Rearrange Our Stars

Chapter Two

"Scarlett! You and Jackson need to car pool till his car arrives." Mom yelled up the stairs of our new house.

I never thought I'd see the day where we had to move, but the day had arrived shortly after dad had died. We received a death threat and so witness protection stepped in. We were too well known for them to change our names, maybe our style slightly, so we had a high security protection. 

That was what was annoying me most. We had two body guards in the house at all times. I could drive my brother to school,  but we were escorted. There was always a motorbike up front and a car behind us.

 Once Jackson had grabbed his bag, I drove to the new school and we parked up. Of course, because a new flashy sports car arrived, everyone's eyes were on us.

"Oh my god, do you see him?"

"Are they like, together?"

"She is hot as fuck." 

All of the comments above I'd caught wind of and I rolled my eyes. We ignored the stares as we headed to the office and sat down with the principle.

He went over everything, we went over everything and things were worked out for our body guards to have access to the school security. That was when we left the room and our escorts walked in. We had to wait till they were done and by that point, the bell had done and we were already twenty minutes late to the lesson.

After getting our schedules, we headed to our lessons. I knew that we shared the same lunch, so I wasn't worried about that.

Reaching room two-oh-five, I knocked on the door before entering. 

 All eyes were on me and I felt my cheeks warm up.

"Can I help you?" 

"I'm the new girl here." I muttered and a look of recognition flashed across the woman's face and her jaw dropped. 

The downside to being the daughter of the most famous fashion designer, you get recognised. 

"If you could introduce yourself to the class then." She smiled a bit too brightly and I internally groaned. This was the last thing I wanted to do.

 But I stuck on a smile and faced the class.

"My name is Scarlett Armstrong. Those who don't live under a rock probably know that I'm daughter of the famous Mary Armstrong. I don't like being called Scar, I'm not about to become your best friend and no I'm not dating." My voice had become monotone before I flashed a smile at the class. 

Scanning across the faces, I took in the ones which I would probably want to avoid and the ones I'd want to befriend. When I saw a space open by a girl who seemed to be dressed completely different to the rest of the class, I made my decision to befriend the girl.

"Thank you Miss Armstrong, if you could take a seat anywhere." I watched some guys straighten up, others slouched. Girls seemed to pay more attention and I held back my snicker as I made my way to the girl who was sat by herself.

"Why are you sitting with the freak?" A bottle blonde girl blurted out as I went to sit down. Raising an eyebrow, annoyed that she'd spoken about the girl like that. Misreading my look of annoyance for one of confusion she continued. "I mean, she doesn't talk to anyone, she's nothing like us." 

And that annoyed me.

"So you're saying just because she likes something else means that there has to be a divide, that 'us' and 'them' has to be created? How shallow are you? Have you tried talking to her? Learn more about her?"