Chapter Six

It was nearly nine by the time I got back to Aunt Elle's house. She was up and sitting at a table in the kitchen, typing on her laptop, her glasses perched on her nose. She looked up at me. "Kaitlyn. Well come back," she said, a small smile on her face.

Oh no. Not that smile!

I instantly got onto my knees and started grovelling. "IT'S NOT MY FAULTTT! ASK THE PEOPLE WHO KIDNAPPED ME!! THEY DID IT!!"

Yes. I have learned that dragging out your words in an attempt to whine your way out of an unfavorable situation never works, but at this point, none of that really matters, does it?

"What? I mean, come over here," Aunt Elle gestured over to the empty chair beside her, "I want to show you something,"

I shakily complied. I mean, if I don't, I swear, she's gonna throw me out. She's very very very deadly when she's pissed off. Once, when she visited us in Boston, she made this cab driver so scared 'till he ran off crying, not bothering to take his car with him, because he was thirty minutes late picking her up from the airport.

Anyways. Back to my execution.

I pulled the chair and placed it as far as possible from Aunt Elle. She looked up at me and pointed at her laptop screen. "Do you know who that is?"

I sat down, looking at her quizzically. "What's up?"

Aunt Elle gestured at her laptop, and my eyeballs nearly popped out and rolled onto the floor when I saw what she wanted me to look at.

MYSTERIOUS GIRL IN CAT MASK

Today, the hottest event of the normally chilly September month went even more fiery as the ever-popular and home-grown Lightning Devils made an appearance on stage as contenders of the Amateur Rock Bands Contest. They are said to be among the ranks of the world's most prominent bands of the now.


The familiar faces of the five fresh-faced teenagers of the exclusive Sandfields Academy were there of course; every single adoring female fan screaming and fainting at the sight of them. But as the last person to come on stage, the lead singer, guitarist and leader of the band, Jayden Stanford greeted the ecstatic crowd, no one expected the seventeen-year-old to make a shocking announcement.


"Today, we have a new addition!" screamed Jayden, "Please welcome the Lightning Kitty!"


A young lady, possibly a teenager, came out from the back of the stage, wearing a tacky yet mysterious black cat eye mask with the band's logo on it; a lightning bolt.


Some were outraged with the new addition, who could possibly ruin the band's popularity, but some were curious. As the band started their rendition of Brick by Boring Brick by Paramore though, everyone was blown away. The cat-girl had amazing stage presence, and her voice was breathtaking. The whole crowd fell in love with her voice and mysterious charm. Which brings up the current most popular question on the local and cyber news right now: Who exactly is the Lightning Kitty?


Whoa. I never expected that kind of thing. I mean, I guess the crowd did love me, but I never expected to be the internet's most hottest topic of the now.

I nearly had a nervous breakdown in the middle of the song, but I had simply shut my eyes and continued singing. The band's playing was so loud, that I couldn't hear the crowd. Jay had sung along with me, in a duet. I never expected a megalomaniac like him to have such an awesome voice. It was a surreal moment, when our voices harmonized and molded together, producing a sweet-sounding melody.

Please don't tell him I said that.

So, in conclusion, I am NOT telling any of those newshounds that I'm the Lightning Kitty. Or whatever crappy name they came up with, thanks to Jay's ingenius-not idea of giving me a cat mask.

"Kaitlyn, I know that's you," Aunt Elle looked at me. "I've known you since you were a baby. You can sing,"

O-kay. Time to lie. BIG TIME. I don't care if my teeth fall out or whether snakes will crawl out of my throat from the pits of my stomach. Those options are better than being shown to the pits of Hell by my aunt.

"What? Of course not! I don't hang out with guys like..." I glanced at the picture of my band-mates for emphasis, "…them."

Okay! Cue the innocent smile!

I smiled innocently at my aunt, who just looked at me with a disbelieving look. "Kaitlyn, next time you try to lie, maybe try changing your clothes first?"

Oops. I forgot about those.

Darn it.

This is a time where I should start to resent Chace again, fashion genius or not.

"Er...you're not gonna kill me, are you?" I asked her tentatively. "If you want, I'll resign. Leave. Storm out. Whatever term they use for singers who quit."

Aunt Elle just stared at me for a while, before breaking into a wide grin and throwing her arms around me. "Oh Katy!! You're singing again!" she exclaimed. She sounded like she was literally choking on her emotions.

I'd say menopause, but it's highly unlikely for a woman her age.

Well, I hope she doesn't choke and die. I don't want to disrupt my parents' vacays, nor do I want to end up with some stuffy ol' uncle, who lives in a creepy old manor in the middle of nowhere and has eldritch hobbies that involve tarantulas and pythons, that I have never known about until my parents tell me.

I laughed nervously. "I don't really wanna talk about what happened a few years ago, so yeah..." I mumbled, "I only wore that mask because I still have this thing for performing in front of big crowds. I promised Jay that I'd try, so I did,"

I heard sniffling. Oh god. I don't want to end up all night comforting emotional women when I'm supposed to be doing my homework!

"Aunt Elle! Don't cry! It's no big deal, really!" I thrust a box of Kleenex towards her; a lame attempt at comforting. I'm no good at these kind of things.

Aunt Elle took the box and noisily blew her nose into a tissue. "It's just that, I missed hearing your voice ever since-,"

"Remember what I said? I don't really want to talk about it," I cut her off, "Well, I gotta go now, I have lots of HW to do,"

I quickly stood up from the chair and ran upstairs, leaving my aunt to cry alone with the companionship of her Dell laptop.

Yes, I'm a heartless niece. I know.

I tiptoed past Genevieve's room, the soft thudding of my boots barely audible. I do not need to deal with annoying thirteen-year-old brats right now. I was definitely ready to plotz after a long day.

There's my door! Nearly there...

"Kaitlyn!" a sharp and commanding, yet squeaky voice said.

No plotzing now. Boo hoo.

"Yes, brat?" I asked pleasantly, turning around to face the newly teenaged menace, also known as Genevieve I am Princess Barbie in the Flesh Except Without the Blonde Hair Hunter.

"Where were you? You were supposed to wait for me after school!" she demanded angrily, eyes flashing angrily.

Genevieve looks a little like me, except that her eyes are a shade lighter than mine, and while her hair mirrors my auburn locks, it's longer. She's a little on the short side, despite the fact that she's a dancer and she's currently trying to pontificate all her sentences, because 'that's what madame says I should do in order to be the best ballerina there is'.

Oh. I should mention that she's one of those rare people who actually pick up ballet as a childhood activity and intends to go pro when she's older.

I shrugged at her accusation. "If I remembered correctly, you didn't say anything. You were too busy primping and preening yourself in front of the mirror before school when I left," I said with a matter-of-fact tone, "And I'm seventeen. I have friends to hang out with,"

Genevieve rolled her eyes like the Barbie brat she is. "Whatev."

Whatev? I wonder which senior bimbo did she pick that up from?

"You can't have friends." she reasoned, "Because it's the first day of school for you, plus, no one wants to be friends with people who dye their hair in absurd colours and wear high-tops instead of the issued pair of shoes,"

I don't like her. I really don't. I want to strangle that neck of hers now.

"F-Y-I, I can dress anyhow I like, and good news!: I have friends already. Six of them," I stood up straighter to tower over her. She has the Napoleon Complex, you know. Very sensitive. "And now, if you could excuse me from your grandiloquence on how absurdly weird I am, I will be retreating to my chambers for now to do my homework, Your Royal Pain-in-the-ass,"

I snuck into my room as I heard Genevieve whine to my aunt. "AUNT ELLEEE!!! KAITLYN INSULTED MEEEEE!"

I did manage to finish everything before midnight, but I had to run to school in order to not be late again. Genevieve purposely forgot to wake me up, and I'm so going to get back at her tomorrow when it's my turn. I was busy looking through my bag for my schedule for the first period after homeroom as I ran, when I crashed into an unidentified object. Or rather, an unidentified person, who groaned as we collided onto the concrete pavement.

I found myself on top of none other than...

Jay? Nope, not today, thank God.

It was better, but still bad.

Wanna know?

You seriously want to?

Okay, so the person who is currently probably suffocating under my weight is Leon Alexander, or as I like to call him, Leo the Playboy.

"Kaitlyn?" Leo asked, a pained tone in his voice, "I'd love to stay like this all day, but it's not exactly a good time for me right now,"

I can't believe it. God hates me. Yesterday, it was Jay's guitar. Today, it's Leo himself. Who next? Jordan?

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" I apologized frantically as I jumped up from Leo.

Leo stood up, dusting his blazer jacket, and took my hand in his. "Well, it's no problem, my dear," he said flirtatiously, "After all, I'd say that the heavens have blessed me to have such an encounter with you," He kissed my hand.

Oh. My. Effin'. God.

My cheeks heated up as Leo's lips lingered on my hand as he looked up at me with a questioning look. I hastily drew back my hand and told myself to calm down.

It didn't work, though.

I screamed. Again.

I don't get it. I should be used to having Leo do this to me, since he's done countless of flirting tactics on me since yesterday morning till I had to go home. And not only me, too, he was on full-womanize mode after our set last night, but of course, every single female excluding me lapped up his attention readily.

I think I'm gonna start developing an obsessive compulsive disorder if Leo doesn't stop contaminating parts of me with his lips or hands. I took out my hand sanitizer and started rubbing my hands with it like a psycho.

"Oh? Sanitizing your fair hands?" Leo asked, a lazy grin stretched on his godly face. He loped easily alongside me as I scurried to school.

I made an impatient noise. "My hands are not fair. They're tan. I happened to get a nice one at the beach last summer,"

Goddammit. I just said the wrong thing.

"Fair as in beautiful, but the beach?" Leo queried, "I should've gone to a beach near Boston then. I might've had a chance to see more of your fair virgin skin,"

Ew ew ew. He is SO perverted.

"Don't you think of anything other than girls?" I complained as we passed through the iron-wrought gates of the school. I'm beginning to think that boys really do think with their you-know and not their brains.

Leo tilted his head as he seemed to contemplate the question. "Hmm...I do think of my future sometimes, and maybe those who are important to me,"

We stopped in front of the doors. "You mean the other guys?"

"Of course," Leo winked as he pushed the doors open, "And of course, 'specially you, my love,"

"Can it, Romeo," I growled as I pushed the doors open, scowling.

"Hey, kitty!"

Oh, not another one. Jay's words last night had repeated over and over again in my mind, as if someone had put it on loop. It was rather surprising, because it was very unexpected to hear something like that from him.

"What do you want, Jay?" I asked, annoyed as I started walking towards my homeroom class. I swear, I could feel all eyeballs rolling towards the both of us.

