Briarwood Preparatory Academy

Violet's eyes widened when Carter stood to leave, saying he'd heard better. Her jaw dropped a little, but then she realized and closed her mouth. The professor said that she had the part, and simply left the room. A small smile cane onto her face; she'd been very worried that she hadn't done well. She let out a sigh of relief and looked to Conner. Once the door shut behind the teacher, her smile became huge and radiant. "Good enough for me!" she said. She would have to practice harder to impress Carter, but for now she had the part she wanted, and a chance of getting to play the Fazioli all year! She stood up and pushed in the bench. She blushed a bit at Conner's compliment. "Thanks!!"
 
(( [MENTION=646]Xx-Katherine-xX[/MENTION] I'm not going to reply Megan because I have a question. What should start the fight between them? ))


Chase felt his phone buzzing in his back pocket. He pulled it out from his pocket to avoid smashing it on the pavement again. His screen was already cracked enough. He read the cracked screen. It was a text from Daniella. He smiled. He'd been texting her quiet often since he and Morgan's relationship was getting rocky. Sometimes he didn't even know why he was trying so hard. He liked Daniella. His heart was telling him to stay with Morgan because he'd known her so long and she was his first actual love so he was just so comfortable with her all of the time. But his head on the other hand was telling him he needed to move on and give Daniella a chance. He sighed and texted Daniella back.


To: Danni


Sounds like a plan. I'll be there in 5.


He pushed his phone back into his pocket and slipped his grey sweatshirt on over his tee shirt and walked outside to meet Daniella.
 
[QUOTE="Xx-Katherine-xX]Matt shrugged "I missed you like I always do." he paused and shook his head. "It was hard to not call you but my mum thinks you're a brat and I shouldn't be dating you." He sighed and leaned his chin against the top of her head.

[/QUOTE]
(([MENTION=1929]Ash Autopsy[/MENTION], Because his family doesn't like her :) ))
 
(( [MENTION=646]Xx-Katherine-xX[/MENTION] Okie dokie (; ))


Megan shifted uncomfortably in his arms. "What do you mean brat?" She repeated the word in her head. How was she EVER a brat?
 
MAGICAL TIME SKIP POWERS





---


Veronica sighed and leafed through the multi-hundred page encyclopedia. She was sitting in a straight backed baroque-style chair upholstered in soft maroon velvet cushions, seated at one of the matching heavy walnut tables placed variously over the lower floor of the cavernous library. The table top was strewn with papers, open textbooks and resourse books, along with her sleek silver laptop whirling and humming almost silently beside her. Veronica would have chosen a more private desk on the second floor balcony that wrapped around the main floor of the library; however, she had wisely chosen the tables for their wider space to spread out--that which she was grateful for naw that she had almost every available inch of space taken up. Veronica was working on a research paper for a nationwide competition that would secure the scales that had already tipped towards her behalf. In actuality, she didn't need the award, nor the generous scholarship that came with it, but it looked good, it was something to keep her busy, and if nothing else, it was for her pride that she would remain on top of the game.


Veronica tapped on the keyboard of her MacBook Pro for a moment, made a few handwritten notes on a spiral notebook, erased what she had just typed on the screen, and closed the lid. Veronica sighed again, she had done enough for one day. A couple more hours work, a proof read, and she would be just about finished--only today wasn't going to be that day. She had a month before it was due. Veronica collected her papers neatly into a folder and her books into a pile to put everything into her laptop bag. Ironically her laptop was the only thing that wouldn't fit into the bag--without it being squished--so she carried it in her arms.


As she left the library, she waved to a couple of people she knew, with her mind off thinking about other things. Now that Veronica had made some serious progress in her essay, she had the rest of the day free really. Since Monday, Veronica had been on her feet; running around, doing things, meeting people. Things had finally settled down and Veronica was now free for recreation time.


She had run into them a couple of times, but Veronica figured she would go find her friends, Isaac and Naiire, have some tea and catch up or something. Veronica knew Isaac since they were kids, and Naiire was one of her first friends at Briarwoods and still her closest friend. Hard to think it was already Thursday and she hadn't time to talk to them yet.


