Bad Girl•l.h•

Chapter Two

I fall back onto the couch, looking around the new house. It was nice. Big and very nice. The living room now had a projector for movies and video games, and a huge speaker system for music and the projector. We got a new couch, giving everyone their own reclining seat with a cup holder. It's possibly the fluffiest thing I've ever sat upon. Kudos to Aunt Mae and Uncle Roger for having amazing jobs.

Dylan plops down beside me, taking a swig of his soda. Who knew what flavour of pop it was, Auntie Mae bought it today grocery shopping. Dylan seemed to enjoy it, downing four before I had the chance to get one. He hands the can out to me and I gladly accept, taking a sip. Yum, vanilla coke flavoured. I give Dylan back the can and he takes a sip. "Excited for school this afternoon?"

"Kinda," I shrug. "Nice to get the morning off from classes. Elliot texted about ten minutes ago saying the school was awesome. What a loser, taking morning classes. It kinda sucks I have morning classes on the second day schedule. I want to stay up late and sleep in everyday."

"I feel you," Dylan sighs, crushing the now empty can. "There better be hot chicks to make it worth the while."

We both laugh and get up from the couch. It was time to go to the school. I grab my bag from the front hallway, taking my keys from the rack and sliding on my Vans. I click open my new Sky Blue Chevy 1994 truck and toss my stuff in the back. Dylan hops in beside me, putting his stuff with mine. He plugs his phone into the brand new speakers, playing whatever electronic dubstep bullshit he listens to.

"Why aren't you in shorts?" He asks as I pull onto the road.

I give him a goofy grin, pulling out my cigarettes. "Because I'm too punk for that."

He laughs, taking the pack and lighting one up. "You don't have any shorts, do you?"

"In my defence, we lived in Canada," I retort. We both take a drag as I open both windows. He says roughly the same thing Uncle Roger said the other day and I shake my head. "I quit quitting, too hard," I reply, pulling into the parking lot.

Dylan grabs his bag and takes off towards the school, leaving me to my own in the truck. I throw open my door and hop out, stumbling into someone. The tall figure helps me steady my balance and gives me a goofy grin. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," I stutter back.

"I haven't seen you before, you must be new," he smiles, letting go of my arm. "I'm Ashton."

The heat rises to my cheeks as I struggle to reply. "I am new here. First day actually. I'm Elizah Kimberly, but my family calls me Kid."

"Kid, since you are new, I'm going to introduce you to my friends. I'm on my way to my first class now." He insists, grabbing my arm and pulling me along. "What's your first class?"

"Uh, Music with Dudicroft." I shout out as if this were a game of Jeopardy. He loosens his grip on my arm, but still leads me through the building.

"Me too. My friends are in their as well. You'll love Mikey, and you're a lot like Luke. Sweet but badass." Ashton says. He continues talking as we enter a large room. "We're all in a band. Calum is in the band too, you'll like him as well. He's cheeky."

I smile and take a seat next to the one Ashton sat down in. "Thank you, but I thi- wait, did you say a band?"

Ashton nods and gives a smug grin. "I play drums and the other three play guitar. We all sing."

"I sing, too!" I shout, excitement taking over. "And play wicked piano. I've managed to cross modern pop with Motzart classical. I've always wanted to be in a band."