"Where'd you say you moved from again?" Audrey questions the newest recruit.

"California," the girl smiles.

"Well, Manhattan is better, I would know. My family and I travel somewhere new every summer break," Audrey tries to establish her superiority, as usual. She feeds off of feeling like she's better than everyone else...which is why she always volunteers to show around the new girls who she deems 'almost as pretty as her.'

Fortunately, Alison and I have been friends with Audrey since the third grade. She doesn't think of us as competition anymore.

And, I know this school was already divided before we got here...but I do blame Audrey for the division between what we call the burnouts and what they call us, the centrals.

The burnouts tend to live in the lower east side of Manhattan, they catch the subway to make it to school every morning, and they only go to Addington because of a scholarship program the old headmaster founded.

Three years ago, Addington was in hot water over discrimination allegations, so the school board decided to reserve spots for ten students in each grade level for poor kids in low income families.

The headmaster was hesitant about letting them in, you know, in fear of them giving our "pristine school" a bad look. However, word got out, and it inspired a bunch of burnout parents to send their burnout kids to a school full of overachievers, athletes, and "centrals," trust fund babies who live with their status-obsessed parents in the Upper East side of Manhattan by Central Park.

We don't intermingle. Though, every here and there, rumors spread about hookups between centrals and burnouts. It figures, even if central girls stuck to central boys, central boys would still go after whoever puts out the fastest, burnout or not.

It doesn't matter in the end. No one ever admits to it.

Nonetheless, I've been in a two-year relationship with Jace Kendal since freshman year. He's sweet but also kind of an asshole, the central boy specialty.

We met at the annual society gala that my mom hosts to "keep our community close." In other words, It's just an excuse to get in everyone's business and search for economic opportunities. Jace and I were one of the few sons and daughters who were forced to attend such a dull and lifeless event. Therefore, instead of fake smiling and being introduced to middle-aged narcissists, we ended up talking to each other and making out in my bedroom.

Soon after, he started "casually" standing in front of my hotel before school and conveniently forgetting that I lived there. I thought it was cute that he went through all of that trouble just to walk me to school, yet never had the guts to ask me out, so I asked him, instead.

This is as close as you're going to get to a romantic fairytale in New York, but I'm okay with it if everyone else is.

"Anyway, we should get to class," Audrey sighs, "see you at lunch, Heather?" She asks and pretends as if the new girl isn't there.

"As usual," I laugh lightly.

"Oh, and you...Lisa, right?" She furrows her eyebrows.

"Mhm," the girl smiles.

"I guess you can sit with us too," Audrey rolls her eyes, "we sit at the tables lined up in the middle of the cafeteria, you can't miss us, no one ever does," she smirks and confidently walks off in the direction of her first-period class.

"Uh— it was nice meeting you...I'll see you later, then," I say awkwardly before turning around and heading down the hall to my homeroom.

"Are you actually going to class, dude?" Jordan raises his eyebrows.

"Yeah, man," I shrug, "Ms. Chang has it out for me. She's going to make me repeat the semester if I don't start showing up."

"Sucks for you," he laughs, "catch you later, yeah?" Jordan says before rushing to sneak out of the side door by the staircase.

I don't know how he hasn't been kicked out yet. This school is fucking ridiculous. They call my mom like twice a day if I'm even late for class...you know, the ones I show up to. No one wants us low-income kids here but ever since we got in, they get to call themselves "economically diverse." I was completely fine going to school closer to home.

I tried to convince my mom to let me go back...but I went by last weekend and saw they shut it down. Asbestos was found in the walls, and when they tried to find out how much, they came across a shit ton of cocaine in the ceiling vents over the boys' restroom. It's either stay here or wake up even earlier to go to a school even further.

"Mr. Rylin, are you taking notes?" Ms. Chang asks.

"Do you see a notebook?"

"No, I see an 'F' for your semester grade." She crosses her arms, "and I guess I'll be seeing you again next year," she adds, "and you won't be seeing a high school diploma."

"I'm glad we've come to this mutual understanding," I reply.

"Well since you have so much to say, Leonardo, you won't mind speaking with me after class."

"Anything for you, Ms. Chang," I smirk as the class becomes filled with awkward tension. No preppy would step out of line with a teacher, but we're all people here, am I right? They look back in forth from me to Ms. Chang before diverting their attention back to the board. "What?" I glare as some central chick continues to narrow her eyes at me, she scoffs in response but looks away like she should've done in the first place.

Each class is an hour long...and I'm not a morning person. With that said, it doesn't take long for me to fall asleep, especially when it comes to something as boring and unimportant as physics.

"Hey-" I feel a nudge and lift my head up off of the desk, "the bell rung."

"Thanks," I say tiredly to the kid who usually sits next to me. We're not friends...but he doesn't seem to have any...so I'm the next best thing.

He nods, and I follow after him in order to join the crowd that's leaving the class.

"Not so fast, Leonardo," Ms. Chang stops me. "How do you plan to bring up your grade, I'd hate to have to schedule a conference with your mother...again."

"Isn't there some type of extra credit you can give me?" I ask in disinterest.

