AN: Well, that was fast... But I'm way behind on this, so... ^^;

POV note: first person's 2nd period, then 3rd, then second person's 2nd period, then 3rd


The only good thing about having math 2nd period, I thought, sitting at the back of Ms. Warwick's room and ignoring the late bell, is that I can get it over with. I thought a moment. Well, that and…

"Hey, boo," Emily said, slinging her bag over the back of the chair next to me and flipping her hair over her shoulder before sitting.

I smiled at her. "Hey, Em." I leaned over and pecked her on the lips, grateful that there wasn't a teacher there, since all but one of mine last year where ridiculously strict. We'd been together since 7th grade. Contrary to popular belief, we weren't together because I was linebacker and she was a Cheerio. We actually had feelings for one another.

She smiled. "Hey, you had first with Mar, right?"

I nodded, wondering why she was asking.

"Did she seem alright to you?" she asked, nonchalantly taking out a compact and fixing her usual hot pink lipstick.

"Yeah, why?" I asked, now a bit concerned. The last time she'd asked me anything like that was…

"She just seemed a little tense," she quickly assured me. "It's fine."

"Okay," I muttered, trying not to sound as worried as I was. Whenever she said something like that it made me nervous. I knew she was more even worried about her having a relapse than I was, but she hid it better than I did.

"If something's wrong, I'll tell you," she promised, smiling a bit and taking my hand, making me smile a bit back. However, before I could say anything, the door opened.

A woman walked in, books clutched to her chest. Her makeup was a bit too heavy and she was standing ridiculously straight. She was wearing a brown, tailored jacket that was buttoned all the way up, a gray pencil skirt, thick-framed glasses, and 4-inch brown heels. Her chestnut hair was up in a bun and she looked to be in her early to mid-30s, but something told me she was younger. I sighed quietly, dropping Emily's hand before the woman could see it and yell at us.

She dropped her books on her desk with a loud thump, walked up to the board, and wrote her name in bright blue marker. "My name," she said, underlining it, "is Ms. Warwick. And I…" She turned to face the class, kicked off her shoes, tore the tie out of her hair, and threw her glasses to the ground. She quickly unbuttoned her jacket, revealing a hot pink, low-cut tank top and ripped off her skirt to show a black miniskirt.

"And I am the sexiest math teacher ever!" she yelled, fist pumping. She ran over to her desk and planted her foot on the edge, showing her underwear. She grabbed a plate and set it on her knee. "Who wants a cookie?"

I let out a catcall, breaking the silence that had enveloped the rest of the room. The other students snapped out of it and did the same and Emily punched my arm.

"Ow! Hey!" I complained, rubbing the spot.

"Not allowed," she half-chastised, flipping her hair back over her shoulder.

I smirked a bit. "Sorry, didn't mean to make you jealous."

She glared at me and held up her hand, which was curled like a claw to show her ridiculously sharp nails.

I paled a bit, knowing how much those hurt. "I apologize."

She smirked. "That's better," she said, lowering it.

I frowned and stuck my tongue out at her, proving just how mature I am and, miraculously, making her laugh.

We walked to language arts together, still laughing at Ms. Warwick. There had definitely been more stripping than math.

"Oy, and people call me a slut," she muttered, slipping into a desk.

"Oh, come on," I said, sitting next to her. "It's not that bad."

She raised an eyebrow. "Need I remind you of the lipstick incident?"

"No," I said quickly. "No, you don't." I looked around the room. "Um, why are there butterflies painted on the walls?"

She looked. "And why are they pink? You sure we're in the right room?"

"You are," a voice nearly deadpanned from the front of the room. I looked up to see a tired-looking woman in her early 20s with short, hot pink hair pinned back with a white rose. She was wearing a Minnie Mouse dress and sitting at the teacher's desk, sipping out of a Disney mug and reading a book with a brown-haired girl with fox ears and a tail standing in a field on the cover.

