All the guys jumped up from their seats and started dancing, fist-pumping like there was no tomorrow. I rolled my eyes and went back to the math homework in front of me, reaching over to the table to grab a handful of chips.

"WHY AREN'T YOU CHEERING, RIA?" Grant shouted at me, leaning down to stuff his face in front of mine. I cringed.

"Oh, my God," I muttered. "Go away."

"GET UP AND DANCE RIGHT NOW!" he yelled, picking the textbook and notebooks up from my lap and dropping them on the floor before grabbing my hands and pulling me up.

"Hey!" I said, jerking my hands away. "That's due tomorrow!" I leaned down to pick up all my stuff and plopped back down on the couch, staring down at the problem I'd been working on for the past twenty minutes.

"You are the biggest buzzkill I've ever met," Jackson growled, sitting right next to me. "If you're gonna come over here to watch football, why aren't you watching football?"

"I didn't come over here to watch football," I explained, matter-of-factly, putting my hands in my lap and looking up at him. "I came over here because my house is boring as shit and you guys are much better company. I hate football."

"Well, no dur," Grant said, sitting on my other side. "Of course we're better company. We're the best freakin' company in the world. But I don't understand how we're friends if you hate football. What the hell are you even doing in my life?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, go do your touchdown dance," I said, swatting at his head. He glared at me and stood up, completely focused on the game once again.

"Seriously, though," Jackson said, raising his eyebrows at me. "If you're gonna come over here, on Sunday night, don't expect to get any work done."

"I realize that now," I said, sarcastically, rolling my eyes. "Thanks for the tip, Jay."

"Here to help," he said, grinning. His brown eyes, kind not seconds before, suddenly turned mischievous. I stiffened. I knew that look.

"Okay, whatever you're about to do, don't you DARE!" I screeched the last word as Jackson shoved all of the homework off my lap and picked me up, throwing me over his shoulder.

"Hey, guys, let's go get Ria in the party mood, shall we?" he called to the rest of the guys who had just turned from the flat screen tv on the wall when the game went to commercial. Six grins appeared on the terribly happy faces in front of me.

"I swear to God -" I started, but didn't get to finish. They all charged as Jackson ran out the open door behind him to the backyard. Where the pool was.

Jackson ran to the deep end and started laughing wildly. I was screaming for him to put me down, yet with no success. The rest of the guys caught up and all seven of them were chanting my name.

"RIA! RIA! RIA!" I screeched as Jackson swung me off of his shoulder and into his arms. I watched in horror as Sam stepped up to take my feet and Jackson took a sturdy hold of my arms.

"DON'T!" I screamed when they started to swing me back and forth between them. "I FU—"

Too late. I was thrown in to the pool at last, flying through the air for a second before making a huge splash a few feet from the edge of the water. Luckily, I took a huge gasp of breath before my body hit the surface, so I stayed underwater for a few seconds, composing myself before I popped back up for more air. When I did, I could hear all seven boys howling with laughter. I tread the water, glaring at each of them until their laughter died down.

Eventually, they all stopped laughing and stared at me. I watched as the grins slowly slipped from each one of their faces and realization of what they had just done hit them.

"Oh, shit," I heard Andrew say. A few seconds of dead silence followed. I swear, a piece of hay could have dropped and everyone would have heard it.

"You bitches better run," I said in a deadly voice. "Right. About. NOW." I swam to the wall and launched myself out of the pool, watching with glee as the group of boys scrambled. I don't think I'd ever seen them move so fast, not even on the soccer field. I stalked around the backyard as one by one, the boys ran around, finding hiding places. When they were all out of sight, I made my way to the back door we had come through and closed the door quietly, locking it behind me. I proceeded to lock both of the other doors leading from the boys' game room to the rest of the house, then went into the connecting bathroom – grabbing a pair of basketball shorts lying on the ground – and found myself a towel. I stripped to my tank top and panties, dried myself off as best I could, threw my hair into a bun and pulled the shorts on. I didn't know whose they were, but at that point, I didn't really care. I then grabbed another towel, exited the bathroom, spread it across the couch, and sat myself back down. Picking my homework back up off the ground, I grabbed more chips and promptly changed the channel from the returned football game to some chick flick on the Hallmark Channel. I didn't actually like that shit. I just knew it would hurt them the most.

A few seconds later, I heard a wail come from outside. I turned my head towards the glass door leading to the backyard and grinned at the sight before me. Grant, Jackson, Sam, Andrew, Cameron, Trent, and Matt all had their faces plastered to the door at different levels, staring at me with shock and despair all over their faces. I burst out laughing. I stood back up with the chip bowl and walked over to them. I took a single chip from the bowl and slowly brought it to my mouth, watching as every single one of their eyes followed it's journey from the plastic to my lips. I bit down on the chip with a satisfying crunch and laughed again at their faces before turning back towards the couch to finish my homework.

"Wait!" someone yelled after a few seconds. "You're not actually going to leave us out here, right?"

"Yep!" I called back happily, grinning at my homework.

"But the game!" someone else said. I couldn't tell who was saying what. Their voices were too muffled by the inch of glass between us.

"But I don't care!" I said, in my best sing-song voice.

"We're sorry!" another voice cried. "We'll never throw you in the pool again!"

"Yes, you will!" I said. I'd lost count of how many times I'd been tossed in the pool over the years.

"Ria, please!" someone else said, loudly. "How could you do this?"

"You shouldn't have thrown me in, and that's that," I shrugged, knowing they could see me.

"Are you wearing my shorts?" someone asked. "Those are my favorite shorts! You're getting them all wet!"