Jay caught up with me, smiling smugly as he dangerously twirled his PDA with his left hand with easy expertise. "Did ya check the Internet news today?"

"Jay, I saw it yesterday,"

Jay chuckled. "Whoa. You must be really good then, right, kitty?"

I shrugged carelessly. "I was halfway towards a panic attack. If it weren't for the stupid mask you gave me, I would've fainted a few bars into the song," I confessed grudgingly, "So thanks,"

"What's that?" Jay asked, pretending to be deaf to my gratitude. "Could you repeat that again? I'm afraid that amplifiers turned up to loud volumes have taken a toll on my eardrums,"

"I said, THANK YOU for HELPING ME," I said slowly and deliberately loudly, causing more people to stare at us. A number of pairs of eyes narrowed suspiciously; some widened in unadulterated glee. I could see some hunched over their phones, probably spinning tales of untruth extrapolated from my words to Jay.

Why do I feel like I'm on the set of Gossip Girl?

Jay tossed his head back in obvious pride. "Well, I guess I was pretty clever if you say so,"

Well he's a modest one. "Hey, kitty, follow me to the music department for a while, will you? I'd like to put our names in for the band to play at the Winter Dance,"

"Names as in our names or the band?"

"Band, of course. We don't want to expose you, now would we?" he winked at me.

Yeah. Sure. Like that cryptic wink is going to be any form of reassurance.

We went through two huge glass doors, and a light strain of classical music was playing over in the piped speakers. (Elevator music, anyone?) Two ladies were seated behind a desk, and an oddly familiar blond guy with his back turned onto us stood in front of the desk, and as we got closer, he seemed to be flirting with them, because both their faces had a vibrant shade of red.

I have a dark sense of foreboding here.

One of the secretaries happened to look up and see the both of us. She hastened to push her glasses up the bridge of her nose and adapted an expression of professionalism. "How may I help the both of you?" she asked coolly.

Instead of replying, Jay turned to the blond guy. "Hey, Leo! Where are the others?" he asked, lightly punching Leo's shoulder in a greeting.

Leo turned to us, a suavely sadistic smile on his face. Should I shudder or swoon? "I told them to go ahead, of course. The two of us can handle the submission-," he turned to the other secretary, "-right, Ms. Reynolds? By the way, have I mentioned how that dress perfectly comments the colour of your eyes?"

Ms. Reynolds blushed and giggled girlishly while she nodded. Ugh. Hormonal seventeen-year-olds are dangerous, I tell you. Especially ones with foreign accents and cocky smirks that can turn your knees to jelly and elevate your heart rate.

The other secretary, Ms. Smith, as her nameplate said, kept casting glances over at Leo while she talked to us. I don't mean to sound rude, but I wonder if she's a pedophile? Should I ask her? "Jayden Stanford, right? And what's your name?" she turned to me.

"Hunter," I grinned, "Kaitlyn Hunter," I felt rather classy and cool. I've always wanted to do that. You know, like, 'Bond. James Bond.'

Only I don't do something as cool as question terrorists, flipping cards in a casino to the tune of six million dollars, or have hot babes fluttering all around me, but details, details.

Besides, I have got to be thankful for the last one. Nobody except Bond girls make you feel inferior to their godly species. I simply refuse to accept that there are women out there who look good, have a brain, and get to handle all the coolest weapons in the world adeptly while still looking like a billion dollars. Where is the justice? I want to learn how to handle weapons too! They would sure come in useful in the presence of certain rock band members.
Hint Jay. Hint Leo.

"Next you'll be saying your codename's 007," Jay commented.

Hey. He actually got my reference to James Bond! No one's done that before. That's odd.

"I was playing around with the numbers 007.5. You know, like a newly improved version of 007,"

Ms. Smith cleared the throat. Oops. "The head of department will see you shortly after his meeting with-,"
"Lucifer," a cold voice finished.

A meeting with Disney's Cinderella's evil stepmother's cat? The fat and oddly green-furred one? The Disney's Cheshire Cat's evil, but no less diabolical, fraternal twin? Or maybe they were from the same litter. Who knows?

I watched Jay's face turn black in a matter of few seconds. That's strange. What's the connection between a cartoon cat and an amateur rock band leader?

"Stryker," he spat out at the person who had finished Ms. Smith's words.

I looked up from Jay to see this uber tall dude with a line of steel piercings in his left ear and short, spiky blond hair. A shiver ran up my spine as I noticed a tiny skull tattoo on his exposed collarbone. That's creepy.

The guy seemed to notice me, because he turned his eyes away from Jay and pierced directly into mine. His eyes were a steely gray, matched with the studs in his ear. "So. You're the new girl who's been hanging with the Lightning Babies, huh?"

The Lightning Babies? Once upon a time, I would've laughed along with the scary punk dude, but now I'm part of them, and they're not so bad once you get to know them over free sushi. They're a friendly bunch, if not psychotic.

"It's the Lightning Devils," I corrected, ignoring the wobbly feeling in my knees. You know Sephiroth from Final Fantasy Seven? I had a hard time playing against him because he was had this scary - albeit not real, but details don't matter - presence which stemmed from my television and dominated the entire room.

Goth-Boy gives off the same vibes as the one-winged angel. No shit.

"Oopsie," the goth said, grinning maliciously, "So, what's your name? You must know me of course, I'm the real up-and-coming artist around here. It's Dash Stryker,"

The real up-and-coming artist? Wait. I thought that was the Lightning Devils.

"Kaitlyn Hunter," I said boldly. I tell you, it ain't easy to stand up to a guy who towers eight inches above you while he looks so freaking scary. Wasn't playing to defeat Sephiroth supposed to be image training for potential real-life villains?

"I must ask you this, what is a girl like you doing hanging out with a bunch of sissies?" Dash asked, ignoring Jay's glowering presence, "Because the sorry excuse of a band isn't much of a band. It's more like America's Next Top Male Model, if you ask me,"

"I just happen to be friends with their new manager,"

He narrowed his cold eyes. "You don't happen to be the Lightning Kitty girl, do you?"

I was caught off-guard as he said it. I never expected him to know about the Lightning Kitty, since he hates the Devils so much, but I guess I never expected to be the most Googled of the now either.

"O-of course not, do I look like I can sing?" I waved a hand in front of me. I'm not really sure how the way I look will prove my point, but the wave of the vague hand thing always works, right? "If you're thinking about the way Stanford calls me kitty, I'll have you know that he probably calls everyone kitty,"

Dash pointed over at Jay, who had gone to the head's office. Traitor. "Does that guy look like he can lead a band?"

Dude has a point. Jay doesn't look like a leader of a band, much less a leader of a group of chipmunks. He looks more like a guy who has a harem of girls clinging onto his legs twenty-four-seven, and possibly, the hormonally-imbalanced people as well. Look what effect Leo had on Chace. But Leo's hotter than Jay is in the looks department, as well as the flirting department. But maybe some girls prefer the bad-boy American mojo rather than good ol' British suaveness.

I digress. The attractiveness of Jay and Leo, of all things. I'm so ashamed with myself.

"Never mind your answer," Dash said, sounding impatient as he leaned towards me, "I'm curious, though. What do you mean to that guy if he's with you nearly every time a fellow student sees the two of you? I'll have you know that Sandfields Academy is home to a rather big nest of gossips."

Dash did the exact same thing that Leo did to me when he first introduced himself to me, but this time, I felt more paralyzed-scared rather than paralyzed-surprised. He trailed his cold fingers down the side of my face, and I noticed that his nails were painted black, like the rest of his clothes. Everything he wore was black, through and through. He was dressed to the style of visual-punk-goth-emo-*insert colourful music genre here* theme.

He was so close to me, I could feel his breath on my face. I wasn't even remotely attracted to him, even though that he was just about as good-looking as Jay, but maybe it was his eldritchness and clothes that chilled the hotness factor down to level sub-zero. Despite that fact, my heart was still racing, faster than the normal speed.

I may have to start considering my Christianity and turn into an Atheist. God doesn't love me at all.

Chapter Five

References: There are mentions of Vouge magazine, Paramore, Brick by Boring Brick and Taylor Swift.

--------------------

My head pounded painfully as my body willed itself into consciousness. I didn't feel like waking up, though, as I felt the cool and clean-smelling sheets underneath me.

Wait. My room doesn't smell like this. It smells of fresh paint.

My reverie quickly went away as my eyes flew open in comprehension of my surroundings. My ears detected a conversation not too far away from where I was situated, and I could feel panic rising within me.

Great, my second panic attack of the day. I roughly estimate that my life has been shortened by about twenty years now.

My slowly rising panic abated, however, as I remembered with a sudden flash what happened before I ended up here. I had been with the Lightning Devils, and my new friend, Gabriel, and Jay had provoked me into singing.
I don't remember much after that.

I picked up the conversation, which was becoming clearer and sounded a lot closer by the second, followed by a light clicking of heels and a lot of feet-shuffling.

"So, you're saying Jayden and Leon pulled her off somewhere without letting her eat anything?" a lilting female voice asked.

"Yes, miss. They were desperate," a familiar male voice confirmed, "So is that why she fainted? I mean, because she didn't eat any lunch?"

Waitaminit. I fainted? Is that it?

I heard what seemed like a cross between a chuckle and a snicker, before another voice said, "I thought she fainted because of me. I must say, this is the first time that a girl has fainted when I'm not performing,"

That voice sounded familiar. It somewhat awakened my senses of irritation and tiredness.

"Don't get too full of yourself, Jay," a British-accented voice said, "You know it's your fault for stealing that muffin Gabriel gave her,"

Stealing that muffin? Now that I think about it, the reason as to why I blacked out is kind of embarrassing. A muffin, imagine that. Is this how far I've degraded myself?

I sat up from the bed, pain hitting me in multiple directions. I winced as I rubbed the bruised areas on my arms and head.

Note to self: Never have fainting fits ever again. They're inconvenient and painful.

"Hey!! Look who's woken from her cat-nap!" Jay exclaimed delightedly. Another lame pun?

Hardeharhar. He is so funny.

"I would kindly remind you to refer to me as Kaitlyn," I said as the Devils and Gabriel – Hah. Now that's funny. Devils? Gabriel the angel? Geddit? Shoot, now his lameness is rubbing off on me. - led inside, a pretty young woman with red hair following them.

The woman came up to me and prodded my head gently. "Where does it hurt?" she asked, "Do you need any aspirins for a headache?"

I managed a wan smile at the woman as I scanned the name tag on the pocket of her white coat. Evie Summers, School Nurse.


