It's last period Anthropology class and I'm so bored that I'm counting the blackheads on the chick sitting in front of me. I can only see half of her face, but so far I've counted eight. Ugh. She needs a better skin regimen. I feel the urge to touch my own face as I think about this but refrain because those oils are so not good for you face and I certainly don't want to be the girl who someone stares at, counting all their dastardly blemishes. And then I smirk because yeah, right. Gwendolyn Attridge does not get blackheads. Not to sound conceited but I am one sexy, sexy bitch. It's just an objective fact.

My phone lights up in front of me with a text and I glance up to make sure Mr. Greer is appropriately distracted. As usual, he's writing shit on the whiteboard that only a third of our class is actually taking down. I check the message, which is Arianna Shane. Ari drives me nuts a lot but she's also my best friend and seems to know everything about everyone, so she's more than a little useful. It was Ari last year who found out that Lucas Davenport had an STD. Everyone ended up knowing by the end of the week and Lucas was so embarrassed that he almost transferred schools (overreact much?) but hey, the student body had a right to know. What if one of us had hooked up with him? I mean, chlamydia's cureable and all but, gross.

everyone's talking about ethans party! its gonna be a rager. your house at 9 to get ready?

I roll my eyes because 'rager' is borderline embarrassing vocabulary, but I'll talk to Ari about that later. I shoot her back a quick answer saying yes and then finally, fucking finally, the bell rings.

I toss all my shit in my new Balenciaga bag and throw it over my shoulder, getting the hell out of class. I don't hear the homework assignment for the weekend, but it's no matter. Mr. Greer is so easy to manipulate, it's almost enough to make me feel bad. Almost.

Ari and a few other girls from our group are right outside the classroom when I get out. It's kinda cute, how eager they all are to talk to me. And impressive that they always get there so fast.

Ari zeroes in on my bag. "Gwen, your purse is so cute!"

I know. "Thanks."

"So, are you totally excited for the party tonight?" This from a junior, Sara Cruz. She's B-List to my A-List, but she's the heiress to some oil company or whatever, so she gets to stick around. She just needs to wax her eyebrows.

"I guess," I shrug, as if I could give a shit. I mean, I am excited, but it's also just another party. An arm sidles around my waist and I look up to see the gorgeous, gorgeous face of my boyfriend, Ethan Hurst.

"Hi ladies," he greets, looking around at the girls. They all melt into a smile and I can't really blame them. Boy is babely. He's got that all American blonde hair, blue eyed thing working for him. Not to mention he's got a body pretty much chiseled from stone. It's pretty much unanimous among the female population that he's the hottest dude at Briarwood Prepatory. And considering I am the hottest chick there, it only makes sense for us to be together. Where he's all light, wholesome looks, I have tanned skin, dark eyes, long dark hair. Like I said, we're so hot it only makes sense to date. Plus he makes me laugh sometimes, I guess.

"Hi Ethan," Mara Cunningham greets almost shyly. Usually Mara is loud and never shuts up, but I guess Ethan has that effect. "How are you?"

"No complaints here."

I immediately bore of the small talk and give the girls all a smile that clearly reads 'fuck off now' and they catch on quick. They take off in a different direction, with Ari mouthing that she'll call me. I nod and then divert my attention back to Ethan.

"Ready for tonight?" He greets me properly with a kiss (and an ass squeeze), pulling me in close to him. I allow myself about ten seconds to kiss him back and then make us keep walking. I'm all for some good old PDA, but it's so trashy in the halls at school.

"Totally. Your parents are seriously totally cool with it?" Ethan's dad is the CEO for some insanely successful business and his mom pretty much does what my mom does, which is nothing. That's a trend among moms here. And who can blame them? When I marry rich (I have a wicked trust fund, but let's be real, I'm not going to be marrying lower class), I'm not doing shit either. Except for having a lot of really amazing sex and maybe some interior decorating.

"Oh, yeah." He nods at some of his teammates as they pass (he's the quarterback for the Trinity Chargers – told you he was all American), echoing a million times that he'll see them tonight. "I mean, I'm only having like nine or ten people over."