She yawned loudly and stood up, placing her mug and book on the desk. "Welcome to language arts. I don't know what grade you're in and I don't care. My name is Ms. Knight, but feel free to call me Flower. Please talk among yourselves, but not too loudly because I wanna finish this book." She plopped back down into her chair, took another sip of her coffee, picked up her book, and propped her feet up on the desk.

"Weren't all the teachers last year yelling at us all the time?" Em asked quietly, eyebrow raised. "What happened to them?"

I shrugged. "Well, this isn't exactly a bad change."

She nodded, thinking. "Very true."


I walked through the hallway, shaking my head to try to clear it of the logarithms it had already been filled with. My math teacher was insane, and not in a good way.

I glanced down at my schedule to double check before stepping into the room I'd wound up in front of. AP human geography with Ms. Cahill.

The woman at the desk looked up, bored. "Name?" she asked in a low monotone, adjusting her ponytail as I walked up to her. She looked like she was in her mid-thirties and was pale with brown hair, dark eyes, and freckles. She was wearing large, white, studded earrings, thick, black-framed glasses, a gold cross, jeans, worn out white tennis shoes, and a black maternity shirt.

"McKynleigh Abraham," I said, adjusting the strap of my backpack.

She looked over at her computer, clicked something, and pointed to a desk near the back. "Just go sit over there."

I nodded, walked back, slung my backpack over the chair, and sat. I dug my book out and debated whether or not to prop my feet on the desk before deciding that I'd been hanging around my brother too much and that would definitely not be a good idea. Instead I opened it to my page, kept it open with my right hand, and leaned my chin on my left.

I checked in with Ms. Callender, I read, who sent me up to work in the Main Exam Room. To my surprise I saw Jaya there, pacing back and forth under the west Tiffany–


I looked up, wondering who had walked in.

"Robert Mitchell," the boy up front said, brushing his messy, dirty blonde hair out of his eyes. He was wearing a red and brown camp shirt, red low tops, skinny jeans, a silver cross, and ridiculously thick glasses. "But I go by Cameron."

Ms. Cahill clicked something and gestured in my general direction. "Go sit next to the girl with the beige scarf."

I glanced down as he walked over. Yep, that was me.

"Hey," he said as he sat.

I nodded. "Hey. I'm McKynleigh. And, no, that's not a joke," I added when he raised an eyebrow.

He smiled. "Cool name. I'm Cameron."

"I know," I said, amused.

"What?" he asked, confused.

I laughed at his expression, realizing how weird that sounded. "I mean I heard you when you were up there."

"Oh," he said, seeming to understand.

I scoffed before looking down and thinking of something. "Hey, you ever read this?" I asked, holding up my book.

He looked at it. "The Grimm Legacy? Yeah, it was good. I love how Aaron–" He cut himself off by putting his hand in front of his mouth, obviously covering a spoiler. "Uh, never mind." He dug around in his backpack, ignoring the fact that I was laughing. "Ever read Mockingjay?" he asked, holding up a stain, blue-covered hardback.

I beamed. "God, yes! I love Suzanne Collins! But I hate how Prim–" I cut myself off by covering my mouth with my hands only to burst out laughing a couple of seconds later. "Oh, I have a feeling we're gonna be good friends."

He nodded, chuckling. "Me, too."

I groaned quietly, walking into the gym. Last period had been pretty awesome, if I did say so myself. Ms. Cahill seemed cool, if overly sarcastic, but I knew how to deal with that by now. My conversation with Cameron had gone from books to school to guitars, which in turn led to Glee Club and the ridiculousness of the social ladder. Apparently he was thinking of joining. But now I had gym, which was a completely different story. I knew I wasn't fat, but I wasn't exactly the fittest person, either.

I walked over to the collapsed bleachers and sat near the middle, a safe spot in my mind. There were barely any people there yet, anyway. I was good at finding my way around.

I slipped my bag off, dug through the smallest pocket, found my iPod, put my earbuds in, found a song, and hit play.

"Last night I got served a little bit too much of that poison, baby," I quietly sang along, taking out my book.
"Last night I did things I'm not proud of and I got a little crazy
Last night I met a guy on the dance floor and I let him call me–

"Oh, I love that song!"

