LIFE AS AN EX-REALITY TV SHOW CONTESTANT

~ Chapter One- First Day (Gwen) ~

This is my first TDI fan fiction (in case that’s not obvious enough), but I love this show, and I love to write and improve. Please feel free to leave comments at the bottom. I will read and try to improve from them. I hope to continue this so look out for chapter two!

[GWEN]

Normally, the first day back to high school would be a nightmare for me. Especially at Lake Ontario High School, home of the “Rabid Beavers” sports team (which, by the way, hasn’t won a game for three years). It was also home of the meanest teachers, worst curriculums, and most inedible cafeteria food in the province. Oh, and don’t even get me STARTED on the popular girls. And to top it all off, my three best friends- Marilyn, Pixie Corpse, and Reaper- were all gone for one reason or another. If it weren’t for one thing, I’d probably either stay home for the rest of the year or- dare I say it- head back to Camp Wawanawkwa. I gulped down the rest of my toast- another thing I hated about school, the whole ten minutes I got to eat before running for the bus- before shouting a goodbye to my mom, grabbing my far-too-heavy backpack, and dashing out the door. Oh, right, the one thing that was making me go back to high school this year. Well, that was the discovery of a few people who’d gotten transferred to my school- a few of my closest friends from the island. “Hey! Gwen!” One of them was Trent. I ran to his side, panting from the two-block run between my house and the bus stop. “I hope… I’m not… too late…” I apologized, still trying to catch my breath. “We’ve still got two minutes until the bus comes.” Trent assured me, smiling. Once I started breathing normally, I looked up at the friends I wasn’t sure I’d see again after escaping from Chris’s sadistic game. LeShawna, Trent, Geoff, Bridgette, and DJ had all been transferred from the other nearby high school to Lake Ontario High this year, and I couldn’t be happier. As we all chatted, finding out what everyone else had been doing since the end of Total Drama Island, a few other people started arriving at our bus stop, keeping a slight distance from us, but staring. I wondered if it was because they recognized us from the show, or just because of my gothic attire. I didn’t have much time to wonder, though, since the bus arrived just then.

“Ninth graders, your homeroom assignments are in the cafeteria.” The principal announced over the speaker as we arrived at the school. “Tenth graders, your homeroom assignments are in the gym. Eleventh graders, your homeroom assignments are in the office…” “I guess that’s us.” DJ shrugged, leading us through the sea of teenagers. I silently thanked my lucky stars I’d found such a muscular friend- last year, I would’ve been crushed in this madness. We crowded into the office with all the other eleventh-graders, fighting towards the homeroom assignments. “I think I see us.” Trent eventually commented, stretching towards one of the papers. “Room 216.” “All of us?” Bridgette asked, giving Geoff a quick glance. I silently wondered what would happen to them if they were to be separated more than about an hour. “Yeah.” Trent replied, resulting in a silent sigh of relief from Bridgette. “Actually,” he continued, “it looks like we’re not the only ex-campers in Room 216.” “Really?” I pushed towards the front and glanced at the sheet of paper. Trent was right- I saw Izzy, Harold, Justin, Beth, and Lindsay’s names written there before I got shoved out of the way, only being saved from cracking my head open on the wall by Trent conveniently standing behind me. “Well, then, 216 awaits.” LeShawna commented, grabbing my arm and pulling me through the madness.