---


Cameron was in her studio, classical music blaring from a speaker system on the other side of the room. Art studios at Briarwood were built off the main art room. The wall shared between the studio and the classroom were all glass while the opposite wall lokked out onto the school's gorgeous rose gardens through tall floor-to-ceiling french windows, with a pair of matching french doors that led out onto a tiny balcony. The walls were a light cream colour with white trim, and industrial lights hanging down from the ceiling. The feeling of the studio rooms were, in general: light, bright, and airy. Every year, Briarwood's art department would observe their incoming eighth grade students, from start to finish their art and performance were evaluated. At the end of every year, the two most promising art students would be rewarded their own private studio to work in starting their freshman year.


Cameron had been the first contender of her own year, and was awarded her very own studio. To her luck, she had received the coveted corner position with windows on the back wall and the one adjacent to it. Since then, Cameron has made the space her own; hanging things from the vaulted ceiling, putting up posters of her favourite artists as well as some of her own pieces, among various other things from which she drew inspiration. One that she was especially proud of was a sculpture almost as tall as the ceiling, placed precisely in the center of the room. It was a project she did to test her limits of her skills as well as an exposition for the New Haven Museum of Art. She made it entirely out of blow glass, there were orbs and twists and all kinds of shapes. The whole thing took her about three months starting at the begining of her preceeding school year, and finally got after it's exhibition towards the end of the year. Now that it was back and on display in her studio, Cameron always admired how it would catch the light all day long and cast all kinds of coloured light around the room.


It was a beautifully warm day out, overcast again, though with a spectacularly cool breeze. Cameron had the french doors to her studio popped open, the breeze moving through them and making the paper around the room rustle lightly. Cameron herself was on the balcony with a sketch pad propped in her lap. She was lounging in a cushy white arm chair from inside with her feet kicked up on the railing. Classical music floated to her from inside as she sketched with charcoal. The subject of her portrait was a sketch of Dane. Cameron put a few finishing strokes across the paper, capturing the strength in his jaw, the softness in his eyes, the way his hair swept back when the wind blew at it. She smiled slightly at the picture, setting her stick of charcoal aside, and wiped her hand on her apron before picking up her iPhone 4S and tapping on the screen.





To: Dane


We still on for our "Anniversary" picnic today?


---


Conner was sitting in the dormitory common room. He was slouched down into the couch cushions, cradling his acoustic and playing an absent tune and humming along to it. Thinking and reflecting. Conner was wearing a simple navy blue V-neck shirt with a pair of khaki shorts. He wasn't exactly sure what he should do, he knew that he should probably be recording or editing for some song he had come to write over the summer, but he really didn't feel up to it at the moment. Thinking at how he was just sitting there basically alone with guitar made his think about how he could use some company. He wanted to learn how to play the drums; Conner knew there was a drum set in the band room, but he felt totally uninspired to to anything. Instead he let out a deep breath and picked himself up off the couch, swinging his guitar around his back. He decided to go for a walk--though not really knowing where his legs should take him.


He strolled along through the gardens. Conner liked listening to the birds and the sound of the breeze rustling through the trees, it was like natures own song--one that couldn't be copyrighted or pirated or fought over. Nature was pure, it belonged to nobody. Conner came along to the outdoor amphitheater. The stones worn level into the ground were weathered. The school never really used the place anymore, it was mostly a student hangout. Conner saw it as a shame if the school would have renovated this place too, to disturb the rustic beauty of the place. There were memories invested in this place, they may not be his, but they were someone's even if it was long ago back when the school was first established. It's important to keep your roots, some things just don't grow old.


Conner sat down on the stone stage part of the amphitheater, pulled his guitar up to his chest, and took his pick from his shirt pocket. This place was too good to be spoiled by some trendy pop song being sung to it, somehow it seemed rude. So instead he tuned his guitar for a deeper richer, and played something of a complicated Latin-Spanish melody.
 
Violet was locked away in her room as usual. She had on her glasses - which she rarely wore due to the fact that she'd acquired contacts over the summer - and was strumming away on her beloved bass guitar. She had always hated when people described this instrument as 'empty' when there were no others being played. She for one thought that it's low hums were perfect all on their own. She stopped playing when she heard a low rumbling noise that wasn't the guitar. She looked around for the source of the noise just to realize it was her own stomach.