"If I had an aspirin for every headache I had today, I would've OD-ed by now,"

Ms. Summers laughed as she helped me stand up from the bed. My legs wobbled, and before I could fall again, Jay caught me with his arms.

I must say, we ended up in a very awkward position.

No, not that kind of position, you pervs.

Jay and I ended up in a position where you would think that two people who love each other very much are hugging. In other words, an embrace. I shudder to think of that.

God, what did I ever do wrong to make you do this to me? Was it the time when I once painted every single leaf of my mom's apple tree with blue paint? I just thought it would attract fairies. I was six, okay?

Or was it the time when I accidentally kicked a senior where it hurts the most? It was partly his fault! I was substitute cheering when he thought he'd come over to flirt with the senior girls even though he perfectly knew well that we were still doing our routine!

I'm not going to lie. Jay doesn't smell like sweat or dirt or whatever guys are supposed to smell like. He just smells like faint cologne. Well, that's a surprise. I pegged him for the type who hate men toiletries, despite his obvious vanity and big-headedness.

It was only very much later when I realized that I had been in Jay's arms for more than I should've been. I quickly withdrew, and Jay's face had the hugest smirk I have ever seen in my whole life. Then, under no intention, I let out a piercing scream.

"PERRRRRVEEEEEEERTT!!!"

Jay backtracked a little, as my voice went a few decibels higher than a normal pair of ears could withstand. And I thought he was a rock star in the making.

"Save that for later, would you?" Tyson complained.

"Kaitlyn," Ms. Summers said, a firm tone in her voice, "Please refrain from overexerting yourself again."

"Well, Ms. Summers," Leo added in conversationally, "If you would be so kind as to sign permission slips for us and excuse us for the rest of the school day to bring Kaitlyn out for a lunch and bring her home to rest?"

Ms. Summers seemed to be considering it. Please say no say no say no say no...

"Well, as long as you pay for it, Leon, and Jayden too. Both of you are at fault here," Ms. Summers went into her office to get slips for the seven of us.

I SAID SAY NO DAMNIT!

"Ms. Summers!! I don't wanna go home!! I can just eat after school!!" I called after the nurse hastily.

"Hey, just leave it, will you?" Jordan asked, blocking the way to her office, "You can skip for today's remaining lessons plus get a free meal,"

Well, he is right.

I glared at Jay, hate emitting out of me in great auras. Jay caught my look. "What? You seemed pretty comfortable," he pointed out, "And a lot of girls would've killed to be in your shoes,"

"Well, as I said before, I am not one of those girls," I reminded him, my patience fraying, "And I absolutely did not enjoy it. I would rather go hug a statue of Barney,"

Jay wore an injured look. "Kitty, how could you say that to a person who-,"

"Made me late for school? Put me in the teacher's black list? Stalked and eavesdropped on me? Stole my lunch then dragged me off somewhere?" I cut him off, "Now that I think about it, you owe me more than a free meal and no lessons for the day, buddy, but I'll take it,"

Gabriel chuckled as he took my arm. "C'mon, Kaitlyn. We'll go get our bags," he urged.

"Oh no you don't," Jay took my other arm.

I am feeling a serious sense of déjà vu here.

I shook off their hands. "I am not a toy to be tug-of-war-ed. I'll go alone,"

Jay sulked as he gave Gabriel a dirty look. "Why are you here anyway? You're not even a part of the band,"
Gabriel smiled enigmatically, his eyes sweeping briefly over to Lance, who was, as usual, reading a book. That's odd. The brief look, I mean, not the reading.

"Kaitlyn's my friend, and I do have to right to follow her," he looked over at me, "If you're fine with it," he added.
Fine? It's more than fine. Anything to keep me away from Jayden Stanford.

"No, it's fine. Just let me go get my own bag,"

I got the permission slip from Ms. Summers, then proceeded to get my backpack from my locker. It turns out that the Devils all have their lockers next to each others. I suspect that either Leo seduced the female admins to do it, or Jay must've snuck into the office and rigged the arrangements.

"So, where are we going?" I asked conversationally as we walked towards the car park.

Leo fished inside his pockets and retrieved a set of keys. "How does sushi sound?" he asked, as he pointed towards a row of cars and pressed the button thingy that people use to unlock and lock their cars from a distance.
I'm not really educated in the field of cars, if you must know.

"Um… sushi's fine," I mumbled, staring at all the cars in the lot, every single vehicle looked brand-new and high-class. "Wow."

"Nice," Gabriel commented with admiration as Leo stopped to open the passenger door of the jet-black van.
"Thank you, Gabriel," Leo looked at me, "Ladies first,"

I shook my head defiantly. "Only now you show me some basic chivalry," I said dryly, "But if I'm sitting anywhere with you guys, I'm sitting right next to either Gabriel or Lance,"

Jay stifled his laughter as he invited himself into the passenger seat that Leo had offered me while Leo himself looked at me injuredly. The other members of the Lightning Devils piled inside the spacious vehicle after I went inside, and I started squealing in excitement, as I assessed the interior.

"Are you English royalty or something?" I asked, looking at the plush seats. My eyes nearly bugged out at the sight of a mini flat-screen that Jordan had pulled out from the roof's interior, "Because only people who are ridiculously rich can afford a van like this. I thought only celebrities had these kind of cars!"

"Close enough," Leo said, grinning at he started up the engine, "Back in the UK, my family is of noble blood. My name's Sir Leon Griffin Alexander the Third. Our ancestors did have quite a fortune,"

Well, isn't he the modest one? "Really? 'Cause I thought-,"

"I'm kidding," Leo chuckled as the corner of his eyes crinkled in mirth, "I can't believe you actually believed that for a second,"

I glared at him; it's a pity looks can't kill. "You suck," I sniffed, tossing my head pompously away from him.

Jay turned back to look at us. "Well, my family's not nobility, but my great-grandparents have...kitty? Are you listening?"

I ignored Jay's words as I stared above me. "Is that a sun protector?" I asked in fascinated wonder.

"Yes, Kaitlyn," Leo nodded as he backed the van out of the lot.

"Does that mean I can stick my head out of the roof?" I asked hopefully.

"Do you want to?"

"Hell yeah!"

-

Very soon, Leo pulled into a parking lot in front of this huge Asian-looking building. I didn't notice that the time had passed by so quickly, because I had been enjoying the view of the town. Sure, I did see parts of it from the airport to Aunt Elle's place, but seeing it from inside the car isn't as exciting as the view from the sunroof, right?

Jay had been trying to talk to me about the gig later, but I had been too engrossed with the pretty houses that looked like they came out from a picture book to listen to him.

I think I heard a few words here and there.

We crossed the miniature bridge that was erected over a small moat/pond that was built around the huge restaurant. I looked over the rails to watch the koi fishes in the pond with Gabriel as Leo talked with the maitre d' stationed at the podium at the entrance who was dressed in a traditional kimono.

"Irrashai mase, Mr. Alexander. How may I help you?" I heard the maitre d' greet Leo in a perfectly accented Japanese voice. I curiously looked over to see that instead of an Asian guy, it was a dark-haired guy who looked more European than Japanese.

Dang. The management here must train their staff pretty damn well. The most extravagant sushi restaurant in where I previously lived didn't even have staff that could speak proper Japanese greetings with proper accents.

"Afternoon, Sebastian. I'd like to have a table for seven people. We're here for a light lunch," Leo replied smoothly. He must be a regular patron here or something. Rich-ass.

"So, kitty," Jay said as we settled at a table with chairs instead of the low tables I had seen in the other rooms, "While we're having our meal, I'd like you to tell us your life story,"

"My life story in exchange for a free meal?" I asked suspiciously, "But the reason why you brought me here is because you nearly killed me."

"I'm intrigued by you. A seventeen-year-old girl with a rebellious image suddenly popping up late into the school year and has a voice. Bound to make a good story," he replied, "And besides, you're not just gonna die from that. Stop being paranoid, will you?"

"You have such a boring life," I commented cheerfully, "But fine, it's not like I have much to say anyway,"

Over the raw fish, sushi rolls and tempura, I poured my heart out to the guys as I told them how I used to live a upper-middle class fairy tale life before my parents decided to go to the 1000 Places To Visit Before You Die, and how I was now living with my aunt and sister. Okay, fine, I guess I did add a bit on my ex-friends.

"Wow," Tyson commented, "You must've had a lot of things to deal with, huh?"

"Oooh! Tempura ice-cream!" I exclaimed, as the waitress - also dressed in a kimono - set a bowl in front of me. "What? It's pretty normal. At least now I know that my friends back home weren't serious about our friendship."

"If my parents were going traveling, they'd bring my brothers and I along," Jordan put in.

I knew that Jordan had five brothers who were as handsome as he was. Two of them were twins, even. They must be as well-off as Leo's family. Don't ask me how I know. I just have my sources.

"Well, not everyone's born into a rich family," I said brightly as I stuck the spoon inside my mouth. Ah...ice cream. Well, that was two people who are stinking rich in the band now.

"And you always seem happy too," Tyson added, casting a skeptical glance at the plates in front of me, "You're the first girl I have ever met to not consider food as her enemy,"

I shrugged. "One: Life's short; and Two: I'm not always this happy,"

"I can attest to that," Jay said unnecessarily.

"By the way, isn't it nearly five?" I asked, glancing at the clock on the wall.

The others looked at the clock, but none of them looked panicked. I wonder why?

"Er...why aren't you rushing to pay the bill and running to the van to get to the park?" I asked.

"The thing actually starts at seven, but we thought we'd bring you over to a stylist that works for one of our dad's company," Tyson said, "Because you..."

Three people. Three filthy rich people. "...look incredibly out of place, especially when standing next to all of you?"

"Pretty much, yeah," Jordan grinned at me.

What?? Not everyone can have branded wardrobes, okay? The only existing brand I have in my room is probably the MacBook and iPod Nano that some rich ass CEO included as a party favor in a bag that my parents got at some party a few years ago and my Converse stuff. And I tell you, I had a very trying time acquiring some of the Converse stuff from thrift stores that I used to raid with my sister.

Come to think of it, that's about the only time where Genevieve and I really bonded and had each other's backs. The other times we were just about ready to kill each other.

Good times, good times. Moving on.

"What do you say, kitty?" Jay prompted.

"I have no choice," I sighed, standing up from the table, "You'll have to thank Gabriel later. It's only because of him I'm here,"

The boys carted me back to the van, which I learned was also the band's main mode of transportation due to its size, and drove uptown, where all the rich and famous of Sandfields lived. I couldn't help ogling at every single mansion we drove by, as it seemed like every building we passed, the houses just kept increasing in size.
Leo stoped the van in front of a stately residence, which had this extremely well-kept garden and the courtyard had the classic water-fountain-at-the-courtyard-with-a-roundabout thing going on. What century are we in again?

