Chapter One: Hazel, the Gang Leader

I climb the stairs to the third floor of my school, debating on whether I'd rather collapse right on the stairway or pass out when I get to the Student Council room.

I choose the latter, simply because someone might try to jump me while I'm sleeping – at least in the Council room, I had my boys there to keep guard.

With heavy footsteps, I open the door and step onto the floor, making my way to the third door on the right.

The room is perfectly air-conditioned and I'm glad to be out of the hot, August sun. The desks that were usually there are now all piled against the wall to my left, right next to the door, in an attempt to get them out of the way. In the middle of the polished, wooden floor, gathered in a diamond-like circle, are Sam Owens, Dylan Bryant, Elliot Cross, and Hunter Daniels, the main group that's right below me in status.

Sam, with his colorful Mohawk and bright purple contact lens, is sitting with his back to the window on the opposite wall with all the desks against it. His school uniform – a white blazer with black stitching along the shoulders and near the wrist-cuffs, a black tie, and white pants – is wrinkled and stained with some brown liquid (probably iced coffee). His eyes are concentrating on his hand of cards, his brows drawn together in concentration, a pucker forming in the midst of his forehead. I can see his shoes, along with the rests', are thrown in a corner.

Dylan, who's sitting on Sam's right, is more concerned with his reflection in the compact mirror than the game of cards. His long, blonde hair looks extra shiny today, showing more hints of strawberry than usual, and his hazel eyes look dreamy as he runs his fingers through his hair, fluffing it up a bit.

It's actually a shame Dylan was born a guy.

His broad shoulders and lean-muscled body takes away from the girlish beauty the guy has. But it's still there, especially when you look at his face. The uniform isn't helping either, the blazer somehow emphasizing the muscles he has, making them look more defined.

Sitting in between Dylan and Hunter is Elliot, who's running a hand through his short red hair, ruffling the already spiky-looking locks. Though, at the moment, it looks more orange than red thanks to the bright sun. He's smirking at his hand with amused brown eyes, meaning he either has a good hand or he's trying to freak Sam out into giving in. Unlike the others, Elliot's blazer is littered on the floor behind, lying in a heap on the floor next to his black converses.

Hunter looks bored mainly, staring absently out the window with his head resting on his hand. His soft black hair is down to his ears with the bangs cut just above his icy blue eyes. He's the only one still wearing shoes with his blazer partially opened, revealing the midnight blue FOX shirt.

I plop down next to Hunter, leaning my back on his arm.

"You look tired, milady." Dylan comments, using the God awful nickname he knows I hate.

I sigh, covering my green eyes with my arm, "That's because someone doesn't understand when I tell them stop calling me something."

He chuckles, unfazed by my attitude, "You're just jealous that I look the Queen part better than you."

I snort, but don't say anything.

"Ha!" Sam suddenly says, the sound of cards hitting the floor echoing in the room, "Straight!"

Elliot snickers, coyly placing his cards down one by one. With a smug smirk, he says, "Royal Flush."

Sam growls, "Cheater! There's no way!"

"Don't be a sore loser, Sam." He pokes, "You should be used to it by now."

There's crashing sounds and I look up to see Sam and Elliot rolling around, each trying to pin the other.

I let out an exasperated sigh and lean back against Hunter, not in the mood for their games.

"That argument with that Hayley girl really took a lot out of you." Hunter says, nudging my shoulder a little with his elbow.

"Yeah." I groan, "Damn woman."

He takes a long drawl of his cigarette, "Hard to believe she was that much trouble."

"Don't say it like that." I snap, "You know I don't hit girls. Besides, she had her boyfriend and two other guys there. I had to avoid hitting her without getting hit myself. It was freaking hard!"

"Honestly, your majesty is too kind." Dylan says, playing with his eyelashes, "If it was me, I would've showed that bitch who's boss, then make her boyfriend get on his knees and-"

"Don't go any farther." I warn.

"I was only going to say apologize." He says innocently, "Such a dirty mind, your highness."

I roll my eyes, "That girl didn't understand anything. Beating her up for not knowing that her boyfriend attacked an innocent boy wouldn't have solved anything." I shake my head at the memory, "Talking as if I was the bad guy who allowed the kid to get beat up. Don't people understand that I can't be everywhere at once? I'm only human for God's sake."

"Not that it matters now, right?" Hunter says, "You took care of it."

"More or less. After getting her boyfriend and his friends to the ground, she begged me not to kill her."