Still not looking at them, I raised my hand and flipped them the bird, triumphantly. Moans and groans came from outside. I heard them start to speak quietly, and a few pairs of feet start to move away from the door. A few minutes later, a jiggling started to come from one of the doors.

"Riaaaaaa!" That was Grant, coming from the door closest to the couch from inside the house. He must have gone around to the front door and come in that way. "C'mon, just let us in!"

"Nah," I yelled. "I'm gonna let you all suffer for a bit first."

"We've been tortured enough!" someone from the backyard yelled. "You're sitting on my couch, eating our chips, and not watching our game!" Ah. Since he said my couch … must have been Cameron.

"I bought these chips yesterday, jackass!" I said, finally turning to glare at him. Another long "RIAAAAAA" moan ensued from the group, much to my delight. I snickered, gleefully, writing down an equation on my homework.

"Sucks, bitches."

So, yeah. This was a typical day in the life of Alexandria Jane Franklin. Ria for short.

Although I'm not your "typical" seventeen year old girl. Most teenage girls have quite a few girlfriends, right? And a few "super close best girlfriends"?

Haha. Yep. Nope. Not me. All I had were the seven doofus best guy friends that had their faces plastered to the window. I honestly had zero girls that I could truly call my "friends." Sad, right? Wrong. I loved my life, and I loved my friends. They were awesome, albeit immature and perverted, but awesome nonetheless. My group was 0% drama and 100% love. Even though they wouldn't admit it. Damn dudes.

And before you ask, no, I'm not gay. So don't even go there. Yeah, I'm a tomboy, and I have no girlfriends, but I'm still straight. You have no idea how many people just assume that I'm a lesbian. Honest to God, I have nothing against them, it just gets irritating when no one even bothers to think that I'm straight simply because I have no girlfriends or sense of style.

But I digress.

I'd always had trouble making friends with girls ever since I was little. Guys had always been easier for me to deal with and hang around. I didn't really get how anyone could hang around a group of girls and stay sane. Truthfully, I didn't even bother to try anymore and I hadn't since elementary school. It just wasn't worth the headache.

My best friends were Grant, Jackson, Sam, Andrew, Cameron, Trent, and Matt, and we'd been friends since the third grade. Sure, they all had other friends, but this was the one true group. We were one big happy family and I hope it stayed that way.

And, again before you ask, no I haven't dated any of them. Not even close. None of them looked at me like that – they told me I scared them too much to like me romantically, anyway – and I didn't look at any of them like that. In fact, I'd never dated anyone. Or hooked up with anyone.

Okay, I'd never even been kissed before.

And I didn't really plan to. Not that I didn't want a boyfriend or anything, I just didn't think it was important right now. It was the beginning of my senior year, and I just needed to concentrate on school and college apps. At least, for this semester. But even then, I didn't think I would get a boyfriend. Who would like little ol' tomboy me, anyway?

Anyway, it wasn't like I didn't like any of the guys because they were bad looking. Quite the contrary, actually. They were all pretty hot, if I do say so myself. All seven were on our high school's varsity soccer team with Andrew as captain, so they were all in shape, too. Plus, our soccer team is pretty damn kickass since they're all majorly talented, so all seven guys were popular. I just couldn't bring myself to think about any of them in a romantic light. I'd known them for too long.

You have no clue how many times I've had girls come up to me asking me to hook them up with one of the guys, though. It was the most freaking irritating thing. I once hit a chick because she was so annoying about getting Trent to go out with her. She didn't leave me alone for three weeks! It was always "C'mon, Ria! You can get him to go out with me!" and then when she got frustrated, "YOU SLUT, YOU JUST WANT HIM FOR YOURSELF." So finally, I just got fed up with her and I knocked her in the nose with my fist. Oops.

Luckily, I didn't get in trouble, though, and I got a good story to tell the guys. They laughed for forever when I told them. I think they liked hearing all my stories about the girls more than the girls themselves if I'm being honest.

So, yep. This was my life. Dealing with a bunch of knuckleheads all day, everyday. And it was great.

Back to what was happening, though.

About twenty minutes went past before I heard creaking and clicking coming from the door that Grant called from earlier. I waited for the door to burst open, and was not disappointed. Within a few minutes, a loud crash came from the door. I glanced back to see all Grant, Cameron, and Trent all piled up on top of one another on the white, wooden, broken door, which was lying flat on the ground. The four others were standing behind them looking amused.

"Took you guys long enough," I said, laughing. "Thought you loved football more than that. That took nearly half an hour!"

"Shut your trap, Ria," Cameron groaned, picking himself up off the floor. He put his hand on Grant's head and pushed up. Grant's forehead hit the hard door with a loud thunk.

"Ow, God dammit!" Grant yelled, rubbing his forehead before he and Trent stood up together. "Asshole." Cameron didn't even look at him. He just glared at me.

"You made me break down my own door!" Cameron cried, staring down at the cracked wood at his feet. "My mom is gonna kill me!"

"Yes, she is," I laughed. "You could've picked the lock or something. Or taken the door knob off, probably."

"Or you could've just open the God damn door, jackass," he growled at me, stepping over it. I shrugged, nonchalantly.

"Guys, the game!" Jackson yelled, pushing through everyone to run to grab the remote from beside me. I just chuckled and watched as they all filed into the room again, leaving the door on the floor, abandoned. Jackson changed the channel back to the football game, and after a few minutes of complaining that they had missed some important play, the whole thrown in pool-locked out scuffle was forgotten.

I grinned. My friends were amazing.

Author's Note:

Thanks for reading the first chapter of my new story, One of the Guys! Please review and tell me what you thought so far! It'll give me so much more motivation to keep writing!



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