Young Writers Society

Dylan

There was a fight, which annoyed me more than anything else. And Claire was in the middle of it. When she disappeared, I texted her to make sure she was okay and then I just left it alone. This party really sucked for me, even the semi pleasant buzz that had built from the drink in my hand wasn't enough to make it enjoyable.

"Are you gonna stay here with Sawyer?" I asked Emma, and she nodded. I didn't want to leave her alone but at the same time I really wanted to go. Badly.

I turned to him, "If I don't see her at school tomorrow in one piece, you're dead meat." he was drunk but he managed to agree to those terms somewhat solemnly and then I left it alone. Emma was a big girl, she could take care of herself.

Then I just had to find Declan.

I started wading through the crowd, my heeled chanel boots deftly navigating the gyrating bodies and litter of solo cups on the ground. A sheen of sweat soaked my skin and I briefly thanked the make-up gods for creating waterproof foundation.

"Hey big red," said a voice in my ear. I could smell the alcohol laced in his breath as he exhaled down the back of my neck.

"Don't call me that," I ordered, spinning around.

"Come on, doesn't a real woman want to know what it's like to be with a real man? I guarantee you I'm better than any of the others who have graced your bed," he told me with the right corner of his lip tugging into a cocky and slightly sinister smile.

"According to whom?" I asked, "the ladies you hired to give you a good time? You know they'll say anything to get their nightly paycheck. Or cash, if you prefer." I was trying to distract him. You're a virgin, I thought to myself, But that's not necessarily something I'd like everyone to know.

"Laugh now, but the Upper East Side is a completely different world from Lincolnwood," he scoffed.

"How do you know what school I went to?" I asked, crossing my arms.

"You should really look at your Gossip Girl profile," he said, "But regardless. You may find yourself participating in activities," the way he said the word 'activities' made it sound almost dirty, "You never thought you would before." I thought I saw something flicker in his eyes. Regret? Sorrow? I quickly brushed that aside, it was just the buzz of the alcohol wearing off. And then August was back to his normal self.

"I'm afraid I must bid you farewell," he said, giving me a sly grin, "I'll see you around," he paused, "Big Red." And then he vanished, swallowed up by the crowd.

I turned away and continued pushing my way through the rich, drunk teenagers to find my brother. A thought occurred to me, and I started opening doors.

I finally came upon a small library filled floor to ceiling with volumes of books. Declan was perched on a window seat with a small reading lamp turned on next to him, engrossed in the secrets kept within the pages. Figures, my brother was exactly the type to go to a party and find the nearest book.

I cleared my throat and he looked up. "Oh hey, sorry, my twin-sense hasn't been working properly tonight. I can't read your mind," he joked.

"Oh boo," I said sarcastically and walked over to sit next to him.

"You good? You didn't drink a lot did you?" he asked.

"I had half a solo cup of beer," I informed him, "I wouldn't be rushing to get behind the wheel or anything but I'm also not drunk off my ass."

"Good. I just like making sure you're okay. You get that, right?" he said, patting my arm. I nodded.

"Come on, nerd, this party was a bust. Let's go home." Declan looked from his book to the gap in the bookshelf where he'd undoubtedly found it.

"Is it a first edition?" I asked. Declan held up the cover, it was a brand new copy of The Beautiful and the Damned.

"I seriously doubt anybody is going to care about an 8 dollar book missing in a library full of 8,000 dollar first editions." I reached up on the shelf and evened out the gap between the books. "Let's go." I pulled Declan out of the library and he shrugged, shoving his prize in his jacket.

Declan and I pushed ourselves through the crowd and out of the house, stepping into the cool, autumn air. I shivered a little and was glad I'd opted for tights and boots. It was one of those perfect nights with a few stars glimmering in the sky through all the smog and the crisp feeling of cool air on your skin after you've been sweating.

Declan helped me down the steps in my heeled boots and made sure I got in the town car. I leaned against the door, staring out the tinted window at the glittering lights of the house as we pulled away from the chaos and headed back home.

Jameson

I watched Claire walk away, nothing I said would make her stay and even in my drunken state my heart sank and I was worried. I just want her to feel safe and to know I am there for her. For crying out loud I am in love with her. I'd never tell her that to her face.

I'm sorry. I sent the text and stared at her name for a few more seconds, she wouldn't reply or talk to me anymore tonight.

I sat on the ground, it was wet from dew because it was late and the party was about to come to an end. Staring off into the sky I thought about my family and about how it would be a terrible mistake for someone to ever treat my little sister like Andrew treated Claire tonight. He would die no questions asked.

*****

I woke up in my bed, sitting up I checked my phone, no response from Claire even though it is already the next morning.

Claire, I told you I am sorry, won't you forgive me? I couldn't help but text her, I hated her being angry with me and not talking to me.

My hangover was very apparent even though I had school today. Skip day was what today would be. There was no way I was going to school feeling this way and especially not after what happened.

Augustus Kolbeck

Claire jumped in and we all stopped beating Andrew to a pulp. He was lucky she came up. And right after everyone had settled down, she disappeared into thin air with Jameson tailing along. I found Sawyer scanning the room, I'm assuming that he was looking for Chicago. I had already had a few words with Big Red. Oh, how I wished they were more than just a few words.

My bed is naked without her in it.

"Aye, Sawyer." I smiled and he turned, his face way too serious for how drunk we were. "Blondie probably went home." I said.

He rolled his eyes, running his hand through his hair. "There's no way she went home," I felt like there was more to what happened between them than I knew.

Raising an eyebrow, I said, "Then go look for her, you lost puppy."

Without saying anything back, he turned and disappeared into the crowd. People were still dancing to the house music that beat around us. I had no idea what time it was, but I was beat.

I decided to find my way to my room, my siblings will manage to scurry all the people away. I pushed passed the people, smiling if they acknowledged me. My head felt heavy with alcohol, proving to me it was time to drop. But before I could reach the stairs, I saw Vada, in all her evil glory.

She had on a wicked smile that was lined with red lipstick and her brown eyes were filled with determination; something you always saw in her. Even though everything was blurry, she was not.

It seemed as though she was talking to the people around her as they chugged down their beers. But nothing stopped me there. Suddenly, I wasn't tired.

"Vada," I smirked down at her.

She lifted her head, our eyes met. "Augustus," She said like a professor would. "How are you?" She eyed the rest of me.

