Realistic or Modern WestView High

[TheChemicalSiren]

Welcome to Westview High, home of the dolphins. School is literal hell, we all know this, and it's the first day back. Welcome to your year in hell. Welcome back to the drama and heartbreak.

• Clubs & Activities

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  You can be in up to 3
  
  
  
  
  • Swimming
    
  • Softball
    
  • Basketball
    
  • Baseball
    
  • Football
    
  • Cheerleading
    
  • Glee Club
    
  • Soccer
    
  • Anime Club
    
  • Leadership Club
    
  • Gay-Straight Alliance
    
  
  
  

 

[spooktacular]

((Sorry if my posts are super lengthy, lmao, but the first ones always tend to be. Thought it would be fun to hit up two characters XP))


Lola Gray


The Drama Queen



​

For timid yet hopeful, up-and-coming-starlet named Lola Gray, the first day of high school was the first day of excitement. Despite her good grades, none of her friends could call Lola the studious type by a long-shot - rather, she planned to skip college altogether and be a clothes designer for her aunt's shop - but she loved the ins and outs of the fantasy that was high school nonetheless. One could say it was the breeding ground of all things interesting to the brand new freshman. The 'who's-dating-who?', the lunchroom brawls, the 'she's-wearing-what?' - although many would consider it petty, day to day affairs were a topic of intrigue to Lola, and this year, it would be in her solemn duty to boldly go where no wallflower had gone before: in the sacred and mysterious realm of 'in the know'.


Perhaps it would be the year she'd achieve popularity, she hoped, rather than being glued to the hip of only one taciturn buddy and distantly related to several loose acquaintances. They were all nice, of course, but it was more that Lola sought - a chance for not only her to reach the limelight on that giant teenage stage, but maybe, for her friends to reach it too (but, mostly her).


Thanks to her father, who was more-or-less bumbling except for when it counted the most, Lola was early on her first day, and her mind-numbing cotton candy perfume permeated down the bustling corridor as she made her way to her first class. It was at the end of B hall, she remembered, thanks to the prior evening of studying her schedule up, down, and sideways. (Being a freshman was mortifying enough already; walking into the wrong classroom would have been worse than the nine circles of hell.) If her memory served her correctly - and in most cases, it did - Lola would arrive at Honors US History first, and after moments of narrowly escaping several fatal collisions with the 9 foot Seniors, Lola did just that.


First choice. Where to sit? The decision that could make or break her in the jungle that was WestView High. The room was relatively empty, so the options were rather unlimited. Sitting in the back equaled slacker. Sitting in the front meant nerd. Sitting in the middle said nobody. Lola furrowed her brows, pushing a strand of raven hair behind her ear as she studied the room. She was dressed too spectacularly to waste a good outfit on some undiscernable middle seat: a vintage style red dress that used to fit her mother, with red and white polka dot shoes that did nothing but represent everything she wanted to be.


The front would have to suffice.

Jesse Pinkman


The Stoner



​

((As a note, Jesse is a canon character from the show Breaking Bad, but I just finished rewatching it, and I thought it would be fun to kind of add him to the mix. You don't need to be a fan of the show to understand what's going on in the RP, but if you are, feel free to leave subtle references or whatever. Lmao.))


Jesse Pinkman was not, by no stretch of the imagination, a studious guy. Nor an obedient guy. Nor a sophisticated guy. Nor a totally smart guy, either, in addition to the fact that the most detestable combination of words in his vocabulary was the juxtaposition of 'apply' and 'yourself'. School was merely a place to go to make plans for the weekend, and those plans consisted of weed, weed, and - you guessed it - more weed, right from the greedy hands of the local drug dealers, a noble profession indeed. Needless to say, there was nothing that Jesse dreaded more than the first day of Junior year. His parents planned to crack down hard on him as an upperclassman, a supposed unwitting role model to the mindless little freshmen that goofed around playing teenager and the half-as-bad sophomores that were just getting the hang of things - or so they thought. No more weed, no more parties, no more stoner friends (essentially no more life as Jesse knew it) until his parents were satisfied with his reverse skyrocketing GPA.


