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Chapter One

"Saylor! How was France? Avez-vous rencontré des garçons français?" My best friend, Leah Jones meets me at my house as I'm stepping out of the taxi.

Classic Leah asking about boys basically before saying hello.

I role my eyes. If she were ayone else I can assure I would've done much worse, but can you blame me for being a little cranky? I just got off of a six hour flight and I suffered through baggage claim. Do you know how many people have the exact same Louis tote as me? That's why I normally try to restrain my belongings to a carry on, but, hey, I was away for the whole summer at my family's French townhouse!

"No Lee, I did not magically become extremely charming over the summer hence, no, I did not meet any French boys." Okay maybe I'm exaggerating a little bit. Well not really, I seriously do lack in the charm department. Let's just say I'm seventeen and I have yet to have my first kiss.

"Excuse me, Ms. Cranky pants. Let's get you unpacked quickly because we have to do our annual pre-first day shopping." Leah grabbed my other tote from the trunk of the taxi and dragged me into my house."

"Saylor, hon, how are you? How was the townhouse looking?" My mother greets me with a long, awkward embrace and I realize that she's only putting on this motherly act because clients of my father are here. "You remember Mr. and Mrs. Hemings, right dear? Tiffany, Marcus, this is our daughter, Saylor."

Yep, trying to impress the clients.

"Hi, nice to see you again, Mr. and Mrs. Hemings." I put on the act too, just to appease my mother.

"Oh, Saylor, hi! I feel like the last time I saw you, you and Bradley were rolling around in diapers!" Mrs. Hemings says so motherly and lovingly, something that I'm definitely not used to with my mother. And she's right. Her son, Brad Hemings, is the boyfriend to the infamous Ami Boster and one of my classic tourmentors. No shit, I haven't wanted to see him since the diaper days.

I just smile in response and go up the stairs to meet Leah who had already made her way up to my bedroom.

The good thing about being an only child is that I get the whole third floor to myself. The bad thing about being an only child is that I get the whole third floor to myself meaning that I have to hike up and down two flights of stairs all the time.

I enter my bedroom and see Leah aready putting things away with the help of my housekeeper, Mayna.

"Ms. Saylor! How was your trip?" Mayna greets me with a sincere hug unlike my mother. Me and Mayna are extremely close--she basically raised me.

"Great, Mayna! It was a good escape from reality. How was your summer?"

"Fabulous, but your mother kept me busy for sure!" Mayna replies in her thick Polish accent.

"So why don't you take a break now? Me and Leah can handle this."

"Are you sure, Ms. Saylor?"

I nod in response and Mayna gleefully skips from my bedroom.

Like I knew she would, Leah verbally attacks me as soon as Mayna is out of earshot, "HOW DID YOU NOT SCHMOOZE? Those are the parents of the hottest boy in our school for Christ's sake and I heard you barely acknowledge them! You should be thanking the two of them for producing such a beautiful creature as Brad Hemings!!"

"Thank them for creating my *worst enemy* you mean?"

"Oh, quit exaggerating!" She says, but she knows I'm right. Bradley and all of the "Sexy Six" are awful to me. Thankfully they don't bother Leah. Because if they started picking on her I would never forgive myself. I would feel as if I were the reason that she were brought down to my level on the social pyramid.

"Come on, let's hurry up so we can go shopping." I say and she seems to speed up a bit with new motivation.

Five hours later and at least two thousand dollars poorer, me and Leah decide to move on from the mall and get some free stuff from Eleanor's, perks of being the daughter of the owner I suppose.

I'm looking through the new arrivals rack when I hear her voice.

Ami Boster accompanied by her little minions, or as I like to call them, the gangly whores.

"Oh look who it is girls, the cow, Saylor" Ami says.

How original.

"If you were thinking of buying that, fatty, you just shouldn't," Clara, aka, gangly whore number one says while pointing to the beautiful garment in my hand, "It's not your color."

"Not her color? Try not her style, C. Perhaps a sack would look better on you. Just make sure that it also covers your face." And there's Leighton, gangly whore number two.

"You're probably only shopping here because it's free and you can't afford to go anywhere else." Ami says but she knows it's not true. My family is richer than all these girls's familes put together, and that's saying something because they're pretty wealthy too.

Through all of this I say nothing. I've learned to just keep my mouth shut. It's better not to engage with Ami because talking back just gets her fired up. I don't know how, but as usual Ami and her minions have just turned my decent day into an awful one.

"Hey Clara, how are you girls doing with the shopping?--oh look who decided finally return to White Oak." Tommy Clark is boy toy of gangly whore number one, Clara, or is she number two? I'm losing track of my gangly whores!

And like my theory states, here comes Wyatt Whister and Bradley Hemings.

Oh yes, my theory. The Seaver Three Musketeers Law of Life. Yep. If one of those it-boys shows up, the other two are bound to be right around the bend. Not once has this law failed.

"Hey, it's my least favorite senior!" Wyatt says.

Then Bradley butts in, "wow, I have to give you props, I never thought you would come back. I thought that whole 'trip to France' thing was a way to escape us." Then he shoots me a wink. A wink.

"She could never stay away from you, baby, we all know about that little crush she has on you. Or should I say unhealthy obsession." Ami Boster shoots an accomplished smirk my way and I roll my eyes at her, but that's when I notice the look that crosses Brad's face, almost like embarassment.

Is he really embarrassed that his girlfriend thinks I have a crush on him?

Weird.

With that Leah shoots a glance my way and we both head out the back entrance (yet another perk of being the daughter of the owner) and escape my worst nightmares.

Oh now I really can't wait for the first day of school...not. I should just be back in France.