"No, but you can take the semester exam, and it'll bring your grade up to a high D...a low C if you're lucky."

"And if I don't?" I raise an eyebrow.

"I think you know the answer to that." She places her hands together, "if I were you, I'd get to studying. Exams are in February."

And it's only September. I've got plenty of time...to find someone to swipe me the answers.

"So, my parents are going down to the country club in Sands Point this weekend, we'll have the house to ourselves. What do you say?" Jace puts his arm over my shoulder.

"Um— I'll have to check with my parents first. I think they've already made plans. You know, family stuff," I shrug.

"You can't get out of it?" He asks in disappointment.

"Probably not, it's kind of their anniversary," I give him a sympathetic smile.

Truthfully, I don't have any plans with my family, and I'm just making up an excuse not to be with him. I honestly don't want to spend two days having sex at the top of every hour and having unsubstantial conversations everywhere in between.

"Okay, maybe some other time then," He sighs, "I'll just have some of the boys over."

"Behave yourself," I say sternly.

Some of the boys includes Trevor Bailey, the definition of egotistic and manipulative. I often question whether or not he's paying Jace to be friends with him, because no one should do it willingly.

I understand that girls fall to his feet because of his status and the fact that he's...dare I say it, appealing to the eye. But why does he have friends?

He's infamous for seeking out girls with boyfriends as if it's a fun game to test their resilience. He flirts with me right in front of Jace, but since they're best friends, I guess Jace trusts that flirting is all he'd do. Although...I'm pretty sure I've heard a rumor that Trevor slept with one of his dad's potential fiancées out of spite. I guess there isn't a very strong bond between father and son. And despite that, Trevor still won't go live with his mother in Nevada. He's claimed New York as his play pin.

"Well, would you look at that," Trevor stares out of the large glass windows that overlook the tables outside.

"What?" Jace asks and tries to find whatever caught Trevor's attention.

"You see that girl with the dirty blonde hair. Wearing the gray flannel? She has so much potential...if she just tried a little harder, she would actually be pretty hot."

"The burnout? I don't think her hair is actually dirty blonde...it's just blonde...and dirty," Jace scrutinizes her, "And why are they allowed to break the dress code?"

"If they don't wear the uniform, no one can tell they go here. It's a win/win for them and the administrators," Trevor smirks.

"That's not why, you asshole," I roll my eyes, "The headmistress is more lenient with them because at least they're coming to school. Plus, they wear at least half of the uniform."

"That's not fair," Jace scowls.

Maybe not, but I give them credit. If the guys wear their collared shirts, they don't wear ties or slacks. If the girls wear their skirts or dresses, it's cut shorter. Other times, they'll disregard the dress code altogether.

"Well, they're not getting into college," Trevor laughs, "this is their biggest accomplishment: Addington High."

I frown and try to tune out the rest of their conversation. I don't hate the burnouts, we don't really have a reason to. I don't even like calling them that but I wouldn't know what else to say. I understand why they don't like us, though. The second they walked through the school doors, everybody looked at them like someone had just let dirty dogs onto freshly cleaned white carpet.

"They're staring back..." I say lowly when I notice one of the guys point and look at us, causing the rest of them to look as well

"Fucking lowlifes," Trevor stands up angrily when they all simultaneously stick their middle fingers up at us. One of them even taking it as far as to mouth "suck my dick," while pointing toward theirs.

"Hey hey hey, where are you going," Jace tries to grab him as he storms toward the door leading outside.

"Where do you think I'm going?" Trevor scoffs, "I'm about to light a match under these burnouts."

Jace looks hesitant but follows after him anyway.

I stand by the door...hoping Trevor can be talked out of getting his ass kicked out there. I watch as he comes face to face with one of the burnouts, his jaw is clenched and I can tell they're exchanging some harsh words. Trevor pushes the poor boy, causing him to stumble back. The rest of his friends immediately stood up and went after Trevor. Jace tried to mediate the situation but just ended up getting punched in the face. I sigh in disappointment when everyone in the cafeteria decides to stand up and cheer at the sight of the brawl, leaving no one to try and break it up, no one but me, of course.

I cautiously navigate my way through the boys who are fighting to the death and attempt to get ahold of Jace. It was a failed attempt and I instantly regretted it when I was pushed back and left on the cold cement.

No one notices I'm down here as I dust off my hands.

"You okay?" A low voice sounds from above me.

I look up to see the most familiar of the burnouts, Leo Rylin. He's in my physics class. "I'm fine," I glare, "thanks for offering to help me up."

"Do you need me to teach you how to stand?" He narrows his eyes at me. I open my mouth to speak but am interrupted by the administrators finally rushing to break everything up. People start running to escape being suspended and the security guards struggle to catch...anyone at all. "If I were you I'd get out of here, butterfly." He smirks, "and scrape your boy off of the floor. He's bleeding..." I turn around and see Jace wiping the blood from his mouth and turn back around to see that Leo is gone.