'Yeah' was the first thought that entered Jesse's head. 'Yeah, right.'


At least he could spend time with his friends - indeed, although school did nothing short of sucking total ass, it was the perfect setting for wild antics and testing authority with all of his closest buddies: Skinny, Badger, Emilio, and all of the rest of the slackers that comprised his 'crew'. Getting roasted by your mom for smoking a blunt in the basement was one thing, but skipping class to light up in the bathroom and sprinting away from the angry Vice Principal as he shouted expletives down the hall was enough to make life very interesting.


Because of the aforementioned newfound stringency of his parents, however, Jesse was forced to arrive early on his first day, which he was certain would ruin his notorious reputation of back talking teachers as he strolled into class twenty minutes late. He initially considered loitering by the gym past the bell and purposely arriving tardy, but he decided against it in fear of losing the trust of his parents too quickly. He was already mourning the loss of many of his other favorite privileges, and having to relinquish another because of a stunt that brought him relatively little entertainment in his tired state was not the wisest move to make.


So, Jesse just leaned against the gym door and waited. Waited for his shitty first class, PE. Waited for everything to go downhill as it always did. And waited to finally begin his dreaded Junior year.

 

[TheChemicalSiren]

Chase stood outside the gym, her eyes raised to the sky, she was singing to herself. "Only fools fall for you.."


(It's all good )

 

[spooktacular]

Jesse Pinkman


The Stoner



​

After a moment of contemplating how exactly he could commence his Junior year as an undercover stoner yet still win back the favor of his beloved parents, Jesse, whose head was leaned against the white brick wall next to the gym door, his blue eyes locked to something inexplicably fixating on the ceiling, was distracted by something melodic coming from his general vicinity. It didn't take readjusting his position to recognize that the sound was singing, and that the song was something rather romantic, although Jesse had no knowledge of the tune itself. He preferred music of the more hip-hop persuasion. However, even his taste wasn't as refined as most, Jesse wasn't immune to recognizing talent when he heard it. That chick (or extremely high-pitched dude) was good. And Jesse was bored enough to say something.


"Yo," he said, almost toppling over as he repositioned himself into a more attentive posture so he could get a better look at the rockstar. Yep, it was a girl. "You're really good."

 

[TheChemicalSiren]

Chase jumped back, "Oh! Thanks!" She grinned at the male in front of her, taking in his appearance. She blushed and looked at the ground, she recognized him from other years.

 

[SuppaStar13]

Apollo:


Since it was the first day of school, Apollo's bag was filled and could literally weigh a ton. He need to set the first meeting date for the leadership club, and it needed to be soon because he knew the incoming freshmen were going to be a handful. Also in his backpack was his practice clothes, because it was the first day of try-outs. He was not really nervous about try-outs today since he made varsity last year. Walking into school he checked his schedule and proceeded to the locker room to drop off his clothes.

 

[spooktacular]

Jesse Pinkman


The Stoner
​

Although the girl recognized Jesse, Jesse didn't recognize the girl. It wasn't anything against her, of course. She was actually rather pretty, and her honey blond hair and distinct Korean features would have been memorable to anyone else but Jesse, since most people at WestView weren't perpetually high or perpetually thinking about getting high as the young slacker was. In any event, the newfound color in her cheeks added even more life to her face, and that was something Jesse did notice, but only in the more subconscious recesses of his young stoner mind. His conscious was dwelling more along the lines of her singing voice, which was quality to say the least.


Although Jesse was undeniably more of the outsider type, he wasn't against striking up a conversation with a stranger if there was nothing else to do, especially if there was something particular about them that he wanted to point out. Jesse, despite his slacker facade and general disrespect for authority, couldn't necessarily be described as a rude guy, as long as he wasn't offended or suspicious of something in particular - and in this case, there didn't seem to be anything better to do.


"Yeah," he said, nodding slightly. "No, you should definitely join like... Drama Club, or something. If they've got that here..."

