Chapter One

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Okay, so I know this may start out as your typical Teen Fiction book, but please bare with me, because trust me, I've got a plan for this story you won't be expecting ;)

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"ALARA," a voice yells, awakening me from my precious sleep, "GET UP, YOU DON'T WANT TO BE LATE FOR SCHOOL, IT'S YOUR FIRST DAY!"

Yeah, yeah, my first day. Does it really make any difference?

I try ignoring the annoying voice and going back to sleep, but unfortunately it backfires.

The sound of footsteps pounding up the staircase make me wary of what is about to happen next. As my bedroom door is thrown open I cringe, preparing for the series of oncoming blows.

"Alara, my perfume," Ally snaps, standing with her hands on her hips.

"Yeah, what about it?" I snicker.

"WHERE DID YOU PUT IT?!"

"Wow, calm down. Um, I don't know. Up my arse maybe?" I smirk, knowing that that would set her off.

As if on cue she steps forward with the I-am-about-to-strangle-you look when suddenly mum walks through the door.

"Ally, what are you doing to your poor sister?" she sighs before glaring at me. "Aren't you supposed to be dressed?"

"Yeah, well, I'm not superwoman," I say, "I can't just magically change in twenty seconds."

Mum just rolls her eyes at me and gestures towards my growing pile of dirty clothes.

"How do you go through that many clothes so fast? Now you don't have anything nice left. You'll have to borrow something of your sisters."

"Are you fucking kidding me," Ally whines, stomping her foot like they do in soap operas.

"Language!" my mother scolds.

I decide to avoid the mother/daughter fight and set off for my sister's bedroom. When it comes to her clothes you usually can't find anything remotely decent. All her closet consists of is tight corsets, ridiculously short dresses, tank tops and mini skirts.

I groan and shift through her pile of clothes until the closest thing I can find to not being slutty is a pair of jeggings, a sweatshirt (I know right, can you believe it?), and I also throw on her favourite pair of studded boots just to piss her off, which I usually find highly entertaining.

I give my raven black hair a quick run through with the brush before going downstairs into the kitchen. I don't really have an appetite this morning, so I just grab an apple and take off for the bus, which I was probably going to miss.

When I arrive at the bus station I spot my best friend Jenna and her brother Luke (who is quite a fitty if I must admit). Jenna smiles and waves at me, strutting over in her dark red heels, tapping loudly on the concrete as she makes her way over to me, her brother following awkwardly like a lost puppy. Aww, cute.

Jenna has been my best friend since I can remember. We used to play together in the sandpit and play pranks on my older sister. She is a lot of fun and never bores me. Then there is that hunk of a brother who always tags along with her. He's very protective of her, and always has been, which I found adorable. If she was even caught talking to a guy he would whisk her away and give him a dirty look. I guess he just loved her . . . maybe a little too much, because I don't think she paticuarly liked it, but anyway.

"Hey Alara!" She shoots me one of her award-winning smiles. Darn her for looking like a model when I'm just plain old me. "How have you been, woman?! I haven't seen you for months!"

"I've been alright, you know. Nothing special."

Okay, so I was being a little anti-social today, but I'm really not in the mood for talking.

Suddenly Luke chips in, "As much as I love your girl talk we have to go. The bus is leaving."

He bites his lip and looks up at me from under those gorgeous, thick black lashes. Okay, I must admit, I've always had a little crush on my best friend's older brother. But I don't think he really knew; which was the way I liked it. I mean, it would just be awkward if I hooked up with him, what with Jenna and all. How would that turn out?

"Oh, hi Jenna. Just thought you should know that I screwed your older brother and we're getting married, so yeah."

I don't think so. Otherwise I'd be all in!

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When we arrive at school the bell is just about to ring, so we quickly say our goodbyes and take off our seperate ways. The first thing I see when I walk into the classroom is him, which is kind of hard to avoid since he has his usual mob of swooning girls stationed on every side of him, although he doesn't seem all that interested. Suddenly, he catches my eye through a gap in between the clustered bodies and winks at me. Ugh, pig.

All throughout class he is looking at me; making no effort whatsoever to hide it. I must admit, I do put up my rude finger underneath the desk a few times so he gets the message, but clearly not, because after class when I am shuffling through my locker I feel a pair of strong hands grip my shoulders and turn me around. I know it's him; he reeks of women's perfume.

"Brad Farron, get your stinking hands off of me."

I give him a gentle shove and he takes step back.

"Oooh. Getting feisty now, are we?" he snickers, trailing his finger down my arm and biting his lower lip sexily.

I swat him away like a fly.

"Go away. Since when did you have any interest in me at all since the third grade?"

"Since now," he replies, shooting me a smile which is just too happy for my liking.

The third grade was the year that Brad had entered my school - and my life. Yueck. But since now he had made no attempt whatsoever to seduce me.

Brad Farron was a player. Everyone knew that. He was proud of it. He was proud that he had earned that label, having slept with almost every girl in the school - except for me that is, and clearly now I was his next target.

"Well if you think you're gonna get some, then you might as well leave," I snap, making no attempt to hide the dislike in my voice.

"You're a virgin, aren't you? Don't you at all feel like changing that statement?" He moves closer to me.

I temporarily get lost in his gaze before I shove him off again, "No, not really," I reply completely honestly.

"Well, we'll have to see about that now, won't we?" He gives my arse a quick squeeze over the thin fabric of my jeggings before I can stop him and takes off down the hallway - a pride in his step that I absolutely hate.

If that jerk thought he was getting any of this, well, then he was wrong. Because I was stronger than that, and as much as I wanted to give in to my desires I wasn't going to. And especially not with Brad Farron.

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