if Joriah & Lourtney went to school

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Joel sighed as he trudged to his homeroom class, Mr. Barton. His parents had sent him Downey Academy in the hopes that he'd make at least one friend. That, and because his younger brother, Luke, had won a basketball scholarship. Joel didn't really want to go, in all honesty. He was okay with being an antisocial homebody. Besides, he did "talk" to people. When the Smallbones went on tour (his older sister was a singer), Joel worked (and talked!) with the crew guys. It wasn't a big deal. But, hey,  at least there was a plus. Joel could spend even more time away from his nagging parents and way-too-energetic-for-their-own- good siblings. It'd be good. 

He hoped.  

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Moriah smoothed out her carefully picked outfit, then reapplied another layer of her lip gloss. She scanned the crowded hallway for her two best friends, and not finding them, shut her locker and made her way to her homeroom class. She already knew where they'd be, anyway. Jesi would be rushing to get to class two minutes before the bell rang, and Julie would be using the less-crowded hallways to arrive from the library. It was always like this, every day, every year. The rusher, the introverted geek, and her, the prepper (making sure everything was all set: clothes, hair, makeup, homework, mind). The trio. Nothing had ever changed. Nothing ever would. 

Or so Mo thought. 

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Courtney took her usual spot in the back, with her earbuds in and blocking out the world. It was her school tradition to avoid people. She hated them, especially for what happened in 6th grade, four years ago. Something that has somewhat died, thank goodness. 

Then the whispers started. 

No, she thought, not again. 

Then she realized it wasn't about her. It was someone else. She craned her neck to see what was going on.

"Calm down, students," the teacher, Ms. pym, said, not looking up from her phone. 

A tall, curly-haired bit had entered the room and was scanning it for a place to sit. Several basketball players motioned for him to sit with them, but the guy ignored them. 

"That's Luke Smallbone,"a girl whispered to her friend."He played for this team, the Falcons, and they won the nationals."

"No way."

"It's true. He's good. And cute."

That was true. Luke rivaled the men in Macy's catalogs and on the covers of the magazines in Walmart. 

But Court knew that she didn't have a chance with him. Nor did she want to.

Then he did something surprising.  Something that would change their lives-forever. 

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Luke panicked. The room was loud and people were talking about him. His (future?) basketball teammates motioned for him to join them, but he didn't want to go to the other side of the room. So Luke rushed to the back and plopped down next to a dark-haired girl in a hoodie. 

All at once, the rumors started again. 

He's sitting next to the slut! 

He's new, he doesn't know. 

Oh my gosh, he's sitting next to her. 

The girl flared at the desk, as if this was it's fault. And for the rest of class, both sat awkwardly: him nervous and confused, her silently raging. 

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