 

[TheChemicalSiren]

Chase smiled at him, "I'm in the Glee Club.' She laughed and leaned against the wall, "What's wrong?"

 

[spooktacular]

Jesse Pinkman


The Stoner
​

Jesse's thoughts of the girl being pretty were slowly starting to become more and more apparent in his conscious, and Jesse was always a sucker for an attractive girl. He too was fairly handsome, in that cute slacker kind of way, with cerulean blue eyes often referred to as dazzling and a smile that could often be quite endearing. Of course, his overly baggy clothes, horrid posture, and colorful way of speaking could be seen as quite detrimental to his overall attractiveness, but to some girls, he was just the kind of adventure they were looking for - and this kind of handsomeness, although certainly not that of your conventional debonair gentleman, was one that Jesse was quite aware of, and often used to his advantage.


"Oh, uh, nothing," he said, smiling. There was a momentary delay between the girl's question and Jesse's answer, and Jesse could blame that on his thorough admiration of her features - this time, consciously, too. The stoner's smile widened. "I'm, uh, fine, yeah. So what's up with Glee Club, eh? You guys, like, sing and dance and stuff?"

 

[TheChemicalSiren]

"Yep, we also do competitions." Chase beamed at him, playing with her hair with one finger. "It's really fun. What do you do?"

 

[spooktacular]

Jesse Pinkman


The Stoner
​

Jesse thought the hair-playing thing was cute, so he beamed right back at her. Despite his blatant admiration of her appearance, Jesse's feelings for the girl were rather superficial, and although he figured they would never cross paths again after their brief interaction at the gym entrance, he at least was passing the time in a harmless, pleasant way. Jesse wasn't much of a player - most girls thought he was a loser anyway, unless they were seeking the thrill of dating some kind of badboy (a thrill, that is, that Jesse's own sort of harmfulness was barely able to satisfy) - but he certainly enjoyed flirting with pretty girls.


"Competitions," he repeated, nodding along to what she said. "That sounds interesting." Jesse shrugged, taking a step closer with his hands in his pockets. "I like to stay on the outside. Just kinda lay low with my crew, hunt for some action, party. It's pretty, ah, clandestine." Despite his slight mispronunciation of the word, the smug, self-assured look on Jesse's face suggested that the young stoner was proud of using such professional language, in addition to the fact that he successfully misrepresented himself as being far more of an outlaw than he truly was.

 

[TheChemicalSiren]

Chase shrugged, "Never been to a party," She snorted. "Seems fun though." She shrugged. She hummed quietly and ran a hand through her hair

 

[spooktacular]

Jesse Pinkman


The Stoner
​

Jesse may have been a dumb slacker, but he certainly wasn't dumb enough to overlook the fact that the girl was starting to lose interest. Before their conversation, she was singing, and this, this humming - this beautifully melodic humming that would have impressed Jesse had he not been so worried about losing her engagement - was a crystal clear sign that she was one step away from singing yet again, which was not a good reflection on Jesse's conversation skills. When a pretty girl stops what she's doing to talk to you, you better not be dull enough to make her want to jump right back to her original activity. It was like, in the Dude's Handbook, or something.


Despite his worry, Jesse tried desperately to appear unfazed. "C'mon, you've seriously never been to a party before?" he said, laughing a little, Although Jesse was born in the southwest, his accent was slightly reminiscent of that of a street hoodlum from New York, and this was especially apparent in his 'ar's. 'Party' was subtly 'porty', without the hokey mafia twist - and Jesse couldn't quite remember when his voice became this way, but it certainly wasn't natural. Probably came from osmosis, or whatever the hell it was called: one member of his crew spoke that way, then another, then another, then it transferred on to him. A product of his environment. Jesse grinned. "Yo, the more the merrier. You come to one of our parties, and everything is interesting."

 

[MoxxyMoxx]

Mikey Thomson


Mikey, as always, was late. He had passed out last night after coming home from graffiti-ing. Music and art were the only two things that Mikey could express himself with. He was a talented artist, a skilled guitarist and an amazing singer according to some. To others he was just another outcast wanting attention but to him he was Mikey. A Junior with no siblings or father who enjoys art and music.