The names I’d seen weren’t even half of it. It was only 7:45, and there were already fifteen of us from the show. Along with my friends and the five I’d seen on the homeroom sheet already, there was Noah reading in the back of the room; Eva sitting on her own, glaring at anyone who seemed to be thinking of talking to her; Tyler talking to Lindsay, apparently trying to remind her who he was again; and Owen, sneaking out a snack from his backpack. “It looks like pretty much everyone from TDI is in this homeroom!” Geoff cheered, seeming pleased that he’d be able to invite all his old dudes over for a party. “Let’s hope it’s ALMOST everyone.” LeShawna growled under her breath. I nodded, knowing we were both thinking of Heather. Before I could reply, Izzy popped up in front of me, her usual insane grin on her face. “HI GWEN!” She greeted me louder than she needed to. “Good to see you, I missed seeing you, did you miss me? I really missed you since I was running from the RCMP over the summer and if I’d known where you lived I could’ve visited you and hid from them! Yeah, eventually my parents decided to move so they would stop chasing me, so we came here and now I go to this school, but you probably knew that since I’m here, huh?” “Uhh… yeah… hi, Izzy.” I replied, backing away from her. She definitely hadn’t changed. Trent grabbed my hand, pulling me away from the psychotic Izzy, who was now jabbering away to LeShawna. “I guess she’s still the Izzy we know and love.” He laughed. I smiled, thinking to myself what a great boyfriend I had. As Izzy chatted incessantly to all of us (not seeming to know we were all pretty much ignoring her), I watched as some of the other people in our homeroom came in, a lot of them from the island. Katie and Sadie, wearing matching back-to-school outfits, skipped in. Cody entered and started chatting with Harold about some sort of new gadget he’d gotten. Some girl I didn’t recognize, with glasses and somewhat wavy brown hair, flopped down at a desk, smirking like the cat that swallowed the canary. Another girl I didn’t know sat on her own in the corner, glancing up at everyone once in a while, but mostly working on something in a book- I don’t know why, but something about her scared me. A boy, wearing a red sweater and glasses, wrote in a journal while another boy, seemingly Asian and wearing a gold necklace, talked nonstop to him. Shockingly, I even saw Ezekiel stumble awkwardly into the room- I guess his doctor prescribed human interaction for him. Just as I began to get bored, another one of my friends came in. “Duncan!” I called out, waving him over. Giving me his usual smirk, he strolled over. Duncan hadn’t changed- same old skull shirt, green Mohawk, goatee, and piercings. Although, as I thought of the piercings, I could see he’d gotten another eyebrow piercing. Oh, and pierced his lip. A little part of me wondered how Courtney would react to that if she was here. “Didn’t know you guys came here.” He remarked, flopping down on the desk next to me and Trent. “Didn’t know you’d be able to get out of Juvie to come to school.” I retorted, smirking. “Ouch.” Duncan laughed, feigning pain from my comment. “So, uh… how was your summer?” Trent asked, obviously a little uncomfortable around Duncan. “Not good, not bad.” He commented, shrugging. “Went home, threw rocks at people’s windows, clogged up the city fountain with my dad’s hairpieces, got chewed out by him about it, got some more piercings to retort, got moved to this school since I was expelled from the other one.” “Yeah, so, nothing eventful.” I commented sarcastically, rolling my eyes. “Exactly.” He replied with an equally sarcastic tone. “So, you didn’t see Courtney?” Trent asked. Duncan flinched for a fraction of a second. “No. But, it’s not like I care.” He quickly retorted, trying to cover up his only weakness- an undying passion for Courtney. “SURE you didn’t.” I laughed, but the glare Duncan gave me as a result shut me up pretty quickly. As I looked away- a natural reaction if you look him in the eye when he’s mad- I caught something out of the corner of my eye. It was none other than Courtney, strolling into the room. Before I could turn around and mention it, Duncan was already over there; Courtney lifted upside-down onto his shoulder. “Nice to see you, Princess.” Duncan commented casually, which, I’ll admit, was hard to do considering the un-casual position he had her in. “Wha-what?” Courtney stammered, staring kind of blankly at everyone- actually, I think she was kind of in shock. “PUT ME DOWN! I CAN’T THINK!” She finally demanded. Duncan did so, but still had a kind of ‘She still digs me’ smirk on his face. “…So…” she commented, sitting down in one of the desks near the rest of us as she got her bearings. “…all of you go to this school?” “Yeah.” Trent explained quickly, most likely knowing Duncan would put too much of a sarcastic spin on the simple answer. “We didn’t know you did.” “Well, my dad