"Oh I am doing very well, how about you?" I managed not to slur. Maybe I was sobering up?

The people she was speaking with walked away, giving us the privacy I wanted.

"I am doing well," She paused, "Your party seems to really make an impression..."

"Oh, you mean the Gossip Girl post?" I smiled. "Yeah, don't all Augustus Kolbeck parties' go crazy?"

She smiled up at me, taking a sip of her wine cooler. "If they wouldn't, I don't know if I'd be here."

"I'm very happy you showed up. Maybe I could give you the grand tour of the home?"

"Oh, what a gentleman you are."

I nodded, leading her the way up the stairs. We had to get around a few people, their faces were the picture case of drunk teenagers. I'm sure all of my fathers' good whiskey is all gone.

Jameson came running down the stairs, his eyes red. I stopped for a moment, grabbing his arm. He spun around and looked up at me.

"Are you alright?" I asked.

"I need a drink." He huffed as I let him go, someone bumping into his as they walked up the stairs.

I laughed, "You're in the right place; also, in about an hour, could you kick everyone out?"

"I'll try my best." He smiled, and walked back into the pit.

Vada took the stairs all the way up, and I followed after, feeling my heart race. I really wanted to get with her tonight, but of she wasn't into it, I wouldn't pursue anything further. But for now, it's really enjoyable to toy with her.

Vada Marie

Augustus Kolbeck was the definition of trouble. Just what I needed.

I made my way up the stairs and to his bedroom, I knew where it was from the many parties he has had in the past. My hormones were raging as I laid across his bed with my feet propped up. He stopped to talk to my ex, Jameson, whom I couldn't even look at so I just hurriedly went up the stairs.

I sprawled across August's bed and that's when his door slowly came open, luckily it was him. He stared at me in hunger, yes he was drunk but no I didn't care. We came together as one and I grasped the back of his head as we were kissing, he was amazing.

The alcohol on his breath was apparent and it was more sexier than I thought it would have been. His arms were wrapped around my back unclasping my bra.

The rest of the night was history. Blissful to say the least.

*****

The morning came and shined through my window. Somehow at some point I ended up making it home.

Hey Is, did you make it home last night? I don't even know how I got home. I texted my best friend, Isadora. She was the light of my day.

Memories of the night before were flooding my brain, August. So great. I wonder if he even remembers what happened. I wasn't nearly as drunk as he was.

Yeah, I made it. I tried looking for you last night but you were no where in sight. Isadora replied.

Ha, I was getting myself into some trouble of course.

I got up from the bed and went to the kitchen to get a drink of orange juice. It was always my hangover cure.

Today was the only time I hadn't woke up to puke, but normally I was shit faced. I looked at the time and saw it was 8:05am.

Shit. School.

I ran to my bedroom and put on my school outfit. I couldn't shower so I could only hope my strong vanilla perfume would cover up any ounce of alcohol I had on me.

Quickly I made my way to school.

Henry Campbell

Henry sighed as he pulled on the hoodie with the Princeton logo embellished on the front of the fabric. He looked himself over in the mirror. "Not gonna win any fashion competitions," he muttered to himself. Dressed in a pair of slacks, the blazer and the white collar, he threw his hoodie over all of it.

But the truth was...he wasn't talking about his clothes.

He was staring at the wrinkly and deformed skin that covered the left half of his face. The scarred tissue traveled down from his scalp to around his ankle. He sighed as he pulled up the hood, a feeble attempt to hide the marks that he had been teased about so often as a toddler.

Heading out of his room he smiled as he grabbed the paper bag lunch waiting for him on the counter. His adoptive parents were already gone. Early mornings and late nights for their family. The bright neon pink note attached to it made him feel a little better.

You got this! it read. The curvy nature of the lettering told him that it was from his mother, Cassandra. The woman had told him that it was okay if he wanted to call her by her name when they first met. It only took the first week of nightmares for him to start calling her mom.

Putting the lunch in his bag he headed out and locked the door. It was a good jog to the school, but easily manageable. It also gave Henry the excuse to exercise a little before school started.

*****************************************

He arrived about ten minutes before the first bell. Checked in to get his schedule. One of the joys of getting a late entrance into the school.

"I would like to tell you that we have a policy here. No cell phone use during class, and absolutely no browsing of Gossip Girl," the woman said.

Henry smiled as he fished out an old brick Nokia from his pocket. "I'd have to get internet for a dinosaur first," he chuckled. The woman behind the desk seemed amused by the joke, but he could see that she was trying her best not to stare.

Hood up and looking down at the schedule he was immediately stopped by some shouting. "Hey!" Henry turned. It was a teacher calling at him. "Hoodie off. We don't allow that here."

"Can there be an exception?" Henry asked gently.

"No exceptions. Hoodie off or I'll have to mark you."

Henry sighed as he slowly reached up and pulled the hoodie off. He heard the gasps all around him as students were witness to the severe scarring on his face and hand. The rest, thankfully, hidden beneath his clothes before he looked to the teacher. "Good?"

The teacher only nodded and let Henry go. He could already hear the whisperings around him. He pulled his pack up higher on his shoulders as he heard the bell. He just sighed waiting for the rumors to begin again.

Sawyer

After Big Red gave her charming threat she turned on the heel of her boot and headed out, her red curls bouncing as she fought her way through the crowd. I had to give it to her, she sure was feisty.

Reaching over towards Emma, I snaked her arm around her waist and pulled her to my side, leaning down close to her ear so she could hear me say, "Do you want to get out of here?"

She looked up at me, eyes sparkling and a cheeky grin splayed across her face as she grabbed my hand and intertwined her fingers with mine, agreeing, "Let's go."

***

"Have a good night, Shep," I called to my driver as I opened the door for Emma to let her out.

"I'll see you in the morning, sir." He replied, his eyes weary with sleep.

"Don't worry about it, go home and spend the day with your wife."

Shep gave me a tired smile and thanked me as I closed the door, speeding off down the half a mile-long driveway my parents insisted on for privacy as I grabbed ahold of Emma and led her inside the house.

"How are you going to get to school tomorrow?"

I closed the door behind us and flipped the light on, making my way over to the bar cart and pouring two glasses of whiskey from a crystal bottle while answering, "My mother is in Monaco and my father is in Washington, I'll call for one of their drivers to take us."