"I suppose you all know why you were called here," Headmistress Sanderson takes a deep breath, "the events that occurred outside of the lunchroom today were absolutely atrocious. It seems as if you young men have forgotten that you represent Addington High. You are our future." She rants, "I expect everyone who was involved to come forward and accept your punishment." ...We already tried to tell her that the lower east side scum jumped us, but she insisted on calling a meeting to be fair. 'It's your word against theirs,' she says. My eyes practically roll to the back of my head as she continues, "Please keep in mind that if you don't, we will be forced to punish you all, and I will not be merciful. How does detention for the rest of the school year sound? How about no access to outside lunch tables? And being banned from all school events for one semester?...including all school dances!"

Fuck...Heather will kill me. The girls in general will take turns slitting our throats if we get banned.

I stand up, "Headmistress Sanderson, we shouldn't all be punished. Some of us are just victims, look at my face. Look at Trevor's, he can't even see out of his right eye."

"You were both active participants, Mr. Kendal. If I recall correctly, you had to be pulled off of Henry Randolph, who won't name anyone else who helped out in this brawl."

"Not to be disrespectful, headmistress, but my family pays far too much for me to have to be in an environment with cheap slackers who were given a full ride, put me in danger, and have no intention of learning," I clench my jaw.

"This is not the time nor the place to have this discussion. You may see me in my office after the assembly, and if you're so worried about your family, I wouldn't mind calling your parents so they can shed some light on the situation. How's that sound, Mr. Kendal?"

I sigh and take a seat, being tormented by the sound of some guys snickering behind me. I subtly take a look over my shoulder and notice that one of them is burnout sophomore Nick Macy. That kid let a shit ton of ants loose in the boys' locker room and all over the uniforms before a basketball game last year. It was us against their old school, so that shows who his loyalty lies with. Our team looked ridiculous freaking out on the court while his team scored a bunch of easy baskets.

Nick is sitting with a whole spawn of burnouts, one being Leo Rylin. The one lowlife I can honestly say I loathe. He's a weak, remorseless, drug slinging, sad fuck. The thought of him breathing makes my stomach churn. Before I look away, I notice that his knuckles are wrapped up, meaning that he probably made a few faces bleed as well. Yet...he's not stepping up. Looks like headmistress and I have a lot to talk about after all, and if she'd like another charitable donation from the Kendal family...then she'd better consider ridding our school of the pest problem.

"So..." I say after about two minutes of watching her rearrange her desk.

"One moment please," Sanderson says sternly before continuing to basically switch everything that's on the right with what's on the left. "Alright now, what is it that you have to say for yourself?" She places her hands together.

"You asked for names, and I've got one that will definitely lead to all the others."

"Okay then, do tell," she motions for me to continue.

"Leo Rylin," I say victoriously, "he's trying to hide it but his knuckles are busted. Perhaps because they were coming in contact with faces."

"Yours?"

"Well uh—"

"If you didn't see him with your own eyes then I cannot take this information seriously. I cannot simply incriminate a student with no witnesses or proof." Sanderson stands as if she's about to leave the room.

"Can you just call him down here? I'm sure you can find a few holes in his story once you realize it doesn't match up anywhere close to mine."

"And how am I supposed to know you're not the one lying? You expect me to believe that Leonardo is a liar because you believe he's lower than you? I do not condone bullying, Mr. Kendal, and I know how some of you students treat each other," her arms cross, "Listen, young man, I will schedule a meeting with Leonardo first thing tomorrow morning and if I'm given any reason to believe he's innocent. You will be automatically suspended and this will go on your transcript. I'll have you know, the only people in which we are sure were involved in this are Trevor Bailey, Henry Randolph, and you. Trevor initiated the situation and I don't need to remind you of how we found you. Henry has already claimed self-defense."

"I tried to stop this before it started!" I feel my skin heating up in anger.

"I'd love to take your word for it, Jace, but someone needs to be held accountable, and we have no reliable witnesses. Once we get more names and full stories from unbiased sources, your punishment will be evaluated fairly, understand?"

"Yes," I huff.

"Have a good day, Mr. Kendal," she gestures for me to leave.

I don't say anything in response, instead, I roll my eyes and walk out of her office angrier than I was when I stepped in. More witnesses? If I went to the police and told them I was stabbed in an alleyway they wouldn't look at me and say "you need more witnesses" after I've told them who did it. My busted lip is the proof, the bruise on my cheek is the proof, the fact that it took half a box of Kleenex to stop my nose from bleeding is the proof. Yeah, Leo wasn't the one who was trying to beat me to death but I'll bet money that he was there.

I walk over to the payphone on the wall and immediately dial Heather's number.

"Hello," she answers on the first ring.

"I need you to do me a huge favor."

"Anything, what is it?"

"I need you to go to the headmistress tomorrow and give her the names of some burnouts," I say lowly since I'm still a bit close to her office, my driver isn't here yet and it's cold as bricks outside, "get a few friends to do it too."

"Which burnouts?" I hear the concern in her voice.

"Doesn't matter," I shrug.

"That seems a little wrong, Jace. Plus, I don't even know most of their names," Heather sighs.

"Not even one?"

"Well...I know Leo Rylin."