With his blue electric guitar around him and his backpack loose on his shoulder, he arrived at the school tired and in need of water. He walked inside and quickly went to his locker, grabbed his book and when to his first class, US History, late. He was so dead.

 

[mkuchiha]

Garcias cruised down the hall, his expression blank and indifferent. Most people his age hated coming here, while most said they hated it to sound call. Garcias though neither hated or loved school, school was just a mere stepping stool before acheving his goal.


He looked down at the paper he was given, and glanced back up at the locker in front of him. '3005.' It was a match. He deposited his bag inside the locker and grabbed his supplies for first period, Algebra II.


He slammed the locker into place and nagivated the halls, until he found the classroom. Classes didn't start yet, but he had didn't feel like hanging out in the hallway, he'd rather stay in the classroom until the bell rang.


He found a desk at the southern corner of the classroom, and sat down, laying his stuff on the desk.

 

[spooktacular]

Lola Gray


The Drama Queen
​

With a familiar resounding blare that sent children of all ages groaning with dread for the official start of school, the halls were abuzz with busy students exchanging schedules with their friends, chattering about the highlights of their summer, and swarming with purpose into the rooms of their first period class at the signal of the morning bell. It was traditional high school activity, the kind Lola would one day become so accustomed to, and as a wave of unrecognizable yet oh-so-promising faces filed into Honors US History, the young queen-bee hopeful was beginning to truly feel the excitement of her new teenage lifestyle - and with one final ring, she was ready to start the day.


The teacher, a younger man with short dark hair and big brown eyes that almost likened him to a high schooler, scrawled his name on the whiteboard in slanted chicken scratch that would have been almost impossible for Lola to read if she hadn’t already known his name. Mr. Bettinson was what it said on her schedule, a guide that was initially too complicated for her plebeian middle-school mind, and Lola quickly noticed that the way he walked with his hands in his pockets and swiveled on his heel when he turned was rather indicative of his young age. She figured most students would have a crush on him if he wasn’t a total bore - she knew she was certainly starting to develop one.


With his hands in his pockets, the young teacher approached a large stack of spiral books and papers on his desk, which he did in a way far too cool and casual for an adult, a high school history teacher no less. Intently, he began to systematically call names of students in alphabetical order, beckoning them to take an agenda book, extra schedule, locker combination, and information about back to school night when they neared his desk. Lola wondered why he didn't just place one at every seat, asking kids to find their names as they entered the room, but she was grateful that he wasn't assigning desks - with the way things were, she could sit in a place where she truly shined.


After several moments of this collective bout of getting his students up to speed, Mr. Bettinson passed out the last of the packets and took a seat at his own desk, leaning back in a rather nonchalant manner that Lola could never imagine any teacher do but him. She quickly pegged him as one of those strangely intelligent slackers back when he was a high school student, and she smiled at the thought of it as she observed the papers she collected from his distribution. Nothing particularly of note, of course, but Lola was once told she looked cute while reading, and it was her primary objective to look as cute as possible as she ignored Mr. Bettinson's explanation of the true due date of the summer work and his apologies for making them read out of a college level text.


Nothing about this procedure particularly enamored Lola besides her thoughts of looking oh-so-adorable as she left her eyes locked to something random on her agenda book - that was, until, a boy walked in, looking rather flustered, with an electric guitar on his back. He was fifteen minutes late.


"Hey," said Mr. Bettinson, doing a quick semi-circle in his chair to face the dark-haired student. He pulled a lone packet off of his desk as he rose, and gave a small smile to the kid as he outstretched the papers, scanning the name quickly before clearing his throat. "Are you Mike Thomson?" the teacher asked, thin brows raised. "Don't worry about being late. It's still the first day. I was just telling these guys that their summer work is due this Friday. Take a seat where you'd like."

 

[mkuchiha]

The bell rang about fifteen minutes later, and with the high pitch blaring came a flood of high school students. He regarded them with one eye before closing it, being that none of them were interesting. They didn't learn much in middle school on the first day of school, so he thought it would be the same for high school. He fidgeted in his seat, trying to make himself comfortable.