"Who said there's going to be an us to even take?" she said coyly, accepting the drink I handed to her.

I downed my glass and placed it back on the cart before turning towards her, silently looking her up in down and knowing full-well she could see the hunger in my eyes.

"I have nothing to wear," she argued half-heartedly.

"I have a Constance uniform you can wear." I argued back, thinking about the handful of uniforms tucked neatly in the back of my bottom drawer, "Or I can take you back home early in the morning, whichever you prefer."

Her eyebrows furrowed together as she took a long sip from her glass before asking, "What do you have Constance uniforms for?"

"Don't ask questions that you don't want to answers to, Emma." I answered back, arms crossed across my chest.

She put her glass down on the coffee table and took a few steps to close the gap between us, eyeing me up before looking me dead and the eye and asking, "Are you going to use me, Sawyer?"

"No." I replied without hesitation, almost surprising myself.

"Are you going to hurt me?" She asked next, her hands on her hips.

"I can't make any promises" I answered back honestly, searching her bright blue eyes.

"One more question," she whispered, her body so close to mine that I could feel its alcohol induced warmth. My eyes trailed down her body, following the line of her jaw to the curve of her collarbone before landing on the shadow of her cleavage.

"What is it?" I asked. I couldn't resist anymore, I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her against my body, one hand around her waist and the other pushing her hair back from her face.

"Are you going to kiss me or what?" She asked, her head turned up towards me.

I leaned in until our mouths met and gave her a gentle kiss. She responded back with hunger but I resisted, enjoying the softness of her lips against mine and the feeling of the goosebumps that pricked my skin.

***

The next morning St. Jude's and Constance Billard's was a living, breathing hangover. The school was the typical post-midweek-party quiet because no one was speaking above a whisper. That is, until Isadora breezed in. The girl had never suffered from a hangover a day in her life, not even after days of binge-drinking or a night of blacking out.

"Good morning!" She sang, intentionally being loud. The people around us glared at her as they made their way up the steps and into the school. She passed a black coffee to me and threw her arm around my shoulder, continuing with raised eyebrows, "Have fun last night?"

I took a much-needed sip of the shittiest coffee in the world and nodded. As horrible as the coffee was, after a long night of drinking the $2 tar from a tiny corner shop worked better than any $8 roast from the hipster pop-up shops.

"So who are we waiting for?" She questioned, looking out into the street as if she could see through the cars.

"No one, I'm just not ready to be suffocated inside yet." I replied, only partly joking. I was in no way ready for the long day I had ahead. My head was pounding at the very idea of sitting under fluorescent lights and being forced to listen to teachers drone on about things I would only tune out.

"How are you so peppy anyways?" I questioned, glaring at her out of envy. She offered me her own to-go cup and I took a quick sip. The liquid almost burned a hole in my throat and I had to keep myself from spitting it out, the taste of the alcohol making my stomach do backflips.

"What?" she said innocently, "You can't get hungover if you don't stop drinking! Irish coffee may be disgusting but let me tell you, it does a great job of warding off hangovers."

"You're an alcoholic!" I accused, taking a swig from my own cup to rid the putrid taste from my mouth.

"Alcoholic? Now you're speaking my kind of language." August said, coming up the steps two at a time.

"Where'd you disappear to last night, man?" I asked, squinting through the morning sun.

"Oh you know, around." he said with a wink, "How long did you stay after the fight? Did you find Chicago?"

I thought back to Emma and wondered if she had made it to school yet. We'd agreed to come separately to avoid any Gossip Girl, well, gossip.

"Yeah I found her, we didn't stay long." I answered, pulling out my phone and scanning through it for the first time since last night. There were several messages riddled with winking emojis and invites to come over from drunk girls that I hadn't even bothered to check while I was with Emma. I cleared them all and slid my phone back into the pocket of my blue blazer.

We made our way inside and as we tried to get through the front foyer we couldn't help but notice the spectacle of a boy arguing with a teacher over his hoodie. He seemed pressed to keep it on but eventually gave in and pulled it off to reveal a face that nearly made me choke on my coffee. It was so marred by burn scars that the whole half of his face was a mess of taut, pink skin.

I exchanged glances with August and Isadora's eyebrows knitted together out of curiosity before she ushered, "Come on guys, we're going to be late for class."

Right on cue, the bell rang and everyone scurried to their classrooms in a cloud of whispers.

Isadora

My friends are always joking about my affinity for alcohol, calling me an alcoholic and lovingly mocking my ability to drink without repercussions the next morning. But in all honesty, I had been drinking my whole life. Back home everyone drinks with their families from the time they're a small child and they don't stop until the hit the grave.

Not that anyone here here has much room to judge me - they all drink just as much, if not more, than I do. Sawyer can drink and entire bottle of whiskey and still be able to stand his own ground, Vada can pound ten shots of vodka and still remain coherent, and August could drink lighter fluid and still be bouncing off the walls. The only difference is that I'm willing to admit that I have a drinking problem, everyone else is too wrapped up in appearances to realize they're all a bunch of pots calling the kettle black. What does the world care anyways?

Sawyer and August starting towards the building pulled me from my thoughts and I followed them, suddenly realizing we were cutting it pretty close. Our teachers are sure to know about last night's party. Meaning, they probably aren't going to be too tolerant of us today. As we walked through the grand front entrance, Sawyer suddenly stopped.

Before I could curse at Sawyer for nearly making me run right into him I realized why he had stopped, following his gaze to a boy who was being forced to remove his hoodie. My breath caught in my throat, his disfigured features taking me off guard and I couldn't help but wonder how such a thing could happen to a person. The boy ducked his head and tried to get past unseen, suddenly making me painfully aware that we were all staring at him as if he was some kind of circus act.

"Come on guys, we're going to be late for class." I urged them along uncomfortably, trying to divert their attention. Nobody wants to be stared at and scrutinized, something we should all understand since being under Gossip Girl's thumb.

The bell rang and we all tried to make it to our classes. I quickened my pace and made it to my room, slipping down into my seat beside Vada just as the teacher was taking roll call.

"VanDeGraff?" She called, not looking up from her attendence sheet.

My hand shot up and I called back, "I'm here!"

She moved on and I immediately turned to Vada with a raised eyebrow and whispered teasingly, "And where did YOU disappear to last night young lady, hmm?"

