like Kate either. Anyway, I'm 14, and I have about shoulder length strawberry blonde hair, and really bright blue eyes. I love to roller-blade, snowboard, rock-climb, and play basketball. Total tomboy. At least, halfway to a tomboy. I don't fit in with the popular girls, who are all blonde, petite, and cheerleaders, yet I don't fit in with the popular guys, who are all dark-haired, dark-skinned, and jocks. So, mostly, I hang out with geeks and punks. Of course, at boarding school, which is where I go most of the time, we have dress codes, but there are still social distinctions. Oh well. My favorite subject is science, followed closely by history. Two very different subjects, but still equally as absorbing. I'm pretty smart, I guess, but I'd much rather be at a skatepark than at a desk. Well, back to the story.
During the next few days, all I did was pack stuff I had to have. My rollerblades, laptop (they allowed those for studying), a few different books, scrapbooks, and notebooks, some school junk, and one tube of lipgloss and some foundation. I didn't wear make-up much. I really don't need to. I don't like drawing attention to myself, and I do it naturally anyway, so why use make-up to only enhance it?
I was in my dorm room within one week, unpacking and recalling my parents' good-bye: tearful, hesitant, and they seemed nervous for some reason. No clue why. I mused over this as I plopped down on my bed in my T-shirt and capris and fuzzy socks, turning on my laptop.
I got online on MSN messenger and started IM-ing my best friend, Mike:
Sk8rGurl23: Hey Mikey
GoTigrs465: hey brad sup?
Sk8rGurl23: just got to my new school it sux! no tv or phone allowed except on weekends
GoTigrs465: ooh bummah whose ur dorm-mate?
Sk8rGurl23: still a mystery hope shes not some blonde bimbo prep
Just then, the door opened. I looked up, half-expecting to see some blonde cheerleader snapping gum and talking on her cell-phone. What I saw was definitely not that.
I uttered a small little shriek, slamming my laptop closed as a guy walked into my dorm-room, carrying a box of junk under his arm. He looked up and stepped back with surprise. "Whoa," he said, who the heck are you?"
"I room here," I said. He didn't say anything for a moment and then said, "Um, you're joking right?" "Why would I joke?" I asked. "You obviously have the wrong room." "I think you have the wrong school," he said. "What exactly don't you comprehend about Parks' Christian Boarding School for Boys?"
"FOR WHAT?" I screamed. "How in hell-for boys?"
"Um, yeah," he said, dropping his box on the other bed and slamming the door, acting like I was a simpleton. "Oh my God," I said. "There has to be a mistake." "I hope not," he said.
After a quick phone-call with my parents, them trying to be reasonable and me trying not to explode with fury, everything was explained. I was one of two girls at this boarding school. They were trying a new technique. Apparently, they didn't realize that girls rooming with boys could be a little embarrassing. My parents refused to come and get me and actually hung up on me.
The boy watched me with amusement as I slammed my cell-phone shut. "So you're staying?" he asked. I glared at him. I hated his smug attitude. "So what if I am?" I asked, my tone challenging. "You had better not try anything or I swear I'll kick your ass all the way to Paris."
"Oh, right," he said dryly. "Like you could manage that." "Don't try me," I growled.
"Besides, I don't go for girls who—"
"Who what?"
He looked me over and then smirked. "Never mind."
"My name's Matt," he said. I didn't answer for a while, and then answered shortly, "Kate." "Charmed," he said with an exaggerated bow. I don't like this guy. I wrinkled my nose at him and placed headphones over my ears to listen to Good Charlotte while resuming my discussion with Mike.
Sk8rGurl23: i cannot believe my friggin parents
GoTigrs465: what happened
Sk8rGurl23: i am in a boys boarding school
GoTigrs23: im sry i think you mistyped summin did u say BOYS boarding school
Sk8rGurl23: ya im roomin w/ a BOY
The headphones were lifted as Matt said in my ear, "Well, in a boy's boarding school, you usually do room with boys. It's typical."
"Don't you dare watch my conversations!" I said indignantly, shoving him away.
Sk8rGurl23: I hate my life.
GoTigrs465: understandable
Sk8rGurl23: i hate my dormmate he is such a pathetic know-it-all playah
GoTigrs465: cute huh
Sk8rGurl23: totally which is even worse
Sk8rGurl23: i hate my life