"Welcome to my humble abode," Tyson said with a grin as he slid the door of the van open.

Humble my ass. My idea of humble is the tiny apartment that my college-freshman cousin rents in California.

Inside Tyson's mansion, we were greeted by a very flamboyant man who looked like he was in his early twenties. He introduced himself as just Chace. No last names or whatever, because according to him, having a first name and surname was too 'stuffy' and 'businesslike'.

Apparently, he's a celeb stylist that the women of the Gyles family had poached at a fashion show in NYC. He had quite the looks, but let's just say he wasn't really my type.

"Tyson, mon chéri!" Chace cooed as he flounced towards us and kissed both of Tyson's cheeks, "I wasn't expecting you for another half-hour!"

Yeah. He's a homosexual.

"Plans changed, Chace," Jay said as he got his turn of the cheek-kissing.

Ew. Who would want to kiss...him?

Chace stopped to look at me. "Who is this...this..." he seemed to fail in finding words to describe me. Well, I've always thought that I was pretty hard to describe. "...this unfashionable, unmade-up creature who looks out of place among you!?"

I think I prefer to be indescribable.

"Here, let me introduce you. This is my kitty, Kaitlyn Hunter, and that noob-looking guy over there is Gabriel Lyndon," Jay offered helpfully.

"Lyndon?" Chace repeated as he cast a curious glance over Gabriel, who was squirming uneasily now, "Are you by any chance related to Chaz Lyndon?"

"Yeah," Gabriel mumbled, "He's my brother,"

Well, that's a surprise. I never knew Gabriel had a brother. He struck me as the only-child type.

"Fabuleux!" Chace exclaimed. Well, he's one happy person. "I absolutely love what he did with the models at the Winter Fashion Gala last year!"

"Er...yeah. It was pretty good, I guess." Gabriel agreed uncomfortably.

That's strange. Gabriel seems like he wants to avoid the subject of his brother. I wonder why?

"Chace, sorry to interrupt your chat, but I would like to ask of you to maybe work your magic on this lady?" Leo asked with a pleasant smile.

"All right, give me an hour and a half max, I'll have this girl looking from drab to glamoreux in no time,"

Gee, that was nice of him to say so. Until today, I thought I looked reasonably okay.

"Some of my team are in the other room, readying your clothes for you." Chace informed as he whisked me away from the band and Gabriel.

Chace dragged me to a huge wooden oak door and pushed it open, and I saw a highly-equipped salon station with a couple of women bustling about with their arms loaded with clothes.

"Girls!" Chace announced, "We have one and half hours to convert this fashion disaster into something presentable!"

Did I mention how bad does an insult bite?

I was literally chained to the beauty chair while a bunch of people plus Chace attacked my hair and face. I must've squealed in pain for about a million times as a brush poked me or when a pair of tweezers clamped onto my eyebrow. I was obstructed from the view of the mirror, so I couldn't see what they were doing to me. Good grief, these stylists can definitely beat a heavyweight champion in a martial arts duel, no problem.

I silently sent prayers to the Heaven above and silently cursed the guys minus Gabriel, who took no part in what was happening to me right now.

Exactly one hour later, Chace clapped his hands. "Okay! We're done with phase one and two! Station and ready yourselves for the final phase!"

The assistants automatically started towards a black door nearby, which I assumed had to be something to with the final phase. Chace sure knows how to make a person feel like a mutated experiment, huh?

Chace had a very satisfied look on his face as he surveyed his handiwork. "I'm a genius, if I say so myself," he commented delightedly. Well, he sure has no problems conveying his thoughts to people.

"Prepared to be ah-mazed," he announced as he stepped aside to let me have a proper look at the mirror.

I resent Chace for being rude about me earlier, but right now, the only thing I'm feeling for the man is: R-E-S-P-E-C-T.

I found myself staring at an extremely gorgeous girl, with the same hair color as mine, but instead of the previous cut it had before, it was now artfully layered. How he managed to do that in one hour, I would never know. The soft, glittering eyeshadow made her eyes look more hazel than just plain brown, and her lips were full and pouty, thanks to the wonders of lip liner and lip gloss. I shall never degrade make-up in future.

"I-is that me?" I gasped in disbelief. Damn. I looked, well, awesome.

"I didn't get the front cover feature on Vouge for nothing you know," Chace said placidly. "Well, time's a-wasting, let's get you dressed,"

So that was the final phase. Figures.

Chace pulled me through the black door and pushed me into a changing stall, throwing a pile of clothes at me. "Try these on,"

I fumbled with every article of clothing Chace gave me, but I somehow managed to work out which was which.
I think.

I tentatively stepped out, and Chace started clapping with hands and jumping up and down delightedly. "Wonderful! Magnifique! My best work yet!" he claimed.

To my utter disbelief, he threw the clothes that Ms. Summers gave to me to change into, into a wastepaper basket.

Who in their right mind tosses away perfectly good clothes into wastepaper baskets!? And when it's not even theirs to boot!?

"Hey!! Those were clothes I borrowed from the school!" I cried as I tried to retrieve them.

Chace held up a hand that held my Converse high-tops. "No worries, I'll give them a replacement set. I shall be sending my assistant over to your aunt's house. I have provided you with an updated wardrobe and shoes. Keep these sneakers, since I can see the future you wearing them despite my insistence," he ordered, "Yes, you shall now be able to go out looking presentable, instead of traipsing around in those nameless rags,"

Well, isn't he thoughtful?

The black door opened, and the Lightning Devils came in, with Gabriel who had apparently been caught and beautified - in male terms, of course - as well. Not that there was much to improve about Gabriel.

I watched as the members of the Lightning Devils and Gabriel took me in. Jordan had a sharp intake of breath. Leo and Tyson both just smiled at me. Lance took one look at me and his eyes widened before looking away.

Okay, so maybe I would've never actually worn what I was currently wearing, since I did have a limited allowance. Chace had given me a crimson button-up blouse that had long sleeves, which I had rolled up to arm-length and a black sleeveless vest to pull over it. My lower-body was clad in a black miniskirt with red leggings beneath and black Ugg boots which I thought were out-dated.

Now I know who put Ugg boots back in style.

"Well, you look prettier," Gabriel was the first one to speak. "You were pretty already, though,"

Awww. Gabriel's such a great friend. I love him!!

Not to be outdone, Leo gave me a flirty look. "I always knew you had the potential to shine. Beauty does lurk beneath the skin after all," he claimed heroically, "A spunky rebel or a timid little schoolgirl,"

Timid little schoolgirl? Leo actually...?

You know what? Let's just not go there.

Lance looked up at me again. "You're a very pretty girl, Kaitlyn," he said softly, "Even without the hair, make-up and clothes," Then he blushed. I didn't know rockers blushed, especially quiet, brooding ones with a small celtic cross tattooed onto his right bicep, which I just noticed when Lance came in, his shirt short-sleeved.

It was actually pretty cute; the blushing I mean.

Tyson patted Chace's back in approval. "You did good, Chace," he said appreciatively, "My sisters are gonna be sooo jealous of her,"

It was only after Chace had looked pointedly at Jay that I realized he was the only one who hadn't said anything at all. I waited for an insult or an ill-mannered sexually harassing comment from Jay, but he just kept quiet.

"Jay! I can't believe you call yourself the God among men when can't you at least compliment a beautiful lady when you see one!" Chace cried in exasperation.

My, my, Chace. Wasn't I just an unfashionable and unmade-up creature not too long ago?

Jay avoided my gaze as he turned towards the door. "Well, it's getting late, we have to go now," he said, "If we want to beat the traffic,"

Chace shook his head, obviously not pleased with Jay. He patted my cheek and gave me a pep talk. "I heard from Tyson that they had problems getting you into their band,"

Now I know boys gossip like old women.

"Do your best, all right? The boys worked hard for their reputation," Chace finished. That was rather uncharacteristic and charitable of him, if I say so myself.

I nodded before going after the boys.

-

It wasn't long before I realized that they hadn't told me what I would be singing.

"What am I supposed to sing?" I asked them as I sat between Lance and Gabriel -whom, according to Leo, was taking his position as a manager since I liked him so much, so why not?- as I had said earlier this afternoon.

"Are you familiar with Paramore?" Jordan asked, putting his bass guitar on the empty seat beside him.

"Yeah, pretty well actually," I confirmed, pleasantly surprised that they had mentioned one of my favorite bands. "I'm a fan."

"Which song's your favourite?" Tyson asked.

"Brick by Boring Brick?"

I saw Leo grin from the rearview mirror. "Excellent," he drawled in his sexy accent.

Leo pulled into a parking lot, and I realized that some of the people milling outside had guitar and bass cases in their hands. My eyes flitted over to a poster with the headlines'Amateur Rock Bands Contest!', then dread filled up in me.

"We-we're competing?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

"Of course, it's not exactly a one-band gig. This is good publicity for our band," Leo explained, before looking over at Gabriel and adding, "I suppose that should be your job now, eh?"

Gabriel nodded, a slightly confused expression on his handsome face. I knew it. Leo just dropped the job on him.
We climbed out of the van, Jay and Jordan holding their guitar and bass respectively, and Leo sent Gabriel off to go get our number.

I am toast.

The Lightning Devils were up soon, so I just watched the other bands perform. And I have to say, they were all just so damn good.

As our turn drew closer, my heart rate started accelerating and I started seeing white spots, a sure sign of a panic attack.

I think Jay must have noticed, because he turned to me, and finally spoke to me. "Hey, kitty, you okay?"
I looked up at him; my legs feeling like Jell-O.

"Can I skip this one?" I asked him, " 'Cause I don't feel so good,"

"Up next: The Legendary Lightning Devils!!" the MC screamed into the microphone.

Jay looked up to the others who were already getting on-stage, then looked back at me. He held out a black masquerade mask, which, to my irritation, was shaped like the upper-half of a cat's head. A lightning bolt was crudely drawn on the left side of the mask with neon-yellow marker.

"You're the Lightning Kitty for now, kitty," he said with the wink I knew so well, "By the way, did I mention how fabulously attractive you look?"

I gaped at him as he bounded on-stage with his guitar and plugged it in the amplifiers and gave a teasing pluck on the instrument. The crowd went wild, screaming for him and his band-mates.

"Today, we have a new addition!" Jay shouted into his microphone, "Please welcome the Lightning Kitty!"
I pulled the mask over my eyes and said a quick prayer before joining the guys.

I gripped the microphone as I looked over at Jay, who was standing beside me. He nodded encouragingly.

I took a deep breath and...

Chapter Four

References: Hurricane Streets by Hey Monday is used here. Don't sue!