Emma Bobek

His lips were like water, air, everything that my body needed to survive. He had his hands at my waist, lifting up my dress to touch my skin. His touch made my skin burn, begging for more touching. My hands trailed up his body, feeling each muscle, until i got to his hair, tangling my fingers into each strand.

Our kisses went from gentle to sloppy and aggressive, making my lips hurt. But I didn't pull away, I pushed even harder, wanting more of him. I felt hot all over, maybe it was the one too many glass of whiskey, or maybe it was the fact that I wanted him now.

I've never felt this way with a hookup. I never felt intoxicated. As if I was needing him all my life.

That's when I pulled away, my heart racing ten times harder per minute. He looked down at me, his mouth open as he took a few deep breaths. I did the same, but looked away from him, unable to be okay with the burning feeling in the pit of my stomach.

I had feelings for him.

I shouldn't have feelings for him. I couldn't. I could not hook up with him if I had feelings for him.

His face was handsome, as if someone painted him. Even with the sweat and the flush in his cheeks. Shit shit shit.

I took a few more quickened breaths, trying to calm my racing hearts, and looked at him. He smiled once our eyes met and I swear I felt my body melt. It was just him and I and no one else in this God forsaken world. Who cares if I have feelings for him? I want him. And this may be my only chance... cause what would a guy like him be doing having feelings for me? He'd never.

So if I didn't sleep with him now, I could forget about that ever happening. I'm taking advantage of this. And then I'll be over my crush...

Taking a step towards him, I slipped my dress off, standing there in just my black bralette and barely there panties.

"Fuck me," I said with a smirk.

***

I awoke to a too sunny room. My phone happened to be on my side, so I took a look at it and found many texts from Claire and Dylan. I look through them, trying to grasp any important messages. They were all Where are you? You okay? We are leaving. Have fun with Sawyer . Thank God for not getting hangovers, I didn't feel anything but tired.

The bed jumped, making me jump and turn, seeing that I wasn't alone. I know that I slept with Sawyer last night, but I always sleep alone, so I didn't expect to be with anyone in bed. My heart raced as I realized that no one was trying to kill me. He had just turned on his side and kept on sleeping.

He had no shirt on, and I hoped her had his underwear on below those covers. His face was so sweet, all peaceful, as if he wasn't that reckless guy I met last night. Time and time again.

Since he was sleeping, I could get into the shower. He said he has an extra uniform, so I didn't need to rush home. And I had my makeup in my purse, so I was all prepared.

The thought of him having an extra set of uniforms did upset me though. Were those from other girls and they just left it here? Was I one of the girls he's been fucking this week? Why did I sleep with him when I knew I had feelings for him?

Now I didn't even want to leave the bed, I just wanted to sit there and look at him, because I would never have him. I might as well take the time that I have. But before I could sit there any longer, I knew how dumb I looked. I got out of the king size, super comfy bed, to head to the grand bathroom.

***

We separated at school, making sure Gossip Girl wouldn't have a clue about what happened. He was nice enough to get me a ride as well. But I couldn't get rid of that gut feeling that I had fucked up.

"Claire!" I called down the hall once I saw her.

She was at her locker with Declan and Dylan. They all looked pretty serious and looked at their phones. The hallway was emptying as students filed their way to class. I ran over to them, because they did not hear me. Something must have happened and I did not want to miss it.

Out of breath, I stood next to Claire. "Hey guys!" I smiled.

Declan smiled, "If it isn't Emma, how are you?"

"How are you guys? I mean ya'll left the party early."

"Yeah, but we all went home..." Claire smirked as she showed me her phone.

My stomach flipped flopped at the picture that was on it. It was Sawyer and I hoping into his drivers' car at Augustus'. I felt my smile fall as I scrolled down, reading the Gossip Girl article.

"Well, you guys knew I was going with Sawyer..." I sighed, handing Claire back her phone.

"We knew, but now the whole school knows." Dylan gave me a sad smile. "Look, it'll be okay. She wrote a lot of other stuff about last night, I'm sure people will forget about you. I'm going to class." She said reassuringly.

I smiled back, "Thanks for trying."

She walked off with Declan behind her. They went to class but I couldn't move. Claire had walked around me to head to class as well.

"Bobek, stop drowning yourself in yesterdays' news!" She yelled down the hall.

I turned on my heel and saw her waiting for me in the middle of the hall. "Everyone sleeps with Sawyer, this isn't news."

"You don't have to yell this down the hall Claire!" I chuckled.

And yet what she said made me feel worthless. I was just another number. I liked sleeping around, why was this so different?

Augustus Kolbeck

Waking up to no one in my bed was a good sign. No one in the house was an even better sign. The house was a bit of a wreck, but we've got maids for that. This was the only time I really liked to use a maid. I never liked the idea of someone else cleaning my stuff, but my parents did. I texted the maid service we used to get one in today.

I noticed that my siblings already went out, so that just means I had to make it to school on time.

***

I had met up with Isadora and Sawyer. We talked a bit before class, seeing a new kid just at the office. He looked terrible and I felt thankful for how safe I've been. Poor kid.

"You think we should talk to him at lunch?" I asked Isadora and Sawyer.

Isadora nodded as did Sawyer. "He will be needing some company." Isadora said.

Sighing, we went our separate ways. I couldn't help but think about last night, trying to connect the dots. It didn't help that my head felt like someone was drilling a hole into it. I couldn't think of anything.

Once I got to my class, I managed to zone out without getting noticed. The class was quiet as our teacher spoke about the importance of American history. That's when I remembered a face. A beautiful, soft face -- it was tied with pleasurable moaning.

Vada.

I had slept with Vada last night...

I pulled out my phone under the desk, and pulled up the Gossip Girl site. There was a post. I read through it. Looks like she noticed the new guy too. I went to my messages and found Vadas' name.

I had fun last night. We should do this again.

Having a good fuck buddy was what I needed this year. Last year I had too many one timers'... I just want someone I can fuck and is good at it, and that wont have feelings for me. So, a fuck buddy. Wow August.

"Mister Kolbeck, if you don't mind, could you put your phone away?" Mister Yankes said.

Looking up, I smiled and slid my phone back into my blazer. "Of course, I apologize. My father was messaging me from his business trip."

"I could care less Mister Kolbeck, just don't have it out again." He turned back towards the board.