I looked up to see a girl smiling down at me, eyes bright. She was cute, in a young-looking way. She was Hispanic, a bit chubbier than me, and on the short side. The way she was dressed made her stand out, but my attention was automatically drawn to the tattoo next to her eye.

I smiled at her, stopping the track and taking the buds out. "Me, too. Wanna sit?" I shook my head quickly as she beamed and complied, trying to remind myself that she was my age, not as young as she looked. I, of all people, should realize that by now.

"I'm Jewels," she introduced herself. "Well, that's what people call me, at least." She nervously scratched the back of her neck, smiling meekly.

"I'm McKynleigh," I said, quietly laughing at her expression.

She immediately brightened. "Like the school? Cool!"

Before I could say anything, another girl walked over. She was overweight – more so than Jewels – and, from this angle, looked almost as tall as me. She was wearing a salmon colored shirt with ruffles on the front and had a black headband pinning her orange hair away from her freckle-covered face.

"Hey, mind if I sit here?" she asked, smiling.

Jewels shook her head, smiling back as I said, "Go ahead."

"Thanks!" the redhead said before plopping down and crossing her legs Indian-style. "Cool necklace," she said, pointing at the string of gems Jewels had on a chain.

The younger-looking girl beamed. "Thanks. I always wear it. I'm Jewels."

"I'm McKynleigh," I added.

"Hannah," the redhead introduced herself.

Jewels turned back to me. "So, you like to sing?"

I nodded, smiling. "Yeah, ever since I was a little kid. I've actually won a couple of competitions."

"Have you thought about joining Glee Club?" she asked.

I shrugged. "A little," I admitted. "But I don't think it's worth it. The ridicule, I mean."

"I might be joining," Hannah piped up.

"You sing?" I asked, surprised. Not many people would actually admit that.

She nodded. "Wanna hear something?"

I nodded as Jewels let out an almost over enthusiastic, "Yeah!"

Hannah smiled before taking a deep breath and closing her eyes, suddenly looking serious.

"I heard that you're settled down
That you found a girl and you're married now
I heard that your dreams came true
Guess she gave you things I didn't give to you

She stopped there, opening her eyes and smiling again. "See? I got talent!" She flipped her hair over her shoulder, obviously joking.

"That you do!" I said, impressed.

"Wow!" Jewels said, beaming again.

"I rap, too!" Hannah said brightly. "They call me MC Hannah." She winked, then looked just a little bit more serious. "I'm really thinking about joining. I know it'll be hard, socially, but, I mean, look at me." She gestured up and down.

"But you're pretty," Jewels said, confused, before shaking her head, something changing in her eyes. "But I get what you mean. If I didn't know one of the teachers, I'd be slushied for being 'goth'."

I nodded. "Even us freshmen know this school's stupid. Completely full of idiots."

The other two nodded before Jewels turned to Hannah and asked, "Can we hear a rap?"

Hannah smiled and nodded, but I was too lost in my own thoughts to hear her start. I still wasn't sure if I wanted to join or not. It really did sound fun, but… I snapped myself out of it and focused on Hannah. She was good.

"While it's rollin', hold on
Pump a little bit and let 'em know it's goin' on
Like that

I smiled as she kept going. Maybe I would join. After all, these two were going to. And possibly Cameron.

Now if only I could convince her

AN: Teachers: Yeah, so Ms. Warwick and Flower are based on my friends... Actually, Flower's based on my best friend... ^^; And Ms. Cahill is my legit AP human teacher.

Ships: I enjoy Bremily. It will actually be the only steady couple in this. You'll see what I mean soon enough. And Emily's hand thing is actually a reference to Lunar High. ^^

Books: Flower's reading Spice & Wolf volume 1. And both The Grimm Legacy and Mockingjay are pretty fucking awesome.

Hannah's song: I'm trying to only use songs I've heard each character sing for this first part, because I'm not allowing myself to use them later on. However, the only solo Hannah ever did was Back to December. And in an interview she said that the song she'd want to perform most on Glee was Someone Like You, so...

OCs: I'm still accepting backstory ideas! ^^