Welcome To The Club of Delinquents!

You Got Paint On My Shoe.

“No! Please! I don't wanna die! Just expel me!” Sony was currently hanging on the corner of a wall while Matty was trying to pull the teen into the club room. Small tears were forming at the corner of her eyes as the boy was slowly pulling her into the room.

“Don't say that! This place is fun!” Finally getting a hold of the girl's waist, Matty lifts Sony off the ground and proceeds to enter the room with her wriggling in his grip. Paul slowly entered behind the two hoping to enter the room without any notice. But it was too late when Matty pulls the stubborn teen to his side and drops Sony on the ground.

“Hey everyone! Today we have new members! Meet Paul Whitefield and Sony Parker! Say Hi!” Sony gulped as she slowly lifted herself off the ground. All of the members of the club were staring at them with great intensity. She could feel herself get more and more nervous as she looked at every face. There aren't that many people Sony has meet at the school, but by rumors and descriptions of the people she could figure out who was who. And dear god, the worse of the worse were all here.

“Hey.” Sony felt herself jump as Matty's honey-sweet voice went to a dark husky tone.

“I told all of you to say hi.” All the members of the club complied by whispering small greetings. Sony sweat-dropped, well, at least she knows Matty can control them. Just in a second the college student changes back to his regular demeanor with a bright smile and faced the two teens.

“Why don't you guys socialize and meet some of the members! I bet you could make a friend, every one is very unique!”

Yeah, unique, as in sociopath path unique. Paul snorted and walked off to a corner of the room where he sat down and plugged into his music. Sony nervously shuffled under Matty's gaze. Great, he was probably expecting her to be the better person and find someone to befriend. And from the past head-lock the college student gave to Sony in the halls, she was willing to oblige.

Sony's eyes swept across the room, from what she saw there was no female students in the club. Which put fear in her mind as possibility of rape could happen. But her fear stopped when from a table in the room sat a person with long slinky red hair, adoring a long scarf with her uniform. A smile came on Sony's face as she found a female companion. Walking up to the person she tried to make a good impression. Maybe if she made a friend the principle would allow her to quit the club. Coming up behind the person Sony was able to speak and try to make her first conversation with a person . . . ever.

“Um, Hi there! I'm Sony, so, um, what's your name?” The person turned around to face Sony.

“Ivan Jakov.” Sony's breathe hitched in her throat. And it wasn't from the small needles the student was holding in their fingers or the knives on the desk. But that the supposed girl spoke with a smooth voice of a boy. Sony couldn't help herself and pointed a finger at him.

“You're not a girl!?” Her outburst caused the whole room to turn their heads to her, well who could blame the girl! He had silky smooth long hair, his eyes were a bright green and had long thick lashes, also his complexion was pure white with a narrow face. Of course the teen thought the boy was a girl! Heck, Sony's even getting jealous right now because he's probably way prettier than her! The teen, Ivan, narrowed his eyes at her.

“Excuse me.” Sony began to slowly walk backwards as the teen kept his gaze on her. She put up her hands in defense while she continued to walk.

“I-I-I'm sor-r-ry! It's just that you were s-s-so pretty that I mistaken you-!” That wasn't really helping the girl's situation. What made matters worse was that Sony tripped over a guy that was huddled on the ground. An exclamation of, 'Hey! Watch it!' was shouted out but was too late as Sony fell backwards, making the boy crush whatever he was making on the ground. The girl quickly got up with wide eyes as she stares at the boy who was still on the ground now fretting over whatever he was building.