-----------

Against my will, I am currently being dragged to one of the school's music rooms by Leo and Jay, with the others trailing behind us. I wonder how many kinds of rooms does this school have, exactly? It's like so freakin' huge.

"Uh, hello? I can walk you know," I said matter-of-factly to the two guitarists, "And I'm gonna press charges against you guys for molestation, man-handling, kidnapping and depriving me of lunch,"

I started struggling, trying to pull myself free from the grasps of Jay and Leo. Why is it that I'm always so weak? Back in Boston, I was always asked to be at the top of the pyramid when one of their flyers were absent.

Goodness, I'm saying a lot of things that start with 'Back in Boston'. Damn it.

The two of them just held on harder onto my arms, resulting in me accidentally (but to my satisfaction) punching Jay's jaw and narrowly missing Leo's one. 

Jay let out a train of swear words that could've made a truck driver blush, as he freed one of his hands to rub the sore area where I had hit.

Tsk, tsk. I wonder what his mom would've said when she heard him?

"My God, kitty. We're not doing anything illegal to you," Jay grumbled, "It's the twenty-first century, for goodness' sake. It's perfectly legal to hold the arm of a girl,"

"And what, drag her somewhere against her will!?" I retorted, "I haven't even eaten anything since morning!"

"You can eat later. Who asked you to be an anorexic bimbo and not eat breakfast?"

I seriously feel like saying some of those profanities that Jay had spouted earlier. Oh, and I also feel like kicking him where the sun don't shine. That's a pretty tempting idea right now, seeing my current situation.

"I'm not anorexic, all right!? It's just that you don't have the luck to feel like a pregnant woman, rushing around throwing up every morning just because you eat a bit of breakfast like I do!" I snapped, "And besides, why can't I not perform today? It's not like they'll miss me or anything, since they don't even know I exist,"

"Which is exactly why you should start performing ASAP," Jordan said, opening a door that we stopped in front of.

Jay and Leo, both still holding onto either of my arms, dragged me inside the music room, followed by the other members of the Lightning Devils and Gabriel. I was dragged and placed in front of a microphone stand.

"Here's the other microphone. Try it out," Jay ordered. Wow. They work faster than I do. I wonder who set up the microphone before we got here?

"There's such a thing as the word 'please', you know," I muttered, "Or are you just used to having millions of women and girls falling and bowing at your feet?"

"The latter, kitty," Jay grinned, "Now, sing some random song you know,"

That's why I hate hot guys. They think they're all that and stuff, and Jay was a very good example of that. 

I folded my arms, a look of stubbornness etched into my face. What can I say? I'm a feminist at heart, even though I'm half-starved.

Lance looked at me, a blank look on his face, which actually suited his looks. He turned to Jay, and opened his mouth. "Jay, just say 'please' will you? We can't lose this one. We've been through this too many times," he said quietly, "And competition's getting tougher. Kaitlyn will be a great trump card,"

A moment of silence ensued as I processed the fact that the normally quiet Lance had spoken more than five words. Then I processed what he had said.

What? I'm a growing, half-starved teenager. I need my nourishment, but thanks to some people (hint at Jay), I have to wait 'till four o'clock when I get back to Aunt Elle's house to actually eat something edible.

"Fine," Jay said childishly, "Please, kitty. Sing a song for us to hear your lovely voice,"

I ignored Jay, and turned to Lance with a questioning look. "What do you mean by you have been through this too many times?"

"It's pretty easy to guess," Lance replied in the same quiet tone.

Then, realization suddenly dawned upon me. It felt pretty epic, by the way, the realization dawning upon me.

"Do you mean I'm not the first female singer you've tried recruiting into the band?" I asked, a spark of interest growing in me. "What happened to my predecessors?"

An uncomfortable and pregnant silence hit the room, as some of the band members, Jordan and Tyson in particular, fidgeted nervously. Only Lance was unaffected by my question, seeing as he was the one who led me to asking it, and Gabriel, who was obviously out-dated in the band's history. The lack of noise was deafening.

Oooh. This is interesting.

"Soooo...care to tell me?" I urged, a cheshire-cat grin of my own spread across my face.

Jay cleared his throat in a business-like manner. "It's nothing important, so..."

"The last one quit because of Leo," Lance interrupted, "And the one before that quit because of Jay."
I knew it. It had to be them.

Jay and Leo shot the keyboardist a dirty look.

"Well, I couldn't help it. She practically expected me to marry her," Leo said defensively, "And I'm only seventeen, for God's sake! All I promised her were good times and memories. She misinterpreted me for a serious relationship,"

"What about him?" I asked, pointing at Jay like he was an animal. But animals are better than him, I tell you, waaaaay better.

"I'm just not interested in a relationship now," Jay said airily, picking up an electric guitar and studying the surface, " 'sides, I have to look after you now, kitty," He winked at me. 

Jerk.

"How many have you been through, exactly?" I asked, ignoring the gnawing irritation that had festered ever since I met Jay this morning.

"Well...a couple of them," Tyson said, the tone of his voice reluctant. He must be uncomfortable with the fact that his friends are a bunch of playboy jerks.

"Eight," Lance dead-panned. All of us, excluding Leo and Jay, turned to look at said people accusingly.
"We can't help it if they can't cope with it and be professional about it," Jay said loftily, "I mean, it is partly their fault for misreading us,"

That tweaked a nerve. My dad has always said that I liked to be the best of the best, because it was a faulty genetic trait that I inherited from him. I take up challenges like a dog picks up a bone.

What? I thought it was a pretty good metaphor, actually.

Anyways, I did that weird bangs over eyes thing and in a deadly tone, I said, "Are you trying to say that I'm not cut out for this thing?"

"Oh, no, it's just tha-," Leo began, but Jay cut in like the ill-mannered person he is.

"You could be," Jay suggested slyly, "I mean, after all, you didn't want to join us in the first place. You might not be even cut out for it at all,"

I fully put the blame on my daddy for whatever happened next. Sorry dad, if you're sneezing right now in Paris or Rome, wherever the hell you are with mom.

"Never fear," I said icily, "Because I don't intend on running away after whatever you've done wrong to me, because I will get back at you, and I especially do NOT intend on falling in love with any of you,"

The Devils and Gabriel stared at me in shock after my announcement. Both Leo and Jay simply smiled at me cryptically.

I distrust those smiles.

"Amaze us, if you will," Leo said gallantly, flourishing an arm towards the microphone.

"Fine," I snarled, stepping up nearer to the stand.

I can sing, no problem. It's just them anyway, and it's not like I'm performing on stage in front of a crowd. Just pretend that none of them are here. It's pretty easy, in Leo's and Jay's cases. 

I mentally picked out one of my favourite songs that I knew like the back of my hand. It goes like this:

The storm is rushing on me
Here's the flood flash
I feel so locked and loaded
Let me out, let me out


Wake up in a wasteland
Where the trees are crashing fast
Make or break
The road explodes
Get out, get out of this town


Live faster, live stronger
Let us speed up
Or get blown over


Time's wasting
How much longer
Before I get myself free
Of these hurricane streets?


I reluctantly looked over at the Devils, wondering what they thought of my singing after I finished, or rather, my song choice. They don't look like people who would take too kindly to Hey Monday, but as the saying goes, looks can be deceiving. Leo's a prime example of that, thank you very much.

Jay and Leo were smiling; contentedness present in both their faces, the kind a person would get after eating a hugely satisfying meal. Jordan was just nodding sagely in approval, and Tyson and Gabriel both looked taken aback. Lance, as expected, remained cool.

Awesome. I wasn't expecting such reactions, Lance's excluded.

I stepped back from the mike and turned towards them, and before anything else happened, I saw a blinding white flash, rendering me unconscious, next thing I knew.

At least I didn't fall on top of the equipment, though, because those tangles of wires don't look very accommodating.

Chapter Three

You know in the movies where everything suddenly goes all slow-mo and stuff?

That's exactly what I did, when I heard Jay's voice. My jaw lost its hinges and dropped open like that old, defective mailbox Aunt Elle was planning to replace yesterday, and I let go of my paintbrush, watching it as it slowly fell onto the ground; it was as if time had slowed down or something.

I turned around as I bent down to pick up the fallen paintbrush, trying to muster up as much confidence and dignity as possible. "What are you doing here!?"

Jay responded with the fast-becoming-familiar playboy grin of his and held up a flower pot with a single, white daisy planted in. "The weather's pretty good and the flowers are as fresh as this daisy," he said, "Guess now I know your dirty little secret!"

He started chuckling at his poor attempt to make a pun. Apparently, Mr. Band Leader thought he was a born comedian. Like, dream on dude.

"On to a more serious note," I heard Leo say as he came up behind Jay, "Jay's hunch was right. You can sing,"

I snorted and rolled my eyes. "Yeah right, sing like a walrus,"

I looked over expectantly at Jay, waiting for some kind of agreement from him. Instead, all he said was, "Join us, kitty."

It was as if I had gone crazy. I started laughing this delusional, maniacal, mad-woman laugh, making Jay and Leo watch me with concern. I could imagine what they were thinking right now.

'Is this girl in her right state of mind? Has she gone round the bend?'


"You have got. To be. Joking." I said curtly, bending down to pick up my paintbrush. I wonder why I even talk to them. Sure, I mean, they're hot, good-looking and all, but they are so full of crap.

Join them? Nuh-uh. No way am I ever going to perform singing. I mean, you could DIE when you sing you know. Did you know, a band was performing outdoors, and the singer had to go to the hospital later because he got struck by lightning? Apparently, his microphone was like a lightning conductor and he was holding onto it, so it all adds up to: FATALITY.

I know. I ripped off from NigaHiga. Who cares?

And it's true I made up that fact. But I mean, it's possible! Just add in some simple sciences about lightning and steel, it's a perfectly good hypothesis that just hasn't been proven yet.

"We're not joking," Jay said dryly, folding his arms across his chest. Didn't anyone ever tell him that only girls do that now? "I've always been pretty spot-on with my gut instinct. I can tell when someone has a good musical talent. You, my kitty, have a voice,"

"I don't lie to pretty damsels like you," Leo said with an impish wink. Ugh. There for a moment, I thought he was being very serious and all grown-up.

"Sure you don't," I said sarcastically, "I guess that's why Buffy, Muffy and Betsy were bawling their eyes out in the girls' washroom when I went in there,"

Leo held up an informing finger. "For your information, dear, it's Brenda, Miranda and Britney," he said, "And they were just a bit too much for me. I prefer simple, cute, wholesome girls like you."