Violet let out a sigh. Going to the cafeteria to get something to eat seemed like such a hassle, especially since she was in her pajamas (which she had put on immediately following class). She set the bass aside, making sure to unplug it and shut the amp off. Stripping herself of her clothing, she dug around her dresser until she found something suitable enough to wear to eat dinner in: some distressed short shorts and a white cami-style tank top which was thin enough to be comfortable and airy but thick enough that no one would see through it. She combed her fluffy black hair and threw on some white flip flops before heading out of the dorm.


Halfway to the dining hall, Violet realized she was still wearing her nerdy thick black glasses. She grumbled in disbelief, but left them on rather than turning back. There was a chilly fall breeze and, while her legs never really got cold, she wished she'd at least brought a jacket. She was really out of it today... Walking along, Violet completely got lost in her thoughts, zoning out and not paying any attention to anything else around her.
 
As Rosa had expected the meeting with Chase had been nothing but trouble. It had only confirmed what she already knew which was that she liked him; she liked him too much especially considering he had a girlfriend. Which meant one thing, she had to distance herself from him so as not to cause trouble for herself or anyone else.


Thus she threw herself into her studies and her riding, especially her riding. She spent almost all of her free time at the barn and that was where she was today. She was tacking Thorn up for yet another training ride. The dapple grey stallion snorted softly in the cross ties as she cooed to him. She wrapped his legs lovingly in her favorite black polos before setting all of his shining tack upon his back. Playing through her ear phones was a recording of her vocabulary for Latin class. She tried to study while she tacked up, it helped her manage her time more effectively.


https://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash4/293603_10150272964649141_7464788_n.jpg
 
Dane’s phone buzzed while he was busy putting the finishing touches on his gift to Cam. Than again she wouldn’t know the gift was from him specifically, because he was cooking them lunch and since she did not know of his little secret he would have to lie and say it was from the cook. ‘Unless you tell her the truth you idiot,’ a voice inside his head pointed out with an annoying jab. The boy just huffed ignoring it; no he was not ready for that quite yet. Some things he wanted to keep to himself even if he wasn’t sure why.


The silver chrome of the sink sent a glare across the bright and open kitchen. It was a very modern space filled with the newest of appliances and the finest at that. The chef had long ago given him free reign of the space saying as long as it was clean in the end he could care less. He ran his hands across the white and cream granite counter tops as he waited for the pasta to finish boiling. Dane had already made the sandwiches, turkey on raisin swirl bread with a thin layer of a special herb spread and a leaf of basil, he himself had refused to touch them when the chef first made them but now he couldn’t get enough of the little sandwiches. Those were packed away in the wicker picnic basket and once the pasta salad was ready he would start on the dessert.


At that moment the water began to boil, Dane set down the knife on the cutting board and dumped half a box of spiral cut pasta into the water and added some oil and salt before returning to the cutting board. He had already mixed the vinaigrette for the pasta salad and all that was left was to cut the sun dried tomatoes and chives. He quickly finished and walked back over to the boiling pasta. He dumped the contents of the pot into a strainer and waited for it to cool. In this time he picked up his phone checking his messages.


FROM: Camsie


We still on for our "Anniversary" picnic today?


TO: Camsie


Yeah, meet me @ your favorite place on the beach in 2 hours


“Send, and now we rush,” Dane whispered under his breath. In a blur of movement he finished making the pasta and scooped ice cream onto the cookies which were now in a miniature cooler in the basket. He checked his watch and cursed under his breath, he had an hour and a half to clean the kitchen and himself and walk across campus to set up their picnic. Dane was rushing about when he heard a small cough behind him; it was the plump chef, intimidating but not mocking today. “Go,” he grunted and gestured for him to leave, “Thank you I owe you,” he called as he ran out the back of the kitchen.


He snuck around the back of the school so that no one saw him with the basket, he hid it behind his bike before slipping upstairs and getting cleaned up. When he was finally ready he checked his watch one more time, Dane still had twenty minutes to pull it off and with that he hopped on his bike and took the trails around the school to the rock on which Cam loved to read and paint.
 