"Their own fault." Sam grumbles, coming back to the center with us, "Ganging on Hazel-sama with only three guys? Do they take Aurora High's gang leader so lightly?"

"Hazel-sama?" I repeat, furrowing my eyebrows, "What does that even mean?"

He grins, "Sama is a respectful honorific in Japan. It's usually used when addressing someone of higher rank."

Elliot snorts, kicking Sam playfully with his foot, "You're such a geek. I can't believe you're still obsessed with those comic books."

"They're not comic books!" Sam whines, returned the kick by pushing Elliot's foot away, "They're called mangas."

"Same thing." Elliot snickers.

Sam tackles him again and they continue to roll around.

Again.

I sigh at the hopeless idiots, "Hunter, how is it that you're the only sane one in our main group?"

"Hey!" Dylan shrieks, "I take great offense to that."

"You should." Hunter states, "You're crazier than the idiots rolling around on the floor."

He crosses his arms with a 'humph', "You're just jealous that you can't touch my chest, Hunter."

Hunter rolls his eyes just as the door suddenly slams open, crashing into the wall, "Hazel! We've got a problem!"

I turn to the door and stare at a breathless Allen. His usually messy black hair is patted down with sweat that's slowly trickling down the side of his face. His grey eyes look back at me with worry setting in them – something that's fairly rare for anyone in my group, but even more so for Allen. The green shirt he's wearing has sweat stains building, but his blue jeans are too thick to tell.

"What problem?" I ask, eyeing him.

"Cameron… he… he went to fight Daxton High's gang leader by himself!" He chokes out, gripping the door.

My eyes widen and I stand up abruptly, cussing, "What do you mean by himself! Why the hell would he do something so stupid!"

"I don't know. When I asked him why, he said he needed to make sure the rumors wouldn't come true and then left." He explains, gaining his composure with deep breaths, "He threatened to kill me if I told you, but I'm worried something's bad going to happen. Daxton isn't exactly known for their fair fights."

"Damn it." I growl, nails digging into my palms, "That idiot! He should've waited for me at the very least!"

"The rumors?" Sam questions, gripping Elliot's arm that's locked around his neck in a chokehold, "Does he mean the one where that guy was supposedly going to 'take you out' no matter 'what he had to do'?"

Dylan sighs dreamily, a loving smile spreading across his face, "Awww! He wants to protect your majesty! How cute!"

"Now's not the time for that bullshit." I hiss, heading to the door, "Call everyone! I don't care what they say, if they're not there, I'm kicking their asses, got it?"

"Yes ma'am." Everyone but Hunter salutes.

I grab Allen's arm, forcing him to follow me, "Looks like you're taking me on your bike."

"But Hazel, I only have one helmet with me today." He says.

"Doesn't matter." I say shortly, "We don't have time to waste worrying about police."

He smirks, but is smart enough not to say anything, "Of course."

His black Harley is parked out in the front of the school gates, propped up on its kickstand.

The others have motorcycles as well – almost looking exactly the same, give or take a few details and designs – but they're parked in the back of school, out of the public eye.

In fact, I'm the only one without one. Simply because I'm only 16, barely old enough to have my license and too poor to afford any sort of vehicle.

Besides, if I'd try to drive a Harley, I'd kill myself and everyone else unfortunate enough to be on the road.

We speed down the road, taking back roads to avoid both traffic and police. After arguing for a few short seconds, I ended up wearing the helmet. (Because freaking Allen's a bossy asshole.)

Within twenty minutes, we arrive, but it looks like we're too late.

Cameron is on the ground just beyond the gate, looking as if he's eating dirt. His golden hair is a complete mess, blood streaking it with red. His hands are covering the wound, blood seeping in between his fingers as well.

Five other guys are gathered around him, each taking turns stomping on some part of him. One of them is holding a thick wooden club.

"Bastards!" I growl, turning their attention to me, "Who the hell fights five against one? Damn cowards!"

The Daxton High's gang leader, Harris something (I forget his last name), turns to me, fear flashing in his eyes. Quickly, he covers it with a smirk, pointing behind me, "Are you sure you want to say that?"

I glance behind me, seeing the crowd of guys coming. Each of different sizes and strength, but all looking equally pissed.

"What's your point?" I ask with a shrug, "They've come just in case you morons decide to do something stupid – like attack me all at once."

He snickers, "You know, I thought it was strange that a girl became a gang leader, but now I see why. You're hiding behind your boys, aren't you?" He laughs a little, "Is it that time of the month or something? Didn't feel like fighting me on you own so you sent him instead?"