Damn, that guy's got no pride. "I'm sure as hell that the fact that I can't sing is true," I lashed out at them, "And do you know the meaning to the phrase 'respect one's privacy'!? Or do you need someone to translate that into the language of flirts!?"

My breathing went all ragged because of the exertion of forceful, negative energy I used on Jay and Leo. Yoga doesn't work for some people, apparently. All those yoga classes I was forced to take with my ex-best friend were just a waste of time and money.

I want my money back.

I dropped the paintbrush I was holding onto the table next to the palette and stormed out, grabbing my backpack as I went.

"Daaaamn," I heard someone else say, "Jay, Leo, you guys picked one tough chick to mess with,"

Chick!? Excuse me, but do you see any yellow fluffy feathers on me!?

"Oh shut up, Jordan," Jay growled, "But mark my words, we're gonna get her in the band somehow,"

Yeah right. Like that'll ever happen. This is me they're talking about. The one who stood up to the entire senior football and basketball team in her sophomore year because they were bullying a freshman kid for being gay. I can definitely stand up against a pair of airheads.

I managed to avoid direct contact with Jay and Leo for the rest of the morning. Both of them mostly had classes with me, but I ignored them and pretended to be immersed into my class work, occasionally tapping my head with a pencil then going, "Aha!!" which they would look over at me, with hopes of talking to me, but by then, I'd be back into my semi-dreamworld.

Oh, I'm good.

By lunch, I successfully managed to maneuver my way out of the classroom and hall and into the cafeteria without any of the twin playboys catching up with me. I sat at an empty table, sighing as I set my bag down. It was as if my own body was mocking me, but my stomach growled to accentuate the fact that I was tired, friendless and pissed off. My day is soooo ruined.

"Hungry?"

A fair-skinned, dark-haired guy set down his tray in front of me, taking up a seat. His appearance literally took my breath away. His locks were luxuriously wavy; my mom would've been drooling over it, and his skin was so damn flawless that it could've even put the most beautiful supermodels to shame.

His eyes were a strange mix of hazel and blue, but it was still pretty. I do tend to concentrate most on the eyes when I do a portrait of someone, because lifeless eyes mean a pointless portrait.

"I thought gentlemen were supposed to pretend they don't hear a lady's stomach growl," I muttered, scowling up at him.

The guy let out a deep-throated chuckle and pushed a chocolate muffin my way. "Well, I was told that I wasn't that much of a gentleman," he said, amusement twinkling in his eyes, "My name's Gabriel Lyndon."

"Gabriel…like the angel?"

"I've been told," He chuckled, "What's your name?"

"Kitty Girl," I answered sarcastically as Jay flashed into my mind.

"Finally, you acknowledge the name I gave you,"

My blood ran cold and I saw Jay sliding onto the bench next to Gabriel. "What the hell are you doing?" I hissed at him, "Go play with your harem or something!"

Jay looked offended. "Who says I have a harem? I may be the hottest guy around, being able to tame multiple women older than I to do my bidding, but I certainly, most absolutely, do not have a harem!"

Looks like Jayden's picked up a few lines from Leo.

"It's Kaitlyn Hunter, by the way," I added to Gabriel before turning to Jay, "Where's your other half anyway?"

"Right here, darling," the suave voice greeted my ears. I closed my eyes and counted to ten before opening them again.

Oh lookie! It's the Hotties United! I wonder if anyone has ever told them to get matching uniforms?

All five of the Lightning Devils sat at Gabriel's and my table, ultimately disrupting my chance to get to know him better. Leo, as I predicted, chose to sit right next to me, while the blond-highlighted-brunette from earlier sat on my left. "Jordan Grayson, at your service," he spoke directly into my ear, "I heard you. You really should join us,"

I narrowed my eyes and glowered at Jay. Jay noticed my look, and said, "Jordan's the bassist,"

"Like I even care!" I cried, "Then what are you? The lead asshole!?"

Jay bit into a chicken sandwich lazily. "It's lead guitarist and vocalist. I'm pretty sure I told you that I play lead guitar? But of course, I'd hand half that position of a vocalist over to you if you agree to come into our band,"

"Fat chance, Stanford,"

"It's Jayden, kitty."

"Like I give a damn,"

I snuck a glance at Gabriel, trying to give him a look of apology, but he was staring at the black-haired guy. Said black-haired guy lifted up a can of whatever fancy-schmancy drink they drink to his lips and turned to face me.

"Lancelot Montague, keyboardist," he said shortly before opening a well-worn copy of War and Peace.

O-kay. The keyboardist is a bookworm. So that means that not all of the Devils are male-bimbos. I studied Lancelot closer, to see that he had navy highlights in his black hair. That's pretty cool, considering the fact that he's a guy. He must have a rare sense of style or something.

The copper-haired guy waved a hand in front of my face. "It's Tyson Gyles, if you're wondering," he said pleasantly. This hot guy's got manners. I might get to like him after all. "I play the drums,"

Tyson gestured over to Lancelot. "We just call him Lance. He's always reading, so don't mind him,"

I looked at Leo. What does he play, exactly? Definitely not the violin to attract hordes of female fans. They're rock band, for goodness' sake. If it was the electric violin…

As if he had read my mind, Leo said, "I'm the rhythm guitarist, and I'm also usually saddled with the administrative area of the band,"

"You? A debonair casanova a manager?" I echoed, "That is such a joke,"

"You seem to think that everything we do is a joke, kitty," Jay said, leaning forward and swiping the muffin Gabriel had given me. Stupid little thief.

"That was mine," I said firmly, staring at Jay stonily.

"Oh, too bad," Jay bit into the chocolate pastry, "But I could always get you another one if you agree to join us,"

I sighed noisily, and rubbed my temples. Pretty soon, I am gonna sprout white hair. "I can't sing. How many times do I have to tell you that?"

Jay looked right into my eyes, his sea-foam orbs piercing into my drab, brown ones. "For as many times until you give in and join," he said confidently, flashing me a winning smile, "The art of pestering another is timeless, you know,"

"Wow. To think being annoying is actually an art to master," I commented, my voice dripping with sarcasm, "Because I thought it came to you naturally,"

Jay put a hand over his chest. I think it's his favourite pose or something, because I've seen him do that for a number of times this morning. "I am naturally talented at most things, but pestering is a very delicate art. It took me years to master,"

"Yeah, when you started talking, your training started,"

"How'd you guess?" Jay asked me delightedly.

"Because I'm psychic," I replied, rolling my eyes.

"You want Kaitlyn to be in your band?" Gabriel asked unexpectedly out of nowhere.

Leo turned to him, surprised. "Why, of course. That's the sole reason why we sat here today. This cutie here-," he gestured over to me, "-absolutely refuses to join. We're trying to convince her to join us. We need her,"

Gabriel furrowed his eyebrows. "Only you and Jayden?"

Leo shook his head, tossing his fine mane of hair in the process, making him look more leonine, like his namesake. "Jordan, Tyson and Lance agreed too. We need a female singer for our band. It's all part of our grand master plan," he explained. He looked at Gabriel curiously and asked, "Why are you so eager to know, Lyndon?"

Gabriel turned to me, ignoring Leo's question. "Hey, Kaitlyn, why don't you try it out for a while? It might be a good chance to get some experience or something,"

What!? Now Gabriel has turned against me!? I'm soooo doomed. "What!? I thought you were my friend!!!" I cried, feeling betrayed.

Gabriel chuckled. "Kaitlyn, I still am your friend, and as a friend, I think it's a good opportunity and experience for you to join a band," he said, smiling at me. His smile was so whole-hearted; I couldn't help but give in. What happened to iron-willed Kaitlyn? She must've been on a different plane or something.

"Fine," I gave in, sighing. I seem to be doing that a lot these days. The stress in getting onto me. I need chocolate. NOW. "But don't regret it. I suck ass in singing,"

Not to mention, I have a stage-phobia, I added silently.

Jay happily sucked in the last remains of his orange juice in a carton. "Okay!! We have a slot in a concert tonight. Come by at five to get ready,"

WHAT!? I JUST JOINED AND THEY EXPECT ME TO START WORKING RIGHT AWAY!?

"Uh, hello? But if you haven't noticed, you just recruited me into your band at, oh, about, FIVE SECONDS AGO!?"

Jay stood up, as well as Lance, who was still reading (I guess he reads while walking) and Tyson. "Of course I know, but we're gonna be playing a few songs that you might be familiar with,"

"Are you unable to remember things or what?" I asked him desperately, "Because, F-Y-I, I have never, ever heard of your band until today and I don't know any of your songs!"

Leo arched his eyebrow. "My dear, why are you so anxious to not perform? I mean, that's what you'll mostly be doing now that you're in our band,"

I didn't reply, because I was busy blocking the unspeakable thoughts that were pouring into my mind.

I don't want it to happen anymore. Never. Ever. Again.

Chapter Two

References: I'm not much of a lyrics-writer, so I'll be using a bunch of my favourite songs. The song used here is Dirty Little Secret by The All-American Rejects. THEY ROCK!

-----------------------

I blinked.

Dammit. I was never late for school back in Boston. And now thanks to that stupid, harassing, cocky jerk, my three-year-long record is going to be blemished.

"OHMYGODI'MSOLATE!!" I shrieked for the second time that day. I think I feel a sore throat coming on.
I hitched my backpack up higher on my shoulder and dashed past Jay and his groupies and into the school.

To tell the truth, I'm not much of a sporty person. I always managed to stay out of PE as much as possible, because I'm the Master of Avoidance. But strangely, I adopted the speed of a sprinter and hurdler as I miraculously managed to clear the many obstacles in the school compound aka the flower beds and pots in record time.

It's amazing what panic and fear can make you do.

I made it to my homeroom before the teacher did. Wait. Actually, I made it to my homeroom when the teacher did. I looked up at the teacher, putting on my 'please-don't-kill-me-pretty-pwease?' face. Genevieve's used it countless time on my parents when she's in trouble, and this is one of those rare times where the older sibling actually benefits from the younger one.

The teacher was a twenty-ish woman with platinum blond hair that framed her heart-shaped face in soft curls and pastel blue eyes behind a pair of frame-less glasses; a classic angel.

I think I died somewhere and I'm in heaven meeting my first angel. I could practically see the halo circling above her head and a pair of wings on her back.

"God?" I asked meekly.

"I'm not God. Don't be silly. You shouldn't use the Father's name in vain," the teacher reprimanded me as she cast a critical eye over me, "I'm your homeroom teacher, Ms. Samantha Fields. You're the new transferee, right?"
I nodded mutely. She is S-C-A-R-Y.

Okay. Note to self: Never judge book by its cover. It's deceptive.