He was around his thirties with a great head of hair. I'm not surprised that he worked here, he was the perfect fit to get each girl to follow the lesson.

The class sat quiet as they continued to listen to his lecture. I managed to zone out again, feeling sleepiness set in. Since my headache went away, all I wanted to do was rest on this desk. I looked around the class, catching sight of Big Red, aka, Dylan. She was focused on the professor, jotting out each thing he said into her notebook.

My body felt tense, as if regretting that I never had a chance with her yet. She was a beautiful woman, I will be honest. But she was smart, she wouldn't sleep with me. I wasn't really the boyfriend type. As well as her brother would kill both her and I if we ever slept together.

I guess she felt like someone was looking at her, because she turned her head and our eyes met. My throat got dry as we just looked at each other for a moment, the tension was setting in. She lifted an eyebrow at me then shook her head, looking back at her notebook. Behind her sat Jameson. I rolled up a piece of paper and threw it over at him. He looked up, shaking his head at me.

I pointed at my phone so he could take a look at him. Taking mine back out, I typed a message in our Group Chat. It was with Sawyer him and I.

I slept with Vada last night xD

Jameson is typing...

Damn, so she did enjoy the party! Jameson wrote.

Yeah, but I really would've enjoyed Big Red.

Sawyer is typing...

She's sitting right in front of me. Want me to tell her you're interested? Jameson wrote.

You can't get everything you want, big boiiiiiii. Sawyer wrote.

I put my phone away, knowing that I was pushing my luck even being on it right now.

I took the cue from Coach Beaumont before bringing all the guys to attention. "All right ladies, this is it! The time we've been waiting for. Tryouts for the tadpoles. We shall see, who has it in them to make the cut to join us this year as our newest St. Jude lacrosse players. Now, because of last years incident, we can no longer set the obstacle course on fire." I grinned at the few disappointed groans. It had been a tradition.

"Do meet here after school and we can begin taking a look at the tadpoles. Coach Beaumont will be running them like crazy, and as team captain, I'll be making final choices. Don't hesitate to come with me with any ideas. If we're going to be taking the team to the cup this year, we're gonna have to do better than last year." With the resounding cheers I sat down amongst my teammates. We were a brotherhood. That was the way with sports.

Coach Beaumont walked up to the spot I had just vacated. Coach Beaumont was a Native American Canadian Frenchman. And a world champion. Only the best for St. Jude's. Besides polo, we didn't offer much in the way of sports. No football or baseball. Only the gentlemanly sports. We even had a skeet game team. I mean high school shooting? Really?

I blanked out my thoughts as Coach Beaumont began speaking. At the end of his announcements, he held up his finger before we began to file out of the locker room." One last announcement. Merely to repeat the Headmistress's words and add my own onto it, I shall remind you to not pay attention to the gossip girl website. For many reasons. I don't need you distracted by drama. I know how it's juicy, but I can't stop you from getting your feelings hurt. You're dismissed."

I followed the guys out of the locker room. As soon as they were out of earshot of the coach, they began talking excitedly about last nights double pots.

"I'm surprised Playboy Sawyer doesn't have any diseases right now."

"Probably does. The only girls he sleeps with are all drunk. Not like they'd notice."

"Big red eh? I'd like to take a shot at that."

They all looked at me. I froze. Than realized I had spoken. Umm... whoops? I cleared my throat." It's not like anyone is gonna care after this. You're either gonna go on and make something or become a drunk baby and live off of your parents." I blinked. I think I had just insulted the entire team. Than the laughter began.

"Oh Bash, one day you'll realize, we all can't be as aloof as you, ya cold bastard. Maybe someday you'll lighten up and you'll realize it's not all black and white." Duke Harrison smiled at me as the guys laughed there way into another direction. My thoughts drifted. I knew it wasn't all black and white, but perhaps he was right? I hurried after them.

Good Morning Troublemakers,

Unless you're still drunk from last night, I'm sure you've been waiting for this post with anticipation. Or, for some of you, dread.

First under the bus is Chicago, it's been 3 days of school and she's already slutting it up with a guy she barely knows. Unless maybe she and Sawyer have history we don't know about? Careful Emma, you never know where else he's been. Or rather, who he's been with.
[insert photo of Emma and Sawyer making out]

We've also discovered a new key player, one who's been flying somewhat under the radar. Isadora VanDeGraff, though this isn't a major headline, was seen drunk off her ass last night making a fool of herself. This is hardly big news, but be careful Izzy. I don't like people who try to hide from me.
[Insert photo of tipsy Isadora]

Next, we all know Augustus has been after Big Red from day one, but I think we all thought she might hold off at least until week two. Is BR succumbing to August's advances? Sure looks like it to me.
[Insert photo of Dylan chatting with August, the photo was taken during an inconvenient moment where August is grinning slyly and Dylan is blushing.]

Spotted, Vada Collins hungover from the party last night. Funny how she disappeared halfway through the party. What's wrong V, don't want to tell us the secrets you have hidden under the bed? Or, more accurately, in your bed.
[Photo of Vada walking into school late with bloodshot eyes and mussed hair.]

I told you all you wouldn't like the consequences of last night. Time to face your demons in the light of day.

Who am I? That's one secret I'll never tell.
You know you love me
XOXO,
Gossip Girl

Dylan

My alarm went off at 6:30 am the next day and I groaned. Thankfully, I had only had one drink so I didn't have a hangover but that didn't mean staying out late hadn't taken its toll on me.

I took a quick shower and dried my hair with the blow dryer, letting my hair fall in its natural red curls. I paused after doing my makeup to make sure Declan was up. Which, annoyingly, he was, and he was helping our parents make breakfast.

"Go finish getting ready, Dylan," my Mom said, "You still have circles under your eyes."

I tried to ignore the stab of pain that reverberated through me. It seemed like any moment my mother had to nitpick me was one well used, she frequently made comments about my weight as well.

I put on nylons (we were required to wear some form of tights) and flats with my uniform. I was not in the mood to deal with heels or boots that day.

"Is that what you're wearing?" Mom asked.

"Mom. We have to wear uniforms." I said flatly, and Declan frowned apologetically. As usual, Dad stayed silent. I often got the impression that he disagreed with her parenting methods but wouldn't be the one to say anything about it.

