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I despise art class.
Contrary to popular belief, I'm actually a pretty good student. I know, right? But honestly, I need to get into a good university. And art is the only class where I can't listen. Because a certain Stacey Kingston uses class as a gossip session.
"And that Winnie kid, I mean, ew. Who names their kid Winnie, you know? It's like that baby show. Winnie."
"Winnie the Pooh," I mutter.
"Sorry?"
"Poor kid," I say.
"Not really. I mean, her whole name is like, Winifred or something. It's not Winnie."
"It's not like she can go by Fred, though, is it? The name's pretty bad in general."
"Oh, yeah, you got a point. Hey, what's this one's name?"
Did I mention that Stacey has files on every student on her iPod touch?
"Well, this is her file, right? You tell me."
"Danielle Blue."
"Blue?" I laugh despite myself.
"She's pretty." Stacey's voice has taken on a dangerous edge. I grab the iPod. Ooh, she's right. Gotta set this straight.
"Are you shitting me? Her complexion makes her look like a peach. Her lower lip sticks out a fraction of an inch too much for men to consider her readily kissable. Her eyes are two close together as well."
"You think she's pretty."
"Excuse me, didn't I just totally diss her?"
"But you don't swear." Stacey glares at the screen. "She's in your Science class. Bring her to the lounge after school. You can swing that?"
"Yup," I say, popping my P. Fun.
As we walk out of the class, I angle toward the brunette that Stacey's got a grudge against.
"Danielle?" I ask. She looks toward me, her head slightly lowered. Poor girl. She's not even moderately popular, by the looks of things, which means no one to bounce back on.
... Whatever. She's a freak.
"L... Lianna Du... Duciel," she stutters.
Freak.
"Hey, can I call you Dani?"
"No one's ev-ever given me a ni... nickname before."
Poor- Can't. Freak.
"Well, there's a first for everything, right? Come on. I've got something to show you."
"M-me?"
"Of course, silly!" I laugh. "It's in the lounge."
I listen to her stutter a thanks, but I'm distracted. Bryony Whitall is walking down the hall. No one likes her, but she's mega-rich, so she's popular anyway. Not as popular as I am, but her popularity is constant. I catch her eye, smirk, nod toward Danielle and pout a finger to my lips. She smirks back and walks past me.
"Lounge?" she whispers.
"Yup," I say, with my signature P popping. I open the lounge door and pull her in. I walk her to the other end of the room. As the door swings closed, Stacey is revealed to be behind it.
"Danielle," she begins, striding towards us with a cigarette in her hand. She takes a puff. "Danielle Blue." She twirls the cigarette as though it's a baton. That girl has mad skills.