"There's an empty seat at the back of the classroom. Kindly take your seat and don't be late again, understand?" she cast a critical eye over me, "I hope you know that you have just failed to make a good impression on me,"

I nodded again and pushed the door open and instantly, I felt all eyes upon me. Everyone was giving me a creepy once-over. I think it must be my shoes and hair. I can explain them, though.

You see, I took the liberty of the rule that said a student must wear black footwear and instead of the standard-issued Mary Janes, I decided to wear my favourite pair of high-tops. Mary Janes are so sixth grade.

As for my hair, it's naturally a dark auburn, but my mom dragged Genevieve and I to the salon a few months ago. My crazy mother wanted me to dye the whole thing red, but that would seem like I'm a Hayley Williams wanna-be. Which, by the way, I am not, albeit the fact I love Paramore and despite the fact it is a mainstream band, because in actuallity, I like songs that are good. Mainstream or not. So, I opted for red streaks instead. It's really cool actually.

But standing in a classroom full of Kens and Barbies made me feel like a hobo and totally uncool. Practically everyone had a Blackberry or and iPhone or an equivalent of that. I don't even own a freakin' cheapie cell phone yet.

I did the dignified thing and walked to the back of the classroom with my head held up high, wearing a reticent expression.

"Hey kitty,"

What. The. Hell!?

"What are you doing here!? You're supposed to be outside waiting for the police to pick you up, you escaped convict!" I hissed.

There sitting in the corner seat, was none other than glasses-guy a.k.a. Jayden Stanford a.k.a. Jay. He grinned at me as he easily lounged in his chair, twirling a pencil.

"Who says I'm an escaped convict?" Jay asked, arching an eyebrow, "I study here. Besides, I've never done anything illegal except littering,"

"Then how'd you get here so quickly!?"

"It's an art I've been practicing since middle school, kitty. Now why don't you take a seat? You're disrupting the class," He pointed his pencil towards the front of the classroom, and Ms. Fields and my new classmates were staring at me.

"Is there a problem with Mr. Stanford, Ms. Hunter?" Ms. Field's pastel blue eyes seemed to turn icy as she looked over at us. She's an angel turned ice queen.

"Nothing at all, miss," I mumbled, sinking into the empty seat next to Jay. Great, just great. My first day here, and I'm already in a teacher's black list. I had a surreal, twilight moment where I wondered whether this made me a school rebel or not. Apparently, I already look the part.

I sighed in exasperation as I took out a blank writing pad and writing stationery. I wish I was back in Boston.
"Stressed?" Jay asked, amusement glinting in his eyes, "It's only homeroom period, kitty,"

I glared at Jay. If only looks could kill. "My name is NOT kitty. How many times do I have to tell you that, Stanford!?"

"My name's not Stanford, kitty. It's Jayden. Jayden Stanford," Jay corrected, running a hand through his messy hair.

"Have you ever heard of a comb, then, Jayden?" I asked, "Because it's either that, or you're trying to be Robert Pattinson,"

Jay's expression sparked with interest. "Robert Pattinson? Really?" he asked, "So that must mean you think I'm one hell of a sexy guy then,"

Ew. I think I just re-swallowed my breakfast. Wait. I didn't even have breakfast. Oh well.

"Don't make me throw up," I rolled my eyes, grabbing a pencil and doodling over a blank sheet of paper, "Because aside from you being not sexy, I think Robert Pattinson is ugly,"

"Hey! Is it because he's British?" a familiar British-accented voice came from my other side. I turned left to see the super-hot British cutie. I think his name was Leo.

"No. I have nothing against British people. I like British accents, actually. They're pretty cute,"

Leo leaned towards me, and I could feel the heat rising within my cheeks. Damn it.

"The name's Leon Alexander. It's pronounced Lee-yon. Not Lay-yon. Leo for short. Pleased to meet you, Miss Kaitlyn Hunter," he traced a finger along the lines of my jaw and added, "You're a very, very cute lady,"

I felt like I was the prey and Leo's the hunter. I was extremely entranced in his charm when I felt the back of my collar being tugged and I was pulled away from Leo. "Hey, no flirting with the stressed-out kitty," Jay cut in, "Besides, you'll burn the eyes of the under-aged,"

"How'd you know my name?" I asked Leo, pretending that Jay hadn't disrupted the moment between Leo and I.

Leo winked at me. "I try my best to acquaint myself with all the beautiful ladies around here,"

"Do you say that to every girl you meet?" I asked, swatting Jay's hand away from me. I turned to Jay, giving him another pointed look. "Hands off. Do not touch me. I'm keen on not contracting any infectious diseases from you,"

"What about Leo then?" Jay whined. Ah. There's another part of the ego-maniacal band leader I haven't seen, and it's wayyy better than the usual one.

"Well, he seems perfectly trustworthy and doesn't harass others like some people I know," I said laconically, turning back to my drawing.

I heard Leo chuckle. "It's nice to meet someone who doesn't drool all over Jay," he said, "It's even better to know it's a cutie like you,"

I swear, in every sentence Leo speaks, there's always a flirtatious comment. He must speak a unique language or something. "I take back my words. Please don't touch me either,"

"Hah!" Jay snorted in triumph as Leo sent an injured look over to me.

Silence returned as Leo lost interest in me (thank god for that!) and Jay was moodily scribbling in his own writing pad. I happily immersed myself in my drawing. Who doesn't like drawing? It's so calm-inducing and takes away all your problems.

"Kaitlyn."

I guess I was wrong.

I looked up, and saw Jay with a mischievous expression on his face. "Kate-lynne..." he rolled my name off his tongue, somehow making it seem mysterious and exotic.

I felt my heart skip a beat. Must've been the lack of breakfast and jet lag, since I just arrived in Sandfields yesterday, because no way in hell am I falling for that son of a b-. Wait. Swearing's bad for the health. That's what my best frie-, sorry, my ex-best friend used to tell the jocks back in our Boston high school. And she always used to- wait. Must refrain myself from taking a trip down memory lane. It's v. v. dangerous.

"What?" I snapped at him. Can't a person be left in peace, even if it's only for a few minutes? I thought gentlemen were supposed to respect us ladies?

Oh wait. I momentarily forgot who I was talking about there. Sorry.

Jay squinted his eyes, cocking his head to one side, as if he were cross-examining me.

"What? I know I'm not shapely an' all, but you don't have to study me like I'm a freak,"

My words caused the egomaniac to sprout a grin on his face. "Well, it's true that I've seen and had women with better curves, language and manners..."

I hate him. I really, honestly do.

"...but I was just wondering, if you're so artsy and all, do you sing?"

Wait wait wait. Rewind. Did he just ask me if I could sing?

I think Jay's a guy who can't use a remote control. He keeps pushing all the wrong buttons.

Singing is something I do not like to associate myself with. It's, like, a forbidden zone for me. Ever since that day when- okay. I'm overstepping the boundaries again. No trekking down memory lane.

"Why do you want to know whether I'm vocally talented or not?" I asked, "Does it even concern you? Or are you just a busybody?"

Jay mocking placed a hand over his chest and put on a puppy-dog expression. "I'm so wounded that you think so lowly of me," he said, his lower-lip jutting out, "I was just asking a perfectly innocent question."

"What he means, my dear-," Leo spoke up, "-is that he had this genius inspiration at practice a few weeks ago, to include a female vocalist in our band,"

"Which everyone vehemently agreed to," Jay pointed out, "Because we're only drawing in female fans. It's not so bad having millions of women that we can tame, but we're lacking testosterone in our fan bases,"

Wow. The guy whose vocabulary consists only the words 'me', 'I' and 'mine' actually knows a few descriptive words.

"You can't even draw in homosexuals?" I asked, "Because in scientific terms, they do have manly assets. It's just that their hormone levels are unbalanced,"

Jay rolled his eyes with a 'God-why-me?' expression. "Look here, kitty. The Lightning Devils are really popular on the internet now, and we want to draw in straight guys, so that will higher the chances of us being a selling rock band when we go professional. We don't want to be like a band of Justin Biebers. We want to be legendary, just like Nirvana and such," he explained lengthily, "I didn't ask for a science lesson,"

I shrugged. "Well, too bad, because when I sing, flowers within a 60-mile-radius start wilting and thunder clouds approach the horizon,"

"That's rather descriptive," Jay mused, "But I gather that you're bluffing,"

"Too bad for you then," I said, smiling at him for the first time, "Because no one besides myself has heard me sing for years now,"

That's true. I don't sing for others. I sing for myself. I mean, who doesn't sing along to a catchy song?

Jay's face dropped a little before it brightened up again. "What are you having for the next period?" he asked.

"Are you a stalker or something?" I asked, annoyed at his constantly meaningless questions, "Because if you must know, I'm having a free period, which, if you really want to know, I'm spending in one of the empty art rooms I reserved when I registered here yesterday,"

"Wow, you work fast huh, kitty?" Jay commented, scribbling on a scrap of paper and flicking it over to Leo, whose eyes darted over the paper and pocketed it.

"What are you doing?" I asked, watching Leo furiously tap his fingers on his iPhone. Wow. I can't even type that fast.

"Guy stuff, darling," Leo winked seductively at me.

O-kay. I'll just quietly ignore these two Casanovas and do my drawing. It's way less traumatizing. If a little old lady had been in my place, I would've bet all my money that she'd have a heart attack on the spot fifteen minutes ago.

The bell rang and I quickly packed up my pencils and writing pad, excited at the prospect of spending a solitary hour in the art room. Maybe I'll do an abstract art on my mind's current state. Hm...that's quite a fetching idea.
I slipped out of the back door and happily skipped my way down to the art block. Well, 'skipped' may be over-stating, but I guess I was moving more along the lines of 'walking at a fast pace'.

You know the feeling a person gets when he's in an art room is really nice. It's sooo quiet, relaxing and stress-free. You can sculpt, paint or draw without distractions, because that's the actual purpose of an art room.

I viewed the many unfinished projects that other art-students had left inside the room. Every single one of them was finely detailed, even paint-splattered canvases. So maybe this school really is for the gifted and genius.

I think Aunt Elle bribed them to take me in. I bet they had only accepted Genevieve, seeing as she's a prima ballerina, and Aunt Elle bribed them or something to accept me as well. Maybe my darling parents asked her to do it.

I was peacefully sketching the faint out-line of my soon-to-be-painting, when I heard the faint sounds of a song being played. It was getting louder by the second, and I recognized the tune and lyrics.

'...a time or two, just to waste my time with you...'


The All-American Rejects!

The little girl in me starting jumping around happily and before I knew it, I was singing along to the all-too familiar lyrics as I dipped my paintbrush into the blue paste.

"Tell me all that you've thrown away," I sang loudly, "Find out games you don't wanna play; you are the only one that needs to know! I'll keep you my dirty little secret-!"