Cameron was walking down the path to the beach. It was one of the out-of-the-way routes that lead to the more obsure and less popularized part of the Briarwood beaches, those happened to be the best parts for viewing the ocean and admiring it's beauty more or less so than swimming. The path was also a refreshing walk; it was narrower, and since it did see much traffic the groundskeeper didn't bother keeping it clear of debris and things, so Cameron found herself leaping over fallen branches and logs and even a small brook, a curly lock of her white blonde hair bounched around her face as she went, her pulled back into a low-ish pony-tail. Cameron was glad she had decided to dress down instead of something "formal", wearing sneakers, jeans, and a soft leather jacket over a Havard tee-shirt, she didn't think there was anything to be fancy about. Today was about them just being together.


She finally broke the tree line, expertly weaving her way and dodging a sinister plot of stinging nettles of other hearty thorn bushes to that nature. Cameron climbed a short hill, the earth making the transition from rich soil to dark sand to crunched up seashells that made up the majority of the beach. She walked along, the rushing sound of the waves washing on the shore and the gulls overhead dominated the environment; Besides the deep smooth sound of Dane's voice, it was her favourite sound. Cameron smiled at the prospect, she would get to hear them at the same time.


After another few minutes walking along the rocky beaches she came upon her spot where the craggly black granite rock protruded from the shore and along a length of the beach. The gray-blue waves crashing against the rock face. Cameron went on the top of the ledge twenty feet above the surface of the water, wind whistling from her hair, she dropped a bag down from her shoulder and pulled out a blanket, weighing it down with a few stray rocks. She finally sat down, figuring that she had arrived before Dane, so she pulled out a sketch pad out of her bag along with a pencil and started to draw whatever came to mind; which was pretty obvious who she was drawing.
 
Dane glanced at his watch and let out a low curse as he reached his bike and pedaled for the craggy beach Cam so loved. He was gonna be late which meant he would have to set up in front of her instead of everything being perfect when she got there. God, he had to work on this whole perfection complex it was really going to mess with his whole tough guy appearance if he did not quit it and he could not have that. He was not really sure why he kept up the façade, he just did. Maybe it was to prove to his parents that he really wasn’t politically or medically inclined. I mean if he were to get into politics one day he would have so many skeletons in his closet about fake knives and real knives that he kept and than there were the fights, the press would have hay day. But that was of no concern right now for right now he just needed to get to the beach.


He was forced to get off his bike as the trail got less clear and push the bike. The protruding roots and twist vines caught in his jeans but he just kept pushing knowing that everything would break or give way to him in time. Finally Dane was clear of the forest but what lay before him was solid rock and beach, as he looked to his left he could see the little trail that led to his and Cam’s favorite place. He left the red bike hidden in the trees and set off. He really wanted to kick his shoes off but he knew how sharp the shells and rocks could be so he though better of it and decided to wait until he was settled.


When he finally reached the “spot” Cam had in fact beat him there but he didn’t disturb her. No Dane just watched her for a minute taking in her serene beauty she was so quiet and beautiful when she worked and he hated to disturb her. The way she curved her and her hair fell covering her pad of paper was so cute and if you watched closely you could see her hand moving underneath the waves of hair. Smiling he started to walk again his footsteps masked by the crashing waves and the loud calls of the gulls. “Hey Babe,” he whispered when he got up closer to her.
 
Naiire could have been found in the farthest side of the garden, finishing off her morning run. She kept her pace steady throughout, habitually following 180 steps per minute as she had learned long ago. Just a few meters ahead was the breakoff that lead to the shore. Her mind had pondered a while before making the turn, now feeling the soft sand through her sneakers. She slowed down in small intervals, now feeling the effects of her heart and lungs for her long-awaited rest. She reached for her small pack and pulled out a partially frozen, unopened bottle of water. The bottle had met with her abdomen, which made her sigh deeply as a refreshing chill went through her. After catching her breath a little, Naiire sat down and pulled off her shoes, gently digging her feet into the cool earth as she laid down and thought a moment.


So far, Naiire's week had been going quite smooth so far, in terms of no extra complications whatsoever. Her roommate hadn't been a burden, despite the fact she hadn't quite presented herself. Isaac is becoming an entertaining companion to her, and she hopes that their relationship can last as long as it can at the moment. Though there was something she could not help getting over: what if Veronica were to find out? Veronica was a close friend of hers and they were at least supposed to tell each other everything, but she knew of Veronica's social power in this school, especially the power she had over even the most exclusive of couples. Though it sounded silly, and rather low, to place a mate before a best friend, she knew Veronica, and that any real chance with Isaac may be jeopardized if she were to find out.
 