"Well yes, dear, but obviously you can accessorize or something. Wait a moment." Mom walked into my room and emerged forest green cardigan sweater that she'd bought for me at bloomingdale's when we first got to the city.

"I'm guessing you're not the one wearing that today?" I asked sarcastically.

"Oh no honey," she replied, her voice laden with nonchalance and a hint of snark, "It would be much too big on me."

I felt a lump in my throat form as the full impact of her words hit me. I snatched the sweater from her and jammed my arms into it before walking over the elevator and angrily hit the button with the palm of my hand.

"Was it something I said?" she whispered to my Dad and he just shrugged, taking a bite of his morning muffin.

The doors dinged open and Declan looked from Mom, to me, then back at Mom. He exhaled, grabbed both of our bookbags from the couch and ran to catch the elevator before the doors shut.

"You know she doesn't mean it right?" Declan asked, but I don't know who he thought he was convincing, me or him.

"You and I both know she means exactly what she said. We're talking about the woman who decided to get liposuction. When she wore a size 6."

"Dylan, I love you, but people are going to make fat jokes. People are going to be jerks. You can't get bent up every time it happens," he said.

"I know that. But that doesn't mean I have to take it from my own mother," I shot back, taking my book bag from him just as the elevator doors opened.

We got in the town car and rode through New York City traffic to school. When we arrived, Emma and Claire were waiting outside.

"So, Emma, how was your night with Sawyer?" I prodded, forgetting all about the incident this morning with my Mom as I shot her a playful grin.

"Well wouldn't you like to know?" she shot back, giving me a wink.

"Come on, E, no details? At all?" asked Claire, her hands resting on the camera around her neck.

"It was fun," she said, "That's all I'm gonna say."

"Okay," I said, giving in, "When do you think Gossip Girl will post next?"

"Not sure. Why, are you worried? Did something crazy happen last night after I left?" asked Claire.

"No," I said defensively, immediately remembering the conversation I'd had with Augustus and hoping nobody and taken a photo of us talking, "I'm just curious. Speaking of which," I said, changing the subject, "where exactly did you run off to last night?"

"I had to do something for a friend," Claire hedged. "What did you end up doing anyway after the party?"

The bell rang after Claire spoke and we headed into the building, "Declan stole an eight dollar book from August's library and then we went home."

"Declan reads?" Claire said in surprise.

"Yeah," I replied as we reached our first period chem class. "What, did you just think he was a brooding redhead with communication skills limited to tribal grunts?"

"He is a teenage boy after all," joked Emma.

"Well, that's not my brother. He's actually really smart."

We settled down at a lab table just as the bell rang. "Good to know," Claire said finally, ending the conversation.

Suddenly, everybody's phones went off and we all reached for them instinctively. That could only mean one thing: Gossip Girl.

I hurriedly scrolled through the post. Emma slept with Sawyer, no surprise there, I sort of already knew that. Some girl named Vada came to school hungover, I didn't really care about that. But, ugh, somebody had taken a picture of August and I talking. And it looked bad, really bad. It looked like he was... flirting.

"Guys, I swear the photo of me and August was totally staged. It's really not what it looks like."

"We know, no way would you be involved with that scumbag," Claire whispered, just as the teacher walked in.

"Okay boys and girls, don't get too comfortable. You are going to be picking lab partners. There should only be two to a table," she said, shooting a pointed look at Claire and Emma and I, "and I hope you choose well. This person will be your lab partner for half of the semester."

Emma, Claire, and I looked at each other, feeling nervous as people paired up.

"It's cool, you two can be lab partners and I'll find someone," I offered.

"Dylan..." Claire trailed off.

"It's not a big deal," I said, and it wasn't. We'd only just met this week and were becoming good friends and I didn't think they would leave me out.

"Okay," Claire ceded and I stood up to find a partner.

I looked around the room to find most people were paired up, except for maybe a few students standing awkwardly around the room. I approached a boy with shaggy hair and a black hoodie over his St. Jude's uniform, one that was most likely not allowed. I walked over to him and as I got closer, I saw he had severe scarring on one side of his face, which really only concerned me because he had a hearing aid and I didn't want to sit on his bad side, I wanted him to be able to hear me.

"Hi," I said, and he looked up and raised his eyebrows. He looked around, surprised, even more so when he noticed there were still a few free people milling about looking for partners.

"Can I help you?" he said coldly.

"Yeah, I was wondering if you wanted to be my lab partner?" I bit my lip nervously. If he said no, that'd be humiliating and I'd get to explain to the teacher why I couldn't find a stupid lab partner. He didn't speak for a while. "So...?" I prompted him trailing off, "Will you?"

Henry Campbell

Henry did his best to ignore the whispers that were surrounding him now. He had gotten used to it, but he didn't like it. Looking at his schedule he noted that it was Chemistry first. "Great. Bunsen burners," he sighed.

Stepping into the classroom he could see the eyes turn toward him, especially with his scarred side facing the students. He actually had to clear his throat for the teacher to stop staring at him and give him an assignment. Thankfully it was near the back of the room. "We only have stools so I'll let you wear your hoodie for this class to keep it off the floor," the teacher said, her eyes apologetic.

Pushing he arms through the sleeves of the black Princeton hoodie he sat down. People would occasionally turn back to look at him as he began looking through the textbook. Flipping through pages as the last of the students trickled in. The bell rang and soon after everyone's cell phone went off. Some sort of mass text it seemed.

"Okay boys and girls, don't get too comfortable. You are going to be picking lab partners. There should only be two to a table," the teacher said, "and I hope you choose well. This person will be your lab partner for half of the semester."

Oh this should be fun, Henry thought still flipping through pages. Who the hell is gonna want to partner up with a burn scarred fre-

"Hi," a girl said. Henry looked up to a red haired girl who, thankfully, looked like she actually ate a full meal daily. She seemed to shuffle a little more to his right and he was already assuming why.

"Can I help you?" he asked in cold manner.

"Yeah, I was wondering if you wanted to be my lab partner?" she asked with a nervous bite of her lip. To say that Henry was surprised was the understatement of the century. He was completely floored.

She actually wants me as a lab partner? he thought to himself.

"So...? Will you?"

Henry blinked a moment before he realize he had just been staring at her slack jawed for a good ten seconds. He closed his mouth and gave a small nod. He didn't know what to do. Couldn't the girl see his scars? Wasn't she going to make a comment or joke at his expense?