The period was about forty-five minutes long, and all of it was focused on rules and regulations. Garcia though tuned it out, and doodled mindlessly on the student handbook he was given. His teacher, a sour looking middle aged women, easily caught on and stopped mid sentence to send him a glare.


Garcia sent back a glare of his own before dismissing her and turning his attention back to the drawing he was making. The teacher gaped at his 'disrespect' and approached him, feet stomping in anger all the way to his desk. He heard her, but kept drawing. The teacher raised her hand to snatch it, but he quickly grabbed it and brought it closer to him.


"Give me the drawing, Mr.Garcia." He could tell the teacher was about to explode. Her face was pink, her hands were trembling, and her eyes were smouldering with anger.


"Why?" He looked at her calmly, and forced down a smile. "What did I do?"


The class was roaring with laughter, and the teacher's veins were popping out.


"I repeat," She hissed through clenched teeth, "Give me the drawing. Do you realize that you are committing insubordination."


Garcia smirked crunched up the paper, and flung it in a trash can about ten feet away. The teacher growled and grabbed him by the sleep, her fingernails digging into his skin.


"Get out!" Her mouth gaped open as if to say more, but she decided against it. "Get out and I'll deal with you later."


Garcia stood up, grabbed his stuff and shuffled out of the classroom.

 

[MoxxyMoxx]

Mikey walked into class late. The teacher spoke to him. "It's Mikey and that's helpful. Thanks." He sat down next to a girl before pulling out a notebook and drawing on the paper. He began to sketch out a picture of what he would later spray paint. It was a picture of a black silhouette sitting with their knees to their chest and a white silhouette standing with their hand out for the black silhouette to take. He wrote underneath it a quote from Andy Biersack; Sometimes you fall down and sometimes you feel low and that's OK.

 

[spooktacular]

Lola Gray


The Drama Queen
​

Lola looked up from her papers when the dark-haired boy walked in her direction, sliding into the empty seat beside her. She had to admit that there was a strange cuteness to his features, but he seemed far too quiet and emo than the exuberant sort of kids she intended to be friends with - and certainly quite divergent from the stereotypical 'popular type' this girl was searching to be. Lola, who was beginning to become bored with the student handbook and suddenly inspired to doodle due to the boy's own silent bout of creativity, gave the guy one last glance before retrieving her pencil case from her white leather backpack and sifting through her vast collection of colored pens, which were included but not limited to some of her favorite felt-tip colors. Although her stitching skills were still somewhat underdeveloped, Lola had a talent for drawing fashion models and sketches for her latest design ideas, so she began to draw rapidly on the back of her parent visitation flyer, a dress that she'd vow to wear nowhere else but on her runway debut.

Spoiler

As in all of her sketches, the main model was a representation of her (or, at least, the totally non-mousy, beautiful, vivacious, and sassy version of her), and she was growing more and more satisfied with her handiwork until Mr. Bettison swiveled in her direction.


"We'll start with you," he said, raising his thin brows expectantly.


It would be no underestimation to say Lola had absolutely no idea what the man was talking about.


"Hm?" the freshman asked, biting her lip slightly as she nonchalantly returned the cap to her red felt pen, her green-brown eyes locked attentively to the teacher's chocolate ones. "I was just, um, looking through my handbook and-"


Bettison cleared his throat when her voice began to trail, not seeming annoyed in the least at her lack of consideration. He wasn't usually the type to address behavioral muffs such as that, especially on the first day - rather, the teacher preferred to think of his students as mini-adults, fully capable of making their own choices regarding classroom behavior, and, as long as they weren't overtly disruptive, it was entirely on their shoulders if they failed to pay attention. His brows still lifted, Bettison made the proper clarification. "Your name and something interesting about you," he said, nodding as Lola began to smile.