Isaac would usually be sleeping around this point in the morning, but he had planned a little surprise for his girlfriend. Well, it was supposed to be a surprise until he had failed himself; all he had to do was get up a little bit earlier and join Naiire for her daily run. It was a ritual for the girl, and when he first heard of it, he didn’t really find it that surprising that she tried to keep to her active lifestyle. They would usually plan something by the time he was up, just for some conversation between the awkward couple.


He was new at this, the closest thing he had to a girlfriend before Naiire was Veronica and they had been childhood friends. It was a different relationship now, and he was at a lost f how to handle it, so he went with what his gut told him.


The plan today was to wake up early and join Naiire on her morning run, surprising her and hopefully providing her with some company. After he has slept through the alarm twice though, he realized he wouldn’t exactly meet up with her at the dorm. It was too bad he had forgotten to ask where she ran…or anything about running more than what time she started and usually finished.


Damn.


It was lucky for him that finding that sort of information fell right into his ballpark; he was a reporter on the side after all, a fact that Naiire had yet to find out. It would seem he wasn’t the only elusive one, as when he finally exited his room in a t-shirt, backwards hat and comfy black jeans, he had no idea where he was going. Who were Naiire’s friends? Sure he knew a lot of the clubs she was in and he would recognize some of the people… but names? Forget it.


The truth was he didn’t do a search through her friends, or look up any back information for he was too interested to care.


It would put a damper on finding her, and instead he had to look a little creepier than he was used to, walking around campus. Eyes were searching for the familiar blonde, and eventually he asked people with his normal friendly demeanor. They had directed him to the beach, where he had strolled along the regular shore, spotting his girlfriend down the sands


“G’morning, beautiful!” he greets, always ready to flirt.
 
Naiire's thoughts had been instantly interrupted by Isaac's voice, a pleasant surprise that Naiire hadn't quite expected. Referring back to her previous thoughts, however, the reunion seemed bittersweet. Naiire lifted her head from the ground to find him, as well as to take a quick scan around the area.


"Hey, good morning!" She replied, sitting up to dust the sand off her hair and back. She took a sip of water before standing fully up, heading over to Isaac for a hug.
 
Naiire’s blue eyes met him on the beach and he smiled widely, watching as she scanned the area again before taking a sip of water. It was when he was about five feet away that she stood up, and approached him for a hug, which he gladly enveloped her in. Picking her up briefly to give a squeeze, he slightly chuckled at his own antics towards his girlfriend.


After he put her down, he scanned her over, “I had planned to join you on your morning run…” he noted, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. “I slept in instead” he noted, frowning.
 
"Awww. Well, at least you tried," Naiire replied, knocking his hat off his head, only to catch and hold it in her hands. "But hey, not everyone can wake up at the ass-crack of dawn just to run everywhere," she added, giggling.


Noticing his once over, Naiire noticed that his attire wasn't exactly beach-friendly. In fact, she doubted that he would've found her here at first. Her stomach suddenly rumbling, she walked away from Isaac to obtain her gear and shoes, and walked back over to Isaac. "So, where are we heading?" She asked, now ready to freshen up and eat, now that she thought about it.
 
At the sound of his voice, Cameron dropped her pad, leaned backwards, and looked up at him, a smile creeping across her lips. She stood up, slipped her hands in his and said, "Hey, handsome. Fashionably late as usual, I see," she joked and kissed his cheek. "Oh, and Happy 'Anniversary'," Cameron caught sight of the basket Dane brought and raised a curious eyebrow and smirked, "What's this?" On a hunch she took and expiremental whiff and breathed in the aroma of whatever lunch they would be dining on. "Smells wonderful. How could I ever be hungry when you cater?"


[[crap-tastic post]]
 
Dane smiled as she teased him about his less than shining attendance record. Than again attendance was the right word because you usually showed up but he usually arrived on the late side of things. He was about to return the kiss and wish her a Happy Anniversary when her last statement made him freeze. How could she know about his secret or was it just a simple matter of phrasing. He let out a strained laugh, "Well I mean I didn't cook it, the school chef made it I just picked it up," he said cutting his eyes at her as he spread the blanket. She couldn't know, wouldn't she be furious or at least upset with him for not telling her about his pass time? Or maybe he had this all built up in his mind and he was just being self absorbed. But if she knew, who else might know and who had leaked it?
 