My eyes narrow dangerously as his gang starts laughing.

"Or is it because you're sleeping with all of them?" He winks, grabbing my chin, "Well sweetheart, if you come over to my team, I'll be happy to do it twice as good as that boy lying on the ground does."

I smirk darkly, grinding my teeth slightly.

"This bastard wants to die." I hear Dylan say, shaking his head.

"Either that, or he's desperate." Sam agrees.

"I'm warning you right now." I growl lowly, "If you don't stop touching me, you're going to regret it."

He smirks before taking a huff of cigarette and blowing it in my face, "Feisty. That's how I like them."

I bring my right foot up and slam it down on his foot. As he lets go of my chin to grab it, I smash the tip of my black flats into his nose, hopefully breaking it.

"I told you to stop touching me." I say, standing over him as I shrug off my own white, uniform jacket, letting the green cami show.

His eyes widen, "What are you idiots doing? Get her!"

"Can we attack now, milady?" Dylan asks, flipping his hair behind his shoulder.

"Sure." I say, "Might as well take care of all of them."

When Dylan nods, the guys rush forward, going ahead of me to take care of Harris's minions.

I turn to the guy that was holding the club, eyes hard, "Are you the asshole that injured Cameron?"

The boy shook his head feverously.

"Wrong answer!" With a deadly kick, I send him flying back, skidding along the dirt.

He tries to get up and come after me, but Cameron grabs his ankle, causing him to fall again. He strikes at him and misses, earning a knee to the stomach from Cameron. As soon as he's passed out, Cameron stands up, looking as if he might fall down again.

"Idiot!" I yell, "Just lay there until we're finished!"

"Hell no." He says, smirking, "I don't like missing all the action."

I groan, but have to turn my attention to another idiot trying to take a swing at me.

Honestly! I know people admire him for his skills, but when you're hurt, you're hurt! There's no need to force yourself!

The brawl is over fairly quickly thanks to Dylan, who went on a rampage after some guy decided to cough up blood on his shoe.

I sigh, looking at the gang members lying on the ground.

"Great job, Haze!" Cameron says, patting my back, "Not even a scratch on you."

I shoot him a scowl and he instantly freezes.

"Now now, Haze. Come on. We just got out of a fight, no need to start another." He says, holding his hands up in defense as he backs up.

I grab his blazer with both of my hands, pulling him towards me and bringing his face down to mine. His eyes widen and a faint presence of a blush spreads across his face at our close proximity before I touch the back of his head lightly, feeling the warm liquid.

Angrily, I dig my knee into his groin.

"Ugh…" He groans, toppling over to the ground.

"Moron!" I yell, showing him the blood on my fingertips, "Do you see this! This is your blood, dumbass! Next time you decide to go and make trouble, make sure not to get yourself almost killed!"

"I'm… sorry… Haze…" He apologizes airily, rolling around on the ground.

I cross my arms, glaring down at his writhing body, "If you keep acting like an idiot every time some guy threatens me, you're going to get yourself freaking killed! The next time it happens, I won't let you call me 'Haze' anymore and then you'll be treated like the rest."

"So you're going to make me call you 'milady' and 'your majesty' like Dylan?" He smirks painfully, "Doesn't sound to bad."

"No." I say threatening, "Worse."

He shudders at the thought, nodding, "I'm promise I won't."

"Good." I turn to Dylan, who looks like he's about to radiate rainbows, "Dylan, take Cameron to the hospital." I order.

He nods with a brief, "As you wish milady." And I turn back to Cameron, "And I swear to God, if I find out you didn't go, I'll kick your ass. You understand?"

"Yes." He sighs.

"And Allen, I need you to take me back to school." I say, turning to him.

"Alright." He says.

We head over to his motorcycle, leaving the rest trying to help Cameron up.

"Why are we going back to school, though?" Allen asks, climbing onto the seat.

I laugh uneasily, rubbing my head, "I sort of forgot my bag there and I have homework to do."

His eyes widen a little with surprise before he chuckles, shaking his head, "That's so like you, Hazel."

Ok so technically this is based off of a Korean manga called Become Habituated with Kiss, however, the manga has stopped being translated and I didn't like the way it was going, so I made my own version. And since its not on FanFiction, I put it up here(: Besides, after a while, it'll no longer be like the Manga in anyway(:

I hope you like it!

Reviews are welcomed, but not required ;D