He could see her visibly relax. "Do mind if I sit on the right?" she asked.

Here is comes, Henry thought.

"Why?" he asked through his teeth.

Get a grip man. You have the rest of the school day to get through, he berated himself.

"I noticed you have a hearing aid. I wanted to make sure that I you could hear me when we start doing labs," she responded.

Henry felt a pang of guilt as she explained herself. Her intentions were for his benefit. She was right. Even with the hearing aid he had difficulty with hearing things on his left side. "Yeah, sure," he said as he scooted his things over to the other side of the chemistry table.

"I'm Dylan," the red head said holding out her hand.

"Henry," he responded giving it a firm shake.

"With everyone's reaction, I'm guessing you're new to the school."

"Yeah. Just started today."

"You can copy my notes from yesterday if you want."

"Yeah...thanks..." Henry didn't realize that he was staring at her. His brow drawn down in confusion.

"What? Is there something on my face?" Dylan asked starting to feel concerned.

"Just...not used to this," Henry said looking back to his textbook.

"Not used to what?"

"Being treated like I'm normal."

There was a moment of quiet between them as the last of the students found their seats. "Well if those whispering willies up there are the normal ones, then I don't think either of us fit into the category." Dylan flashed him a smile and Henry genuinely returned it.

Maybe things won't be so bad after all, he thought.

Claire Devney

It was around 4:30 in the morning when I had woken up wrapped in the arms of Nick Anderson. The feeling of his slow breath on the back of my neck sent chills down my spine. I didn’t want to move, but the flash of the moving minutes sent a wave of anxiety through my brain. Slowly I untangled myself from Nick’s embrace, and collected my scattered clothes from around the room. I stepped out into the living room of his apartment, and looked down at the half empty beer cans, and the barely eaten pizza on his coffee table. There was never that much talking or eating when it came to me and Nick.

We’d never make it that far.

I quickly grab my jacket, and shove on my puke stained shoes on my way out the door. At this time of night it doesn’t take me long to hail a cab back to my place. I quickly sneak through the door when the clearing of my mom’s throat stops me in my tracks.

“Late night mom?” I ask putting down my things. She types away at her computer barely looking my way.

“More like early morning. Besides, I feel like I should ask you the same thing. Where have you been?” She asks with her typical “I’m following a script” voice.

“Do you even care?” I ask snarkily.

“I suppose not if you're not going to tell me.” She says looking up through the rims of her glasses. “By the looks of it, you remained responsible tonight and aren't drunk. Therefore it's a win for me, and my place in the league of mothers is secured.

“You deserve an award.” I snap heading for my room.

“Love you hun.” She says.

“Yeah yeah. Love you too.” I mumble to myself closing my door.

---------------------------------------

The next time I wake up is to the sound of my alarm. I groan as I place my finger down on the snooze button. I glance at my phone to see two new messages from Jameson. I swipe the notifications away, and escape to the bathroom to prepare for the upcoming day.

By the time I make it to school, It is already apparent that the wave of hangovers has fallen over the student body. It ranges from your sunglass wearing cliches, all the way to people who have actually fallen asleep standing against their locker.

I meet up with Emma and Dylan before class to get the scoop of what I missed from the night before.

By the time the Gossip Girl post came around I had fully prepared for the backlash of last nights drama. However when I read through it, and saw nothing regarding the fight I was shocked.

“That bitch.” I say to myself.

“What?” Emma asks turning to me when Dylan interrupts.

"Guys, I swear the photo of me and August was totally staged. It's really not what it looks like." She explains.

"We know, no way would you be involved with that scumbag," I try to reassure her as the bell rings. After the whole lab partner issue blows over Emma turns to me.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” She asks.

“I’m just confused”

“About?”

“The Gossip Girl post. Why was there nothing about the fight?”

“That’s a good point. Is it cause you're one of her tips?”

“Maybe..but she wouldn’t make this obvious.”

“Look, why are you so on edge about this? Don’t tell me you actually want to be the center of Gossip Girl’s attention. Believe me it sucks.”

“I’m sorry. I know you and Dylan have kind of been her punching bags lately, but I can’t help but be curious. She trying to pin eyes on me which could mean she is planning something bigger.”

“You can’t be paranoid like that. As far as I know you don’t have any skeletons in your closet that Gossip Girl isn’t using.” She assures me.

“Yeah I guess you're right.” I lie.

--------------------------------------------------------

Towards the end of the day Emma, Dylan, and I stand against the lockers talking. I check my phone to see another new message from Jameson. This time I quickly reply.

Me: Look let's just pretend it never happened. Okay?

I quickly raise my camera to take some quick snaps of the new deliciously mysterious addition to our student body. Which also happens to be Dylan’s permanent lab partner.

“What are you doing?” Dylan asks turning in the direction of my target. “Why are you taking pictures of Henry?”

“What? I’m just trying to capture the mystery of the new guy for my portfolio.” She glares at me, and I roll my eyes. “I promise I not tipping him off to Gossip Girl. There probably have already been ten people who have.”

“Okay...I mean, he seems like a pretty cool guy. I think he just wants to be treated normally.”

“At this school? Unlikely.” Emma says with a playful smile.

“I mean he is kind of hot. You know, in an Alex Pettyfer Beastly kind of way.” I say jokingly, but also kind of serious.

“Claire, shut up.” Dylan hits my arm.

“Just imagine it Dylan. It’s like the movies.” I fall into my exaggerated drama voice. “You guys are forced to be lab partners under unlikely circumstances, and he is the mysterious brooding type.”

“You guys start as unlikely outcast friends. And then, something crazy will happen leading you to fall in love with him. Like possibly him saving your life in some way.” Emma says joining in with a laugh.

“It’ll be just like beauty and the beast with you as his enchanted rose.” I say pulling on a strand of her red hair. She swats my hand away and we all laugh.

“You guys are actually the worst.” She smiles. “Besides I am no one’s damsel in distress.”

“No you are not.” I say wrapping my arms around both of my friends shoulders. “Now let's go get food before I explode from the overload of this day.”

“Sounds good to me.” Emma says.

“Me too.” Dylan smiles.