I start to raise one perfectly arched eyebrow but then he winks at me, and I catch on. Once we're at the parking lot, he kisses me again and I let him for a little bit longer this time. After all, my boyfriend is a fox. Especially all beautifully suited up in his school uniform. Uniforms suck, but the boys look cute. It also means that I have to stay in shape all year long, because no one wants to see flabby thighs in a skirt, but I've learned to get that under control.

I pull away and hop into my Audi, blowing him a kiss before cranking the stereo and cruising out back home. Our house is totally gorgeous. It's a classic Victorian mansion (restored and refurbished, naturally). It has more than enough space for my parents, me and my brother, Jude. My dad makes like, a million dollars a minute (okay, not quite, but he's a shit hot attorney and he makes bank).

I pull up into my parking spot. Jude isn't home yet. He's probably doing something wholesome like studying. Or maybe he's hanging out with Anna Chardon, who I would be convinced he was fucking if he didn't constantly swear they were just friends. Eh, I was still kind of convinced.

As I get out of my car, I notice that next door there's someone pulling out boxes from a big van. I knit my eyebrows, confused. Since I was three, the Forbes have always lived next door to us. Mr. Forbes is kind of intense and his son Tristan, who was my age, was a tool. He was normal enough growing up but then he started acting up a few years ago and getting messed up in all sorts of shit (I heard he burned down an entire building) so they shipped him off to boarding school in New Hampshire. Which, thank God. He pretty much made it his mission to annoy the shit out of me and usually succeeded. So the male Forbes were two people to avoid but Mrs. Forbes was actually really sweet. She taught English at Briarwood and was well liked by the student body. In a horrible twist of fate, she died a few weeks ago in a car accident. Drunk driver or something. It was really awful and our school was pretty quiet for a week.

Was someone else moving in? I stared for a moment, despite myself, wanting to get a look at what was happening when I heard a man's voice coming from the front steps next door.

"Is that almost the last of it?"

They sounded cute. It's a gift of mine. I can tell how cute someone is from the sound of their voice. No, really. I pretended to be fiddling with my keys, waiting for the source of the voice to step out.

"Last box," the mover answered and the man stepped out. I gave him a quick, discreet appraisal. Dark hair a little shaggier than I like, but I could work with it. Some scruff on his face, which was actually kinda hot. Tall, broad shoulders. Tattoo peeking out underneath his t-shirt sleeve, which wasn't really my thing either, but hey – wait. Wait a damn second. I know that tattoo.

"Gwen?"

He looks over at me at that exact second and I glower at him for noticing me before I have a chance to sneak away. "Tristan." He hadn't been completely scrawny last time I'd seen him, but he had not been nearly this built. These few years had done him good. Not that I'd ever admit it. "You're… back." I make sure to get across how unenthused I am in my voice. But his mom did just die, so I leave it at that.

"You bet I am. Miss me?" He smirks and I just want to slap it off his technically attractive face. Fucker.

"No, actually. It's been a pretty peaceful few years," I say pointedly and start storming back up my walkway, mentally kicking myself for stopping at all.

"I'll have to see what I can do about that, then," he calls out and I don't even have to turn around to tell there's a big fucking smirk on his face. I flip him the bird and almost manage to unlock my door when he speaks again.

"Oh, yeah. And I hear there's a party tonight." I stop. How in God's mother effing name did he hear that already? When I hadn't even known he was back in town? Wasn't Ari supposed to always know this stuff and fucking inform me? I contemplate being the bigger person and just ignoring him and going back inside but I turn around anyway. "Yeah. At my boyfriend's house." I realize that it's a mistake to say that. I got across the point that I have a boyfriend, but I also made it that much easier for him to figure out where the party was, in case he hadn't already known. "And you're not invited."

He doesn't even react, just keeps that shit eating smirk fixed on his face and takes the box the guy. Just before I slam the door shut I hear, "See you tonight!"

Fucker.