got transferred to this province over the summer.” She explained, giving Duncan a quick glare as he sat on top of her desk. “Figures no one told me until AFTER I’d gotten back from the island.” She then glanced back at Duncan. “How did YOU get out of Juvie to come here?” “I already told that joke.” I commented, raising my hand. Courtney rolled her eyes jokingly. She hadn’t changed much. “It looks like almost everyone from the island is in this homeroom.” Trent commented, looking around at our old camp-mates. “Yup.” I agreed. “Everyone except-” Heather entered almost on cue. I could tell she’d gotten a new black wig, since it was better fitting and more natural-looking than her old one. She wore a white, button-up shirt with the top few buttons undone, a tight black skirt, and black shoes with slight heels. She was flanked by a girl with long, bright red hair in a ponytail, green eyes, a bright green, single- sleeved shirt, white denim shorts, and new black-and-white sneakers. Another girl also followed Heather, with her long, dark brown hair hanging over her shoulders; she wore a dark blue tank top, tight blue jeans, and blue sandals. I wasn’t really surprised that Heather had a group like her alliance back home. “Well.” Heather half growled. “If it isn’t Gwen. I didn’t know YOU came to this school.” “Yeah, well, seems everyone from the island ended up here somehow.” I growled back. “Nice to meet you!” The redhead chirped. Heather turned around and smacked her upside the head. “NO! Bad Daisy. Gwen is BAD.” She hissed. “Ohh.” Daisy commented, having a freakish resemblance to Lindsay at that moment. She then turned back to me. “Grrr.” Just as I was about to retort with a few choice swear words, the teacher stormed in. “Everybody, TAKE A SEAT!” She shouted, sending a few of the meeker students practically flying into the nearest desk. Heather, on the other hand, simply glared at me and strutted to a seat, taking Daisy and the brown-haired girl with her. The teacher moved to her desk and grabbed a stack of papers. “Listen up. I’m Ms. Spettrale, and I teach math. It’s the first day back, and I’m just as happy about it as you are. So sit down, shut up, do what I say, and we can co-exist peacefully.” “Oh, this is gonna be a fun year.” I mumbled to Trent. “ Now, when I call your name, come up and get your schedule. It’ll have your classes, teachers, room numbers, plus your locker and combination. Once you have it, take your stuff, go to your locker, come back, and sit quietly until first period. OR ELSE.” She added, glaring. She then looked down at the schedules and started calling off names. “Izzy. Cody. Harold. Noah. Duncan. Daisy. Lindsay. Beth…” Izzy actually smiled and waved at the woman, resulting in a glare. Cody avoided eye contact. Harold attempted a friendly smile, but he got glared at too, so he just ran off. Noah just gave his usual uncaring stare. Duncan got a glare, and he glared right back. Daisy smiled stupidly as she got her schedule. Lindsay stared at the teacher like a deer staring at a shotgun. Beth gave a fearful smile and walked off as quickly as possible. “Trent. Heather. Emily. Courtney. Geoff. Bridgette. Ezekiel. Gwen…” Trent just gave his usual friendly smile, and I swear because of it, Ms. Spettrale muttered to him, “I don’t like you.” Heather glared right back at her before taking her schedule. Emily- Heather’s brown-haired follower- took it without a word or glance. Courtney smiled nervously, looking like she’d run out of there screaming if she weren’t so calm. Geoff and Bridgette barely seemed to notice her, staring at each other. Ezekiel took his actually shaking, and I heard the teacher comment, “You have a REALLY weird name. What were your parents thinking?” I just took mine calmly, trying not to make eye contact, before heading out to my locker. I headed over to my locker, number 288. On one side of my locker was DJ; I didn’t have anyone on my other side yet. I entered my combination carefully and correctly, yet the locker wouldn’t open. Frustrated, I kicked it, and the locker door creaked open. This was going to be an interesting year, all right. As I shoved stuff into the locker- another thing I hated about our school, the lockers were so small you could barely fit a book in them- I heard someone come up on my other side and open up that locker. When I somehow got everything I didn’t need into it, I closed the door, I turned to see who my other locker-buddy was, only to find that I didn’t even come up to their shoulder. I looked up to see a girl, about six feet tall, with glasses and a light-brown ponytail. She glanced over at me, and though part of my brain was telling me to say hello to her, the other half was still in shock from her height. “Yeah, yeah, I know, I’m tall.” She grumbled, grabbing a binder and heading back to our homeroom- I was shocked that I hadn’t noticed her before now. Regaining my senses, I grabbed my own binder and headed back to homeroom.