Morgan lifted her legs onto the wooden bench and sighed softly as she readjusted her drawing pad in her lap. Her back was beginning to hurt from hunching over the bound pieces of paper. She crossed her legs over each other and looked back at the flowers she was attempting to sketch, placing her white sketch pad in her lap. They were roses, probably the first she's seen since she's returned. She felt like she could relate to those flowers. With their glossy, velvety, red. She always thought that that if a rose could turn into a person, they'd be a slut. But maybe they were just misunderstood. Like her. The thorns would prick anyone who'd try to pick them, try to take them out of their habitat and threaten their way of life, but maybe they just didn't want to change. Maybe they were afraid of it. Afraid of people understanding them. Maybe like they were hiding something. People think they understand them, but maybe they just think they do. Maybe they want to be more than a beautiful flower. And they'd wish people would just stop plucking and judging them.


Morgan sat back on the hard, uncomfortable, bench, making another stroke with her pencil to begin one of the petals, a cool breeze blowing her long blonde hair into her face. She cursed under her breath, feeling the unmistakable feeling of loneliness, it was the first world she's said in probably the last day to anyone. And the word left a bitter taste in her mouth, knowing that the word wasn't for anyone else but the wind. She was talking to the wind. She lifted the pencil from the paper and pressed the eraser to her bottom lip. Her thoughts were bouncing off each other. Amazing how your own thoughts tend to keep you company when no one else is around to do it. And half of her's were about Chase. Feeling bad about losing her temper at Chase. Not deserving Chase. Chase probably has another girl in his interest by now. Were her and Chase even dating anymore? They'd barley talked all summer, and if they ever did, it usually turned into an argument over text message. She rested her elbow on the back of the bench and leaned her head on her hand. Chase probably hated her. Probably tired of all the bullshit. She couldn't blame him.


She stared at the roses some more, wishing she could trade places with one of them. She closed her sketchpad and stood up. She needed human contact. She was sure of it. Once you want to trade places with a flower, you know that your life is sad. Just as sad as the fact that her personality was probably similar to the thorns. And with that thought in her head, she walked off, going in any direction, she didn't really care where she ended up at this point.


----


Logan combed his hair back with her fingers and sighed, looking around the fairly empty garden. He needed something to do. Someone to talk to. Khloe and most of his friends were no where to be found and the last thing he wanted to do was resort to the internet for entertainment. He let out a long breath from his mouth as he looked up at the sky, ripping out little bits of grass he was laying upon.

​
 
Cameron shrugged, let go of one of his hands and sat down on the cloth, pulling Dane behing her. She started laying the picking the food up out of the basket. "Its just that--Oh, wow," Cameron exclaimed, her eyebrows raised. Her finger was at her lips after she had gotten a dab of the spread from the sandwiches and licked it off. "--Just that the chefs here despise students hawking food off of them. Yet, you continue to baffle me at how you always seem to coax the best food out of the chefs." She shook her head and glanced down, expelling a ridiculous thought from her head. Cameron eyes shifted back to Dane's, "Hey, something wrong?"
 

Logan began humming to himself absently and closed his eyes. He knew there were probably a billion other things to do right now that would be productive, but as he usually does, he ignored the urgency. He really just wanted to do something he knew would have little to no benefit for him. Something to just entertain him more than anything else. He sat up, his back feeling slightly damp from the moist ground he'd been lying on. He looked around then stood up, all of the few people around looked occupied. There had to be someone around who was as bored as him. He walked toward the school's gardens, in hope that he'd stumble upon something that was mildly interesting.


He walked along the gardens until he found the school's old amphitheater, looking as untouched by professional hands as ever. It was a great place to hold outdoor concerts, he didn't know why almost no one from the school bothered with it anymore. He let his thumbs sink into jean pockets and looked up and around at all the tall trees, beautiful flowers, slightly absorbed in the beauty of the school he'd forgotten about over the summer. He was so absorbed in fact, that he almost didn't notice the music playing in the background. He turned back to the stage to find Conner, playing a familiar Hispanic-sounding song. "Last time I checked you liked indie bands, Greyson." he smirked.