Declan

I was ashamed to admit that I did indeed read the Gossip Girl post. I discarded most of it, though what I read about Emma surprised me. I didn't know her that well but she didn't seem like the kind of girl who would sleep with a guy like Sawyer. Then again, I wasn't really one to judge, it was just surprising.

I headed to lacrosse tryouts after school, entering the locker rooms and changing into shorts and a t shirt.

"Listen up tadpoles!" called an obviously Italian guy from the front of the room. His dark hair and olive complexion stood out a bit from the rest of us. He immediately identified himself as Bash Trapani and the name tugged at something in my brain. I sighed and made a mental note to google him when I got home, before moving on to stretches and warm ups.

"All right ladies," he called, and I was slightly annoyed at this cliche, "we're going to do a few miles around the track now. Let's go!"

All the other guys groaned. As I looked around, I saw how ripped some of them were. They probably focused mainly on muscle training and not enough cardio. I was a cross country runner, I'd participated in four marathons over the summer, and had been running every day anyway. A couple of miles would be a breeze for me.

Bash ran next to me, easily keeping pace, in silence. Thankfully, it was still autumn and not so cold that our lungs were being stabbed with icy knives, and not so hot that we were ready to pass out from heatstroke. I suspected during the winter months we'd be moving indoors for practice. Lacrosse season didn't technically start until late February, but we trained all year long. St. Jude's had the best lacrosse team in the state for this reason and last year, Bash had most likely been their best player, hence why he's coach now.

He looked over at me, "Getting tired yet?" the guys behind us were getting tired and falling further and further towards the back of the line. We'd done about 4 laps, so about 2 miles.

"Nope. I run marathons in my spare time. This is child's play for me." I kept running, finally getting the out of breath adrenaline feeling I loved so much. It was the reason I played sports.

"After this lap we'll stop, I don't think they can take anymore," Bash said chuckling with little humor, gesturing to the back of the line. I was right, most of them had done little to no cardio, save for maybe a couple of the leaner guys who still seemed to be sweating more than Bash and I were.

"Oh and by the way, you can count on a 3 mile run to warm us up at the beginning of every practice. You're welcome." Bash said grinning, crossing his arms. "We have a lot of work to do."

*************
Around 6:00 that night I walked into the apartment, and the scent of spices reached my nose. My stomach grumbled.

"Dylan?" I called.

"In here!" she yelled back. I walked into her room to see the TV was on, and Dylan and Claire were sitting on the floor watching some guy hand out roses to girls who looked desperate with too much makeup on their faces and not enough clothes on their bodies. They'd both changed into those short Nike shorts and t shirts, Dylan's hair was piled on top of her head and Claire's hair was pulled back.

"What have you been up to?" I asked, taking the small towel I'd thrown over my shoulder and wiping the rest of the sweat off my forehead.

"We went to the gym and worked out. Well, I worked out. Claire just ogled the guys and walked on the treadmill," Dylan informed me.

I rolled my eyes, "Nice, guys. Been getting into any more trouble with Gossip Girl?" I asked Claire, referring to the photo she sortof did sortof didn't send in the first day of school.

"No," Claire said, though she looked a little uneasy. I was only 5 minutes older than Dylan, but in a way I still had a big brother complex, I immediately felt that for Claire, since she was quickly becoming Dylan's best friend. I wondered for a moment what was wrong, but then dismissed it. Claire could take care of herself.

"Glad to hear it. I'm going to shower and get me some of that. Did Alberta fix it?" I asked, referring to the chicken our nanny undoubtedly made.

"Yeah, she left already but put some leftovers in the fridge in a container. She said to tell you you're going to eat us out of house and home," Dylan said giggling.

"Ha. Ha." I said dryly, "You girls have fun watching..." I paused, "Whatever this is."

"The Bachelor" they said simultaneously.

"Yeah yeah." I said, dismissing them, cracking the door as I left the room.

"Where was Declan?" I heard Claire ask from behind the door as I walked away.

"Lacrosse practice," said Dylan, "shhh, I want to see if Nick gives the rose to Taylor or Corinne. Corinne is such a bi-" I walked away after that. I didn't really care about Corinne or Taylor or Nick, whoever they were.

I showered and managed to shave without cutting my face before putting on pajama bottoms, socks, and a long sleeve shirt. My stomach grumbled again, reminding me of the delicious chicken in the fridge I had yet to eat. I puttered into the kitchen, fixing myself a heaping plate of mashed potatoes, green beans, and chicken breast before I slipped it into the toaster oven.

Claire emerged from the girls' room, carrying plates and an empty cup.

"I can take those," I said, glancing at the toaster oven to see how much longer my food would take.

"No, no," she said, putting the dishes in the sink and rinsing them off. "Should I load these in the dishwasher?"

"Alberta is very specific on how she likes the dishwasher to be loaded. May I?" I asked, gesturing to the dishes. She nodded and stepped away, walking over the fridge to get a Gatorade as I began to load the dishes.

I placed each dish in the dishwasher gingerly, making sure they were facing the correct way and were arranged properly. I vaguely heard the snap of Claire's Gatorade as she opened the bottle and took a sip. She looked at Dylan's door and then back at me again, biting her lip with uncertainty.

"Is everything okay?" I asked. "I saw the Gossip Girl post earlier but I don't recall seeing your name anywhere." I closed the dishwasher and leaned with my back against the counter.

"That's exactly why I'm worried," she replied, twisting an electric blue lock of hair between her fingers.

"You're not one of those girls, are you? The ones who need everybody to see them in order to feel good about themselves?" I regretted the words immediately after I'd spoken them. Even if she was like that, it wasn't my business and it wasn't my job to interrogate my sister's friends.

"That's not it. I'm worried about her building momentum, waiting for the time to strike," Claire said.

"Does she have something on you?" I asked. I was intrigued, what could Claire possibly be hiding.

"I've already said to much," she said, brushing it off. "It's stupid." she tried to walk past me to Dylan's room but I gently stopped her, putting my hand on her arm. The "big brother" mentality was kicking in again, I kept imagining Dylan this scared about somebody telling her secrets, and it immediately made me want to help.

"I know you don't want to talk about it now, but it seems to me like in this city, everything comes out eventually. When that time comes, Dylan's the kind of person you want to have on your side. And obviously if you're ever in trouble or if you need something, I don't mind helping people out."

"Thanks," she said, and she vanished into Dylan's room just as the timer on the toaster oven dinged.