Trent slipped me his schedule as I sat down next to him. I smiled at him as thanks, then pulled out my own for comparison. Sure enough, we were in all the same main classes- math, science, English, and history- the only difference being that I was taking art in comparison to him taking band, my taking French and his taking Spanish, and us having PE on different days. I slid his schedule back to him and gave him a thumbs-up. He smiled back. “Attention students, morning announcements will now begin.” The principal’s voice announced over the intercom. “Welcome back to Lake Ontario High School, home of the Rabid Beavers, for another great year.” “Yeah, right.” Ms. Spettrale muttered just loud enough that I could hear. “Today’s lunch special is Mystery Meat with a side of fries, or the vegetarian option, Meatless Mystery with a side of fries.” Trent and I glanced at each other. On a positive note, I guess it was good the cafeteria didn’t play favorites… “Also, ninth graders will have an introductory assembly in the library first and second period, so the library will be closed for these periods. That is all. Have a good day, and at the bell, you may proceed to first period.” “Pfft. ‘Have a GOOD day.’ Riiight.” Ms. Spettrale groaned as the bell rang and we all began to exit. “If they really wanted me to have a good day, they’d fire me.”

“All-righty, everyone up against the front wall, okay?” The science teacher chirped, pointing towards the front in case any of us were stupid enough not to know which way it was. Our science teacher was short- only about five feet- with short, fiery red hair, big blue eyes, had science goggles on and at the ready, and wore a white, somewhat stained lab coat over a plain black shirt and old jeans. “Thanks. Well, welcome to science everyone! I’m Miss Roux, and I’m going to be your teacher, if that isn’t obvious enough.” She giggled. Anyway, when I call your name, please take a seat where I point.” I looked around at my classmates. There were fifteen of us, half the kids from homeroom, and eleven of us were ex-campers from TDI. Weird- we could’ve been neatly divided into Gophers and Bass, though we weren’t. Other than me, there was Trent, Ezekiel, Noah, Bridgette, Geoff, DJ, Duncan, Courtney, Harold, and Cody- a strange and somewhat random mix of Gophers and Bass. “Cody, Geoff, and Ezekiel, at this table…” Miss Roux began, motioning to the front table. “Samantha, Harold, and Duncan, you’re at the one behind them…” Samantha, it turned out, was the six-foot girl I’d met earlier. I felt almost bad for Harold- stuck between Duncan, who hated him, and Samantha, who was so tall it was scary. “Andrea, Hannah-” “My name is HAN!” One of the girls- the one from homeroom who had seemed quite happy about one thing or another- shouted in a voice that hat a slight Boston accent. “Oh, sorry.” Miss Roux apologized, surprisingly unfazed. “Andrea, Han, and Christin at this center table…” This table was all girls I didn’t know. Andrea was a somewhat tall, dark-haired, light-skinned girl wearing a maroon turtleneck, jeans, old sneakers, and glasses, her nose buried in a book. “Han” wore a grey hoodie, old, ripped jeans, and sneakers that looked like she’d beaten them up. Christin was short, with short, wavy black hair, skin as pale as a sheet of paper, and big hazel eyes. She wore a dark green sweater, jeans, and tennis shoes that looked like they’d seen better days, but weren’t dying yet. She held some sort of notebook close to her chest, like she was trying to hide it, or hide behind it. Though she seemed more than harmless, there was something about her that scared me. “Noah, Gwen, and Trent, at this table…” She said, standing near a table towards the right of the room. I walked over and took my seat in the middle. I was next to Noah, yes, but I was also next to Trent. It could be much worse. “…and, DJ, Bridgette, and Courtney, behind them.” The three took their spots at the last table. My guess was that we were in alphabetical order by last name, but considering our teacher’s personality so far, it wasn’t too far-fetched to think that she’d placed us randomly. “So.” Miss Roux stated, taking her place at the front of the room and clapping her hands together. “Let’s get started!”