"Oh," the girl said cheerily, not caught off guard even slightly at a prompt that would send most kids reeling into the depths of the mortal void. Lola was shy by no stretch of the imagination, but she expected this pivotal - albeit rather cliche - question to appear in at least one of her classes, and she wanted to be prepared to give the most impressive, fascinating, and breezy response she possibly could. Her reputation depended on it. Twirling a shiny black curl around her pale finger, Lola smiled brightly. "Dolores Gray. Although you may call me Lola." (If she wasn't talking to her teacher, Lola may have ventured to wink.) "I design fashion, my favorite thing in this world is any variation of the color red, and I believe in love at first sight."


(Can you spell ridiculous?)


Mr. Bettison, who was thoroughly out of his element questioning a girl like this any further (he had an easier time conversing with the more sports oriented students, being a soccer coach himself), asked the most obvious follow-up question, just to treat her with the same sort of interest he would apply to a different sort of student, except maybe with slightly less animation.


"Fashion-designing," he repeated, nodding. He reminded Lola of a student. "That's cool. Who is your favorite designer?"


"Gwen Stefani," she answered quickly, batting her lashes in an overly rehearsed sort of way. It was blatant that she was trying too hard - and to make matters worse, Lola began to glance at the more popular members of the room, searching for their approval. "She's my idol."


Bettinson nodded yet again, taking note of her strangeness to himself, but obviously keeping his opinions hidden from the rest of the class, as any respectabe teacher should do. "Nice, Lola. What about you, Mike?" the man said, glancing in the rocker boy's direction as a seamless subject change. "What do you like to do?"

 

[MoxxyMoxx]

"It's Mikey."He said annoyed, " And I'm an artist mostly." He held up the picture he drew and showed him before putting it in his bag for later. "I also play guitar." He pulled his guitar around to his front and played a few chords. "But I keep myself to myself. It also makes it easier to look at cute boys."

 

[spooktacular]

Lola Gray


The Drama Queen

It was hard for Mr. Bettinson to hide the fact that he was taken aback by the entirety of the kid's response. First, Mikey was way to curt in his correction of his name, according to the teacher, which is something he would have addressed rather sarcastically if Mikey hadn't responded to the young teacher's prior response before he had the chance to. Secondly, his art was amazing - yet another thing that Bettinson would have commented on immediately had the student not pulled out his guitar and started playing a few chords. That display of talent was equally as good, and there would have been much praise abound yet again had Mikey not opened his mouth once more. Then came the comment about staring at cute boys.


Mr. Bettinson was not a homophobe by any stretch of the imagination. Even from a political standpoint, in which he was more of a lowkey libertarian, he believed that the verdict on the legalization of same sex marriage was most definitely appropriate. (Being a US History teacher, Bettinson was obviously into politics.) However, it was hard for the teacher to deny that the easy calmness in which Mikey admitted his sexual preference to the entire class was a bit of a surprise to him - most students his age weren't comfortable enough to admit it so readily, and any admissions he was a party to were provided in the shadow of complete secrecy with the expectation of total confidence. This was starting to sound like the dating game, the young teacher thought - first there was the Gray girl talking about love at first sight, now this guy casually throwing around his desire for cute boys.


Calmly, the teacher laughed in a rather 'to each his own' sort of way, referring not only to Mikey's more striking comment, but also to the boy's preference for keeping mostly to himself as well. "That's fair," Bettinson said, nodding as he smiled at the freshman. He didn't want his surprise with the readiness of the comment to belie his more open-minded nature - and he could certainly relate more to conversing about music with a fellow male rather than proving his ignorance about fashion to a lady of the more girly-girl persuasion. "That's some sick guitar playing, though. Do you write your own music?"


As the teacher and student conversed in this rather show-and-tell-like procedure, Lola watched with mild interest which only increased as Mikey displayed his talents even more. He was certainly a great artist, and Lola deeply regretted not showing off her own work to earn the same sort of gasps and looks of awe as Mikey did when he displayed his. Naturally, she assumed he would never be the more popular type due to his general inclination to stay more on the outskirts of social activity, but he seemed like an interesting character that Lola wouldn't mind getting to know - and, because she was starting to become the slightest bit embarrassed about her whole 'love at first sight' spiel, the girl was thankful that she wasn't the only one willing to talk about her love life. (Lola indeed considered his admission rather bold and forward, which she respected greatly, wishing to be of the more confident sort herself.) Being popular, of course, wasn't just about getting to know all the 'right' people - the rich kids, the preps, the blondes, the jocks - but it was about making friends from all sorts of groups, and Lola would start with this particular dark-haired emo boy. Mikey Thomson.