"And you said flowers wilt and thunder clouds approach when you sing."

An ominous chill tingled up my spine as the music paused and I recognized the low voice that belonged Jay.

Chapter One

I can't believe it.

My parents, the people who conceived and gave birth to me, actually left me here in the middle of Nowhere with my crazy, shoe-selling, unmarried aunt to go on a trip around the world.

A week ago, I was happily going about shopping with my friends, watching the latest movies and hanging out at a café in good ol' Boston.

And the lovely entity up there decided to play a cute little trick on me and made my parents suddenly want to travel around the world. Do I get to follow? Nooooo.

Instead, they withdrew my name from my high school, packed up everything single thing I owned and shipped me to God-knows-where.

And the best thing is? My 'friends' have deserted me. Not one good-bye, not even a measly email.

Isn't life wonderful?

I stared at the cereal-filled bowl in front of me on the table. Did I mention that I'm not a breakfast kind of person?

"Kaitlyn!! Here's a welcome present from me!" a cheery voice trilled. A woman in her early thirties dropped a box on the table, making the bowl shake slightly. She had mouse-brown hair that was in a messy bun, royal-blue eyes and her skin was extremely tanned.

My eyes dropped from my aunt to the box. Oh. My. God. "Converse!? You got me sneakers!?"

My aunt's - her name's Raphaelle Sherwood by the way, but she insists we call her Aunt Elle or just plain Elle – smile dropped a little.

"You don't like sneakers?" she asked. I swear, I could hear the sadness in her voice.

"Are you kidding me? I LOVE anything from Converse! I literally have everything Converse!" I shrieked in delight.
Yep. I love Converse. In fact, I'm wearing a pair of black high-tops right now. Maybe having a crazy, shoe-selling, unmarried aunt ain't so bad after all.

Aunt Elle's face brightened up again. "That's great! I was afraid you wouldn't like them. Where's your sister?"

Did I mention that I have a younger sister in middle school? Oh, before I forget, she's a total pain-in-the-ass and loves anything girly and in frills. Her name's Genevieve. My parents adore her because she looks like a Barbie and is a freakin' ballerina.

"Genevieve's in her room, getting ready," I answered, putting the shoebox aside. I'll open it later. "Here's a tip: Don't give her Converse unless it's pink or girly. And I already got her Hello Kitty printed ones last Christmas."

Aunt Elle's face dropped again. "Oh dear. I got her red low-cut sneakers. What should I do?"

I shrugged, pushing the bowl away and standing up. "I'd advise you to go to the shop and change them into maybe Roxy flip-flops or something," I said wisely. I love to sound wise. It makes me feel even more mature. "Genevieve loves Roxy. She's a brand-conscious person like me,"

Yes. I'm a shallow person concerned with labels. Is that so wrong?

Aunt Elle sighed and plopped down onto one of the chairs in the kitchen. "Going so early?"

I grabbed my backpack and opened the kitchen door. "Private schools require punctuality, right? See ya later,"

I closed the door behind me and bravely walked down the pathway of the backyard and out of the small garden gate. I could hear my aunt calling my sister. "GENEVIEVE!! HURRY UP OR YOU'LL BE LATE!"

Hah. I'm the good girl this time. I could get used to this.

I looked around, sight-seeing as I walked to school. All the houses were considerably-sized and in neat rows. I passed a big sign with huge, iron block letters that spelt out 'Sandfields'.

You know, when I said middle of Nowhere, I meant it. I had never heard of any place called Sandfields, until my parents decided to buy two plane tickets for my brat sister and I and cargo all our belongings to this place. I always thought my Aunt Elle lived... well, I actually never really thought about it. Now that I contemplate on it, I feel pretty stupid.

I had been expecting barren deserts and cactuses galore, but instead, everything here seemed so perfect. Even the lakes that we passed by on our way to Aunt Elle's house were clear and scum-free. Makes me wonder whether this is the real world. I must've probably volunteered for some elaborate lifelike game simulation beta or something.

I could see a big brick building in the distance now. That pile of bricks is my new school, Sandfields Academy. Apparently, it's supposed to school all the most elite and smartest students around. Lord knows how Genevieve and I got in.

I looked up into the perfectly blue sky, wondering what I would've been doing if I was still in Boston, when conveniently, the divine prankster decided to trip me.

A very inappropriate word escaped my mouth, and I turned to glare at what had given me a free ticket to an early morning sidewalk facial.

A guitar case with a lightning sticker on the surface sat there in the middle of the sidewalk. "Who in hell do you belong to!?" I asked the guitar angrily.

This is sooo not what I would've been doing in Boston. Until today, I have never in my life talked to an inanimate object.

"Well, I'm not from hell, but that belongs to me," a low voice said. Hmph. A guy.

I looked up and a guy wearing dark glasses and a beanie pulled over his head stood in front of me.

I couldn't see his face, but from the looks of his well-toned biceps which were revealed by the rolled-up sleeves of the white dress shirt he was wearing as well as the steel stud in his left ear, he was probably below thirty.

Any thirty-and-above guy in his right mind doesn't wear a stud in his ear. It just screams lame and trying-too-hard-to-seem-young.

I stood up and directed my glare at him. "Who in their right mind would put a guitar case in the middle of the sidewalk and let people trip over it!?" I hissed at him.

Glasses-guy held up his hands in surrender. "Whoa there, kitty. I just happened to be carrying a lot of stuff today and somehow I dropped the guitar. I just came back to retrieve it."

"My name, for your information, is NOT kitty. It's-," I stopped, remembering what I had learned in pre-school. Never talk to a stranger.

Well, this guy definitely fits the bill of a stranger. He looked like a shady character, with the glasses and all. I wonder if he's a guitar-playing escaped convict. Or worse, what if he was carrying stolen stuff and happened to drop a stolen guitar and now he's gonna kill me because I found him!?

"OHMYGODI'MGONNADIE!!!!" I screamed, covering my mouth and taking a few steps backwards.

Glasses-guy looked up. I can imagine that he's rolling his eyes right now "Listen here, Kitty, I'm not going to kill you because you tripped over my guitar," he said, picking up the case, "In fact, a lot of girls would've loved to be in your position. I mean, they would've taken my guitar and given it back to me in exchange for a date,"

I abruptly recovered from my panic attack. "Well, excuse me for picking up your guitar and not asking you for a date then. I guess I'm not one of those girls." I snarled at him. Who did he think he was? Zac Efron? "And don't call me kitty. Only my parents call me that,"

Well, I didn't exactly mean to say that. But what was I supposed to say? It's my dead cat's name and calling me by its name is rude?

Glasses-guy had an amused smile. "Really? And where were you headed before you tripped over my guitar?"
Before I could answer, glasses-guy interrupted me. "Oh! You're going to school! Well, allow me to escort you,"

Damn my school blazer and sewn on emblem. He mockingly bowed down to me and stepped aside, allowing me to pass through.

I tentatively started walking again, and the glasses-guy straightened up and started following closely behind me.
"Do NOT come within thirty centimeters of me," I warned before turning back my attention to the sidewalk, "Or even better, don't follow me,"

I heard glasses-guy chuckle. Stupid jerk.

I increased my pace as I got closer to the academy, and I saw a cluster of very, very attractive guys all dressed in the academy male uniform standing in front of the gates. Are they shooting an advertisement or something?

The tallest one, a blonde with crystal-blue eyes took a step forward and opened his mouth. "Hey! Jay!" he hollered in a super-sexy British accent.

O-kay. His hotness-o-meter just increased by ten points. Who doesn't appreciate a hot British cutie? Definitely not me. Wait. Who's Jay?

I instinctively turned around and glasses-guy grinned and answered back. "Not so loud, Leo. I'm not deaf,"

So he's Jay. I guess even creepy, glasses-and-beanie-clad guys have names. Jay caught up with me and draped an arm around my shoulders.

"HARRASSER!!" I shrieked loudly. Jay hastily took his arm off me and sighed.

"Paranoid much, kitty?" Jay asked, taking off his glasses to reveal sea-green eyes. He pulled off the beanie and sun-kissed dark brown hair stuck up in all directions in tousled tufts. O-kay. I wasn't expecting glasses-guy to be that handsome. However, it still doesn't justify his dumbassery and hubris.

The British blonde, Leo, tilted his head sideways. "Who's that, Jay?"

Jay stopped in front of Hotties United and pulled the guitar case off his shoulder and let it rest against his leg. "Well, she tripped over my guitar. By the way, don't say anything that might offend her. She's as fierce as a kitty," he looked over at me and added, "Ain't that right, kitty?"

"I said my name is not kitty," I said stubbornly.

A brunette with blonde highlights grinned. "Feisty. My kinda girl,"

"Shut. Up." I growled.

A copper-haired guy turned to Jay. "She doesn't know who you are?" he asked. He sounds incredulous. Even the super-silent dark-haired one standing next to him with his eyes previously trained on his shoes looked up, eyes wide.

"Amazing, isn't it?" Jay asked, nodding, "She must be new or something,"

"New or not, she should know you. I mean, we have our faces posted all over town," the blonde-highlighted-brunette said. So Jay hangs out with his own kind. Cocky hotties.

"Well, she tripped over something this visible," Jay pointed at his guitar, "So obviously she won't notice the posters,"

"Can you not pretend that I'm not here and tell me what the hell you all are talking about!?" I asked, annoyed, "Because I'm quite late here. If not, I'll kindly take my leave."

Jay held up a hand. "Okay. I'll tell you who we are. We form an amateur rock band called The Lightning Devils, and we're pretty famous here in town." He turned to his friends, "Maybe she's not that big of a rock fan,"

The Lightning Devils.

Hm…I distinctly recall my Aunt Elle saying something about future international celebrities living here in Sandfields. I guess she must mean these people.

"Well, excuse me for not knowing you then, because I have better things to do, other than looking at every single poster I pass. Besides, I just arrived here," I said haughtily, "Putting that aside, I, in fact, am a very big fan of The All-American Rejects and Paramore!"

"Okay, okay! Chill there kitty!" Jay still had that amused grin on his face. "What's your name and where're you from?"

"Isn't it common courtesy to introduce yourself before starting a conversation?" I shot back a question of my own.

"Fine. My name's Jayden Stanford. I'm the super-awesome lead guitarist of The Lightning Devils and a student of this school in the eleventh grade."

Okay. So maybe he isn't that much of a stranger after all. He's the same age as me. And if he tries anything funny, I have my geometry set with my compass in it. And being a bit eccentric, I sharpen my compass' point every, every morning.

Before I could introduce myself though, the bell rang.

Shoot.

I'm late for class.