Our first half of the day was pretty uneventful. Science had just been Miss Roux explaining the rules of class, with most explanations starting with “It’d be good if you…” or “I’d like it if you…” After that, Trent had gone off to music class and me to art, which was taught by Mr. Jordan, a soft-spoken man who was eager to learn what we could do and answer any questions we had. The first half of the period, Mr. Jordan went over what we’d be doing over the year, and the second half, he allowed us to ask him questions about himself. By the end of the period, I knew he was 26, lived just outside of town in a little house on a hill, had two cats and several fish when he was a kid and now had a cat named Jiji, who was named by his sister, that his sister was about two years older than him and is an artist, and he was inspired to teach art after she gave him an art lesson during his first year in high school. Before I left, he told me he and his sister watched TDI, and that his sister is a big fan of mine. I could tell already that I would like this class. Third period was math, with none other than Ms. Spettrale. We were seated in the same way as in science, and Ms. Spettrale had told us outright that we would be seated alphabetically, so that assured me Miss Roux hadn’t randomly seated us. Just like science, we went over rules and expectations, but instead of Miss Roux’s gentle “Please do this instead of this”, Ms. Spettrale’s was more like, “Don’t do this. Don’t do this. Don’t do this either. Oh, and don’t make me mad, otherwise the principal may find your corpse in a locker.” “So far, we have some really weird teachers.” I commented as Trent, LeShawna, Duncan, Courtney, and I walked to the cafeteria for lunch period. “Girl, if you think that’s bad, wait ‘till you see the PE teachers.” LeShawna ranted. “I’m telling you, they almost as crazy as Chris and Chef. Almost.” “Anyone here desperate enough to try the Mystery Meat?” Duncan teased, glancing around the group. “Ugh, don’t.” I groaned. “I made that mistake back in ninth grade. I actually had to stay home sick the next day.” “What about the Meatless Mystery?” Courtney asked. “Haven’t tried it. Don’t plan to.” We entered the cafeteria, bustling with activity- after all, this was pretty much the only time of day we could actually socialize. Everyone except Duncan had brought a lunch, so we sat down at a table. Duncan, turned off the Mystery Meat, sat there without eating until Courtney pitied him and gave him some of her lunch (and considering his smirk afterwards, I’m guessing that’s what he planned all along). As we ate and chatted- mostly LeShawna warning us about the teachers we hadn’t had yet, Duncan flirting with Courtney, and Courtney smacking him after each comment- I looked around at some of the new table arrangements. At the table next to us were Samantha, Andrea, Han, Christin, and the two boys from homeroom. Across from them were Heather, Daisy, and Emily, settled at a table of their own. Behind us were DJ, Geoff, Bridgette, Ezekiel, Owen, and Izzy. So far, there didn’t really seem to be a rhythm or rhyme to the seating, but I knew from experience that there soon would be. All of a sudden I heard someone scream, “THERE’S WHITE STUFF IN MY MILK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” I could have sworn every head in the cafeteria whipped to the table next to us- where the scream had come from- and the next thing I saw was a milk carton flying through the air. Before I could comprehend what was going on, the milk carton had come down on the worst place possible- Heather’s head. Everything grew dead silent. First of all, Heather was covered in milk. Secondly, the milk carton had knocked off her wig, revealing her bald head to the entire school. And thirdly, it was more than obvious who had thrown the milk carton at her- Han was just across from her table, facing her, and had obviously let out the scream. Heather slowly turned around, grabbed her wig from the ground, stuck it on, and marched for Han. Or so I thought, until I followed her gaze and