West Coast

Chapter 2: Amalia

"Are you ready for school, Babe?" My mom asks me, sipping her morning martini and scrolling through her iPhone. She looks up at me and her jaw drops a little bit. "Is that what you're wearing?" She gasps.

"Yeah?" I mutter. "Why?" 

Mom places her glass on the table next to her cell phone and approaches me slowly. She grabs hold of my tank top and rubs the material between her fingers. "Sweetie. Why don't you stay home today so we can go shopping. Then you can look perfect for your first day!"

I laugh a little. "No, mom. I'm fine." 

"Whatever." She settles and tosses me a pair of car keys. "Take the Mercedes."

"Okay."

Looking at the parking lot of Sunset Beach High School, I see luxury car after luxury car. Some of them with surf boards in the back seats, others with top notch leather seats. And past the vehicles, kids. Teens- boys, girls. All exactly alike. And all nothing like me. As I pass through the masses of them, I hold my bag close to my chest and try to ignore the stares.

I understand what they're thinking. Must be the new girl. Where did she find that terrible shirt? That bag is definitely not a Kate Spade. Is that a bad nose job, or was she born that way? But I don't care. 

"Hey! New girl." An anonymous source calls from across the hallway. I pull my schedule out of my binder and try to figure out what class I have first period. All if these classes sound ridiculous- Humanities, Journalism, Philosophy. Does anyone take academics seriously around here? I guess since they all have trust funds to get them through college, that they don't need to learn or try in school. 

Maybe since my mom is loaded, I can take it easy and chill here. Maybe a fresh new start is just what I've needed all along. Especially while I'm still coping with my father's passing. 

"That's a really cute bracelet." I look up and see an insanely tall girl standing in front of me. I question her height in my head until I see that she's poised upon 5 inch heels. 

I grin a little. Finally someone's being nice to me.  "Oh, thanks! I actually ma-"

"Uh, I was kidding." She smirks. "That thing looks like a noose." She laughs a little bit. 

"Wow. Five minutes here and I've already met a bitch." I immediatley decide to not let any of these rich kids walk on top of me. "So, if you'll just leave me alone-"

"Actually." She gets a pesky look in her eyes and I pause. "You seem really interesting, New Girl." She bites her lip excitedly. "Do you want me to show you around town?"

"That depends. Are you going to dump a latte on my head?"

The girl laughs a little bit. "Nah. Everyone at this school has gone soft. No one knows how to really party anymore. You seem like a girl who can handle your liquor."

"Is that a metaphor or something?"

"Maybe?" She looks confused and I take that as she doesn't know what exactly a metaphor is. She rips a piece of paper out of her notebook and scribbles something on it in a shimmery pink pen. "I'm Alyssandra. Meet me out front after school." And then she's gone and I'm left alone in an empty hallway. 

I look back at my schedule and look around to see where room 305 is. I could ask someone to help me, but I doubt that anyone would. Then my mind floats back to 'Alyssandra' and her cryptic messages. If I go and meet her, there's a chance that she might humiliate me in front of a large number of people. But on the other hand, if I blow her off I might loose a chance at having a friend here. 

Eventually I take the staircase up to the second floor and walk into room 305- Health Class- right as the bell rings. I slide into an empty seat in the back of the room. Once the teacher starts talking, the guy next to me taps my desk with the end of his pencil. "Hey."

"Hi." I mutter, glancing at him. I try not to make it obvious, but I think he's gorgeous. Deep brown eyes, dark shaggy curls. And a slight sprouting of a five-o-clock shadow.

He narrows his eyes at me a little quizzically. "You're new. I can tell."

"You caught me." I throw my hands up in a small surrender and that makes him chuckle. Just then, the teacher announces for everyone to pair up and a knot forms in my stomach. Those a new kid's least favorite words. 

"Need a partner?" He asks. I hesitate at first, thinking it might be a sick joke, but everyone else in the room has already gone off and this boy is the only person left anyway. What the hell. I shrug. 

"Sure." I mumble and he turns his desk to face mine.

He raises an eyebrow. "So, where'd you move here from?" I sigh a little bit. This is where it will get interesting. 

"Georgia." He looks taken by surprise. 

"Really? Why the sudden change?" He goes on. I cross my arms over my chest out of insecurity.

"My father died." He looks down, feeling defeated.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know." In the oncoming silence, I notice how the simple grey t-shirt he's wearing hugs so tightly to his impeccable figure and toned arms. The low v-neck is both scandalous and reserved at the same time. He has an expensive pair of sunglasses hanging on his shirt and his hair falls so effortlessly, yet I assume he spent at least twenty minutes perfecting it.

"It's okay. I'm managing."

He suddenly puts his palm to his forehead like he's an idiot. "Uh, I'm Sean." He says, extending his hand to me. I shake it tentatively. "And you are?"

"Amalia." I say and he looks intrigued.

"Well that's not a very 'Georgia' name." He insists. 

I smile. "Yeah, well my mother hates anything that reminds her of 'poor people lands'." I find myself explaining. He looks interested in what I have to say, which could either mean he wants to get in my pants, or he really does want to know more about me. "And to my mother, anywhere that's not Beverly Hills, is poor people land." 

"Your funny. Do you have a last name? Mine's Candor."

I push a strand of hair behind my ear. "Hemming." He instantly starts laughing again.

"Hemming. So you're Diane's kid." He concludes with another strange glance. "I'll be the first to say it, your house is probably the biggest one in the district."

"I noticed." I say superiorly. 

"How are we doing?" Mr. Landsen leans over Sean's desk and looks at our blank papers. "The assignment is due next week."

"Got it." Sean assures him confidently. "We'll work hard, I promise."

"Well that was quite kiss-ass-like of you." I suggest. 

Sean grabs my hand and starts writing on my palm. "So, my house or yours?" 

"What?" I ask, suddenly confused and scared.

"The project. We have to work outside of class to get it done. So, my house or yours?"

I let out a huge breath and think for a minute. "Well since my house is apparently so amazing, we can work there."

"Great, how about tomorrow? It's a half-day. I can drive you."

I take a deep, quiet breath. "Fine." I try and suppress a smirk as the bell rings and everyone leaves the class and deisperses into the hallway.