New Girl {Poldark}

chapter 1

Ross POV

"Dude, have you seen Elizabeth today? That girl is so hot," Francis said, leaning his elbow on Ross' shoulder whilst they made their way down the corridor with Ross' best friend, Dwight.

Ross exhaled gruffly, in a bad mood. "Hi Francis."

He looked at his cousin. His blonde curls gave him a slightly insane appearance, and his electric blue eyes were too eager, as always.

"So I can ask her out now, right?"

Ross halted at his locker to retrieve his sports kit for football practice. Dwight gave Francis a look over his shoulder.

"Francis don't go there today, alright?"

Ross banged his locker door shut, not really giving a shit. "Go ahead, man. Elizabeth and I are done. Finished. Over."

Dwight looked confused as he started opening his own locker. "Wait, what? I thought you guys were back on?"

"We were. Until she came round last night and told me she thought we were 'going too fast' and that I need to 'lay off a bit'."

"She's messing you around Ross. Just be done with her, she's stupid."

"No she isn't!" Francis protested, always the first to leap to Elizabeth's defence.

Francis had liked Elizabeth pretty much the first day he laid eyes on her. The only problem was that she was too preoccupied with her on/off relationship with Ross to notice him, meaning she messed him around like an abused puppy. Francis just kept coming back for more. It was painful to watch, but what can you do?

"So is that a yes?" Francis asked, his eyes lighting up with excitement. "I can actually date her?"

"Yeah, sure. Whatever." Ross grabbed his sports bag and headed to Chemistry with Dwight, leaving a shocked Francis standing open mouthed in the middle of the corridor.

"You realise that Francis was serious about asking her out, right? You probably just ruined any chance of getting back with her."

"I also realise that there is a 110% chance that Elizabeth will turn him down," said Ross in response. "Who says I want to get back together with her anyway? Come on, let's get to class."

He swung his bag over his shoulder and sauntered up the stairs, walking head first into a wiry, flat chest.

"Hello, Ross. Where's that bag from again?" George's crooked mouth was pulled up in a smirk, displaying sharp canines. His friends were closing in on Ross and Dwight like a pack of wolves with exact same ugly expression on their faces.

Ross groaned. "Not now, George."

George put his hand to his ear. "What was that? Oxfam?" Laughter went up around him. Hilarious.

Ross started to push past him. "Loser," he muttered.

"I'm sorry Ross, I can't hear what you're saying," George blocked his path again, raising his voice. "Would you like to repeat it?"

Dwight stepped forward. "Just stop it okay George? Why do you have to be such a dick all the time?"

"Bless, but this really isn't the right time to fantasise about having a penis, Ennys."

Roars of laughter erupted around them, the entire corridor had stopped to watch.

Ross shoved George into the corridor wall, clenching the collar of his shirt. "Listen you little twat, why don't you just show us your dick if it's so great?"

People sniggered as George's face turned red, and then back to normal when someone shouted 'gay'.

George snorted. "I would, but I thought Dwight might stare and make me, you know..uncomfortable."

Ross shoved him again. "We're not taking any more of your shit okay? Keep yourself and your dumb friends away from us."

He shoved him one last time and pushed through the crowd. George straightened his spotless white shirt and started rearranging his hair.

George Warleggan was the richest student in the school. His dad owned at least three of the top companies in America, usually by bankrupting them and then weaving his way to the top spot. His house was a country mansion with a boating lake, stables, race course and archery ground. He was driven into school everyday in his huge black Lamborghini and threw massive parties. Ross had known him since elementary school and thus had seen him do some pretty horrific things. Like hacking the school website and turning it into a platform where he spread horrible rumours about other students, which people believed for some reason. And lifting up some random 12 year old's skirt for two whole minutes whilst the poor kid just stood there and cried.

In all technical terms, George shouldn't have been popular. He was skinny, white and spotty. His dark blonde hair was greasy, which also meant he had a constant scattering of spots on his forehead. Unlike Ross, he wasn't sporty, sociable or charming. But he was a cocky little gobshite and had a knack for getting exactly what he wanted, and that seemed to be his salvation.

Ross sat down at his desk and started aggressively unpacking his bag. Miss Martin stood up and started blabbering on about iron oxide and God knows what else.

Dwight leaned over from the desk next to him. "Apparently there's a new kid starting today and I think they're meant to be in our class. Like, right now."

"They? Is it a boy or a girl?"

"Dunno. But they've left it a bit late - we've already covered like, half the syllabus."

Ross shrugged, uninterested. He dedicated ten minutes to hard work and tried to concentrate on what Miss Martin was saying - and failed. The lesson dragged on as he gazed out of the window and thought about ways he could get revenge on George.

Half an hour later, the door creaked open. A tall girl with strikingly red hair and porcelain skin was holding her bag awkwardly, looking around the classroom.

So this was the new girl.

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