made the connection. Han didn’t seem guilty at all- she was staring right up at Heather, not fearful in the least. Opposite Han, and closer to Heather, was Christin, facing away from her, head down, and scribbling away in her notebook. I stared in slight shock as Heather grabbed Christin by the shoulder and forced her around. Christin’s hazel eyes were obviously scared- I’m sure Heather thought it was out of guilt, but I could tell it was just because she had no idea what was going on, lost in her notebook during the events. “Since this is your first offense,” Heather growled, saying each word slowly to keep herself from blowing up, “I will go easy on you. Just apologize, and I will forget this ever happened.” Christin stared blankly at Heather, only to ask meekly, “What am I apologizing for, exactly?” Heather closed her eyes and growled a little, and I could tell she was trying really hard not to rip Christin’s head off and eat it. “Apologize,” she slowly hissed, “for throwing that milk at me.” Christin merely blinked. “But… that wasn’t me.” “APOLOGIZE!!!!” Heather shouted, beginning to lose her temper. I almost wanted to run over and defend the meek girl, but I knew if I sided with her, Heather would hate her even more. “I didn’t do it.” Christin insisted again. “That wasn’t my fault.” “Yeah, it was me, stupid.” Han agreed, standing up and getting right into Heather’s face. “Oh, is that right?” Heather hissed. “And how do I know this isn’t just you trying to save your friend’s butt?” “Uh, the fact that it was MY SCREAM?” “That doesn’t necessarily mean you threw it.” Heather retorted. “It only means you screamed.” “Believe what you want.” Han growled, sitting down again and glaring at Heather. “Stupid little…” “I’ll give you one last chance. APOLOGIZE.” Heather growled at Christin. “Han is right. It wasn’t me. I didn’t do anything to you.” Christin feebly insisted, clutching her notebook closer to her, trying to hide behind it again. As Heather’s eyes flicked to it, I knew Christin had made a huge mistake. “Well, well. What’s this?” Heather chirped, a cruel curiosity in her voice. Christin’s eyes flicked down to it as well, realizing what Heather was planning. “It’s nothing important.” She insisting, trying to hide it behind her now. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that.” Heather laughed, snatching it out of Christin’s hands and flipping through it. “Oh, how CUTE.” She sneered. “A little sketchbook. It looks like you put a lot of work into this…” she laughed, strolling back to her table. She stood at her table, right over the spilled milk, and held it out with one hand. “…It’d be a SHAME if it were to be ruined.” Christin stared at her in complete, dead shock. “No.” She muttered quietly. “Please don’t.” “Apologize for what YOU did, and I’ll give it back.” Heather replied, holding the sketchbook dangerously over the milk. Christin had no reply. “Oh, but you DIDN’T DO IT, right?” She stretched her arm out further, the book dangling from her hand. “Please don’t.” Christin quietly begged again. “I’ve been working on it all summer. It’s my best work. I was going to use it as reference for art school…” “Oopsie…” Heather chirped, taking a single finger off the sketchbook. That did it. As an artist myself, I knew threatening to ruin a sketchbook was a step too far even for Heather. Before I was even sure what I was doing, I was up in Heather’s face, yanking the sketchbook from her loosened grip. The force of it was just enough to send her toppling backwards into the spilled milk. “YOU need to step off.” I snapped, handing the sketchbook back to its owner. She took it gratefully and hid behind me, scared of Heather’s inevitable wrath. Heather raised a hand to retort, but then noticed something that practically made me puke- a strange, sticky white blob, clinging to her arm. The silence of the cafeteria was filled with her disgusted scream. “I told you there was white stuff in my milk.” Han muttered to the Asian boy. The lunch bell rang then, and people scurried out of the cafeteria like it was on fire.