After staring at him for a moment to garner a look in response, Lola smiled at the boy when he met her eyes. Not to sound cliche or anything, but this could be the beginning of a great friendship.

 

[MoxxyMoxx]

Mr Bettinson's comment about writing his own music slightly scared Mikey. He wasn't much of a sharer when it came to his music. His art was a different story as no one could really thing of something as intricate as his own. Sure, most graffiti artists would keep their art to themselves but what's the fun in that? Nearly getting in trouble was fun. He was also surprused when he gave zero shits about his sexual preference. Most teachers ended up being quite homophobic but he could handle them. This teacher seemed kind but this wouldn't stop Mikey Fuckin Thomson.


"Like I'm gonna show you," He said in a sassy tone. "Who knows you could be a badass guitar player in your spare time. I'm not risking anything. My art is a different story. I'm not going in depth on that."


He put down his guitar and continued to draw. He was unsure what he'd do after his next piece. Sometimes he did link his art with his music but four out of five times it ended up being a fluke. he glanced over at Lola. He quickly studied her. She was clearly popular, way out of his league. He could tell that she had an interest in him. What for? He had no idea unless he hadn't shown off his skill. But she did seem sweet which is something most popular kids aren't. He'll just hope she stays that way. Otherwise Mikey would be hurt and hurt bad.

 

[spooktacular]

Lola Gray


The Drama Queen



Out of all of the staff members at WestView High, Mr. Bettinson was proving to be one of the 'cool teachers', as the students would so eloquently deem him for the first few days until he began to assign his traditionally challenging load of schoolwork. Despite the fact that Bettinson was a generally casual, funny, and friendly teacher, he did not believe in making anything overtly easy for his students, as seen in the college-level difficulty of the kids' summer assignment, and he would always profess that one could learn a great deal of information from his class if they truly put in the effort towards doing so. This, of course, tended to inspire a lot of dislike from the general student body, most of which were not too keen on any excess homework, naturally. However, in this particular instance, on the first day of school, as per usual, Mr. Bettinson would retain his momentary popularity among the freshmen by engaging in genuine conversation with them, although a bit uncomfortable at times, in an effort to get to know them as people first before getting to know them as students.





The teacher was having a particularly pleasant time conversing with young Mikey Thomson, who was, despite his undeniably unique way of casually professing whatever was on his mind (sassiness included), proving to be a rather talented guy, which Bettinson could always appreciate, respect, and find some way to expand upon in discourse. Indeed, the teacher was still a young guy, and he felt just as much desire to befriend his students as his students did to not look like total idiots when describing themselves to the relatively unfamiliar freshmen class.





Leaning back in his seat as he always did while laughing, Bettinson clapped his hands together once in amusement. "You got me," he said, the sarcasm obvious in his slightly high-pitched tone. "I'm secretly this total shredder outside of school. I've got my own band and everything. And I'm just gonna steal all of your songs and pass them off as my own, because I hate my students and want you all to suffer. Right?"





Lola laughed a little at this display, which caused the teacher to smile at her for a quick moment before returning his attention to Mikey. The young starlet-to-be had noticed Mikey looking in her direction, checking her out in a way that couldn't have signified any romantic feelings due to his priorly expressed sexuality, but he was most certainly looking in her direction for longer than a glance or two. Perhaps he thought she was cool, Lola figured (although, 'hoped' is likely the better word choice), and she planned to compliment his artwork after Bettinson was done teasing him. Lola didn't have to shed any sort of clique if she didn't want to - in fact, she could be only popular girl in history to be a nerd, slacker, emo, and fangirl at the same time. It was totally doable, right?





Totally.