​
 
Dane shook his head a relieved smile spreading over his face, his secret was safe for a bit longer. He spread his legs in a “V” and planted his hand behind her thus creating in essence a chair for Cammie. “You know I have my connections,” he teased mysteriously breathing in the scent of her hair with a great sigh. After a moment he added, “And who knows maybe one of these days I will let you in on my little secret and you will understand my sources,” he whispered picking up one of the sandwiches he had packed and unwrapping it with expert hands. He really had no idea when he was going to tell her about his secret joy but he knew that one day he would. “So my beauty how are you doing on out lovely anniversary?” he cooed in her ear enticingly.
 
Cameron smiled and leaned into his shoulder, "Don't worry, I'll bid my time and get it out of you when you least expect it. I can be very persuasive when I want to. . . ." She lifted and eyebrow and stroked his cheek. "But I wouldn't do that. You know where to find me when you feel like talking. In the meantime I'll be plotting far-fetched stories to explain the unknown." Cameron moved her hand down to his chest and began to make circles around his collar bone with her finger. "Anyways, I'm having a wonderful day. Spent the morning in the studio, sitting out on the balcony, listening to music, and, of course, drawing pictures of my favorite subject."


[MENTION=1136]14hca14[/MENTION]


~


Conner was strumming away at his guitar when a flash of color caught the corner of his eye. Of course, there was a lot of color, but this was more of a moving color that he recognized as a person. Conner didn't really like people lurking around, kinda seemed rude--he didn't care if people heard him play, just if they tried to hide that they were listening to him playing, like they were ashamed. Conner looked up and realized that the person walking around was Logan, his roommate. A smile spread across his face and he stopped playing, the last note he played echoing inside the guitar. "Don't be a stranger!" Conner called across the amphitheater. "Join me!"


@RayneStyles
 
Tatiana rocked up to this new school, clad in leather shorts, a white tank-top and a black leather fitted jacket, her hair was pulled back with a red bandana and she allowed her black designer ankle boots to make the ominous clacking sound echo through the hallways. She pulled off her black sunglasses and looked around smirking lightly.


Bree and James think this school is going to fix me. I'll show them exactly what this school is gonna do to me.


Tatiana began her decent down the hallway, heading for trouble.
 
Veronica was walking down the hallways, her bag across her shoulders and her laptop in her hands. She was on her way to her dormitory room to put her things away then probably do something afterward. She glanced at her watch, it was about noon, lunchtime. She stepped off the oriental rugged floors and up the marble staircase, her heals clacking as she went. Veronica unlocked her room door and set her things on her desk, then locked the door after her and headed down to the Dining Hall. On her way through the Grand Hallway her eye landed upon an unfamiliar student. She usually didn't bother with the eighth graders and the freshman, but this girl looked to be a junior or senior. Not too curious of Briarwood, they usually found people after they had exposed their talents in some attention-drawing way to bring themselves into Briarwood's limelight, sometimes it was later rather than earlier. But there were also the parents who found the school and applied their child; Briarwood had somewhat of a bad reputation for taking in a few non-remarkable students from time to time. Veronica wondered what the deal was with this one and found herself walking toward the new girl. She tossed her hair over her shoulder thoughtfully. It seemed like everything in the girl screamed 'unaproachable', at least that was Veronica's impression. Nethertheless, she walked up to the girl and stuck out her hand, put on a pleasant smile, and said, "Veronica Holiday, Senior class president. You don't look familiar so I assume it's safe to say, 'Welcome to the Academy'!"
 
As the preppy looking girl hurried over, an annoying smile on her even more annoyingly-pretty face, Tatiana raised an eyebrow. "Seriously? Your last name is Holiday?" She smirked, planting a hand on her hip, "Which one are you? Christmas, Easter, perhaps Halloween?"


Tatiana's plan was to annoy the girl and give a delightfully bad first impression of herself. She'd show Bree and James just how bad she could really be.


She looked at the girl's hand like it was covered in slime, "I don't feel rather welcome at all Veronica." She looked back up at the girl, smirking, "Isn't this the famous Briarwood? I thought they'd have a marching band and a singer to welcome me, not some over-peppy, stupidly dressed student."
 
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