I walked near Christin as we walked back to class, knowing Heather would pounce if she found the meek girl alone. She barely noticed me, flipping through her sketchbook to make sure all was well with it. As she did, I peeked at her work. She was really talented, drawing in a realistic, graphic-novel style as opposed to my more cartoony style. “You’re really good.” I commented, bringing my existence to her knowledge. Embarrassed, she closed the sketchbook and clutched it to her chest. “T-thanks...” She stammered quietly, looking away. “…and, uh, thanks for sticking up for me at lunch.” “Not a problem.” I assured her. “That was low, even for Heather.” Heather passed by us then, still covered in milk and glaring at us. Once she’d left, I offered Christin my hand. “I’m Gwen Raven, by the way.” Christin smiled and shook my hand. “Christin McClean.” She replied. At that point, I lurched backwards so hard I’m lucky I didn’t kill myself. “WOAH, WHOA, WOAH!” I exclaimed, in total shock. “Christin MCCLEAN? As in CHRIS MCCLEAN???” I tried to imagine Chris, or as I thought of him, The Great Torturer, settled down with a teenage daughter… and failed. “Umm, yeah.” Christin replied, a little confused by my freak-out. “He’s my uncle.” “Ohh. Uncle.” I calmed down a little once she explained this. “Sorry, thought he was your dad for a minute there, kind of freaked out.” “I guess that would be kind of creepy, huh…” Christin laughed. “JUUUST a little.” I commented sarcastically.

The rest of the day was pretty uneventful. History with Mrs. Guerre (where we went over rules and expectations), French with Ms. Langue (where we went over rules and expectations), and English with Mr. Leitura (where, you guessed it- we went over rules and expectations). Our only homework was to get a bunch of papers (about none other than rules and expectations… I hate the first day back) signed by our parents/guardians. The only eventful part of the day was the milk-and-stuff-in-milk-on-Heather-thing, which everyone was still silently laughing about (except me and my group, who were laughing out loud all day). Actually, the highlight of my day was talking with Christin- by the end of the day, I knew she’d just turned 16 over the summer, hoped to go to art college, and was the only child of a single mother, who was now working over in a foreign country until next summer, so she was staying with none other than “Uncle McClean” for the year (which creeped me out to think he lived nearby). Although, honestly, it was weird to think that she was related to him- she was soft spoken, kind, and disliked pain and cruelty- Chris’s total opposite. Eventually, we were all sitting outside the school, waiting for our rides or starting to walk home. Trent and LeShawna sat with me and Christin as we talked (Christin’s friends had already left on their bus), Duncan continued to flirt with Courtney (only to be slapped after each comment), Geoff and Bridgette stared dumbly at each other, and DJ sat off to the side, watching a bird in a tree. “So, what’s it like down in the states?” Trent asked Christin as we waited for our bus. We’d learned earlier that Christin usually lived down in California, but came up to Canada to stay with “Uncle McClean”. “Well, it’s usually really warm down in California.” She described. “And there’s lots of buildings and beaches.” “Are there really palm trees down there?” I asked. “Oh, yeah. You can’t go a mile without seeing one.” “Hollywood’s in California, right?” LeShawna asked, smiling. “You ever see a movie star?” “Once, actually.” “Really?” I asked incredulously. “What’d you say?” “Well, I didn’t realize until after I got home that he was a movie star, so I just asked if he knew where the bus stop was.” Christin admitted, blushing. We all burst out laughing, but we were interrupted by a loud honk. Our heads all whipped towards a strangely fancy car among the row of cars picking up their kids, with none other than a T.O’d Chris McClean at the wheel. “I think my ride’s here.” Christin commented meekly, giving a quick goodbye smile before running for the car and giving her “Uncle McClean” a wave. He gave her a glare, though, so she stopped and just climbed into the car. “I almost feel bad for Christin.” I chuckled as I watched the shiny car turn and drive away. “Why? A ride with Chris is better than one on our bus.” LeShawna rationalized. Almost on cue, our poor excuse for a school bus clanked up and creaked its door open for us. “If this is what the rest of the year is going to be like, it’s gonna be a really crazy year.” I laughed as I climbed aboard the beaten-down bus to home.

CHAPTER 1 END