Tuesday, July 9, 2013
THE HOTNESS: A Modern Teen Pride and Prejudice (chapter three: New Girls)
Into this mix of the young, the new and the entitled, came the new girls. The Bennets had just moved to LA from somewhere in the Midwest. Paige, the girl who seemed to draw Darcy’s attention immediately in the lunch room, dressed plainly in jeans and an old college sweater. She dragged her dark curls back in a messy ponytail and wore glasses and unfashionable clothes. But I’ve seen all the classic teen films, especially Some Kind of Wonderful and she was clearly hiding the pretty beneath the surface.
Her older sister Shiloh was both beautiful and pristine. She wore semi-fashionable clothes and was regularly stopped on LA streets by scouts wanting to sign her up for modeling classes (her father didn’t approve and Shiloh hated to rock the boat).
At first sight, Mackenzie was jealous of the older Bennet girls, until she saw the younger ones. Senta (the middle sister) was as quiet and unassuming as a mouse and Sia and Rebel (the younger ones) were outrageous and notorious down to the ripped black stockings and denim jean shorts they insisted on changing into after they’d left the house in the mornings.
Meanwhile, it had become clear that the newbie boys were stuck in the wrong place.
“It’s either this or home schooling and I’m not having that on! Just an excuse for teenage boys to bludge away an entire semester. No way!” Darcy’s father was way overwhelming as I’m sure you’ve gathered by his strange Australian yelling.
Even though Darcy and Ryan were supposed to have been enrolled at an exclusive New York boarding school for the semester in a moment of sublime (some thought divine) intervention, the enrolment forms had gone astray. They were both posted by Darcy’s father’s short sighted personal assistant, Macey, and Macey had posted them to the wrong place.
Usually, strings would be pulled. Unfortunately, in this case, no string could be pulled until the following semester.
Macey kept her job because she was ‘like family’ and according to Mr Darcy, Sunrise High would ‘toughen them up’. Darcy and Ryan’s parents promptly relocated to New York for the school semester, promising to commute every weekend. Both Darcy and Ryan were mostly left in the hands of their respective lawyer-guardians and housekeepers. It was a good thing their houses were adjacent to each other in Beverly Hills and part of a gated community that looked down on parts of Sunrise central. They hung out like brothers, every day.
They couldn’t believe some lame, artistically orientated establishment was the only place they could go at the eleventh hour. It was precisely because Sunrise High had an arts program that there were extra places for boys. Not many boys put the arts program down as their first preference.
And so both boys were enrolled at Sunrise and Darcy, in particular, had the wrong attitude. His Dad’s housekeeper, Macey, was his formal guardian whilst his parents resided in Los Angeles. Macey had known Darcy since he was a baby and could do no wrong in her eyes.
Nevertheless, Darcy thought it would be easy. He thought he could just *”bludge” away the entire semester doing nothing. (*Bludge is an Australian-English word for ‘doing nothing.’)
Ryan went along with most of his friend’s suggestions. It was easier that way.
Neither Darcy nor Ryan had ever attended a State (or Public) school.
“It’s so low class,” Darcy complained.
And Darcy was over it even before he and Ryan rocked up in his Dad’s Ferrari, parked it with an arrogant screech of the wheels and walked towards the school gates. Ryan, on the other hand, was excited.
“I think it looks like fun,” Ryan noted as he pulled up his sunglasses.
During his first weekend in LA, Ryan had noticed an extremely pretty girl named Shiloh, standing in line at the local Sunrise cinema. He’d been too shy to talk to her but he overheard her conversation with her younger sister about the school they attended. It was called Sunrise. Ryan was hoping Shiloh would be in one of his classes since she looked about the same age as him and he was sure he saw a girl just like her walking through the front gate.
On that first day of school, even after the bell rang, peeps stared.
On the second day, peeps swooned - even though Darcy had decided to lie low and not draw attention to himself. Only six freshman dared to ask him for his autograph.
“I don’t usually do this,” he shrugged reluctantly as he scrawled his name and the girls ran off screaming.
Ryan shook his head and laughed. Darcy’s ego was more inflated than ever. It never occurred to Darcy that his pushy manager had hired the girls to act like his professional fans for a week.
If I was to be completely honest I’d have to say Darcy, being older by three months, taller and richer, was cuter than Ryan (who was cute enough already to have been stopped on the street in The Grove and given the card of a casting scout who asked him if he’d ever been interested in acting). When he told his best friend Darcy about this, Darcy scoffed and laughed so hard that Ryan was resigned to placing the card at the bottom of his desk drawer.
On the third day, teachers told the new boys they’d have to open up their folders and do some work. The boys just shrugged. Ryan smiled while he did this as he liked to get along with everybody. Darcy, on the other hand, got up and left the classroom without a hall pass. He had a phone call to make.
‘Later,’ was all he said as Mrs Tartt tried to stop him.
Paige Bennet, an honor’s student from a humble background, noted in her journal at lunch that day; Darcy Donovan is the most obnoxious boy I’ve ever met.
He’d collided with her in the hallway and had pushed her out of the way without even apologizing.
“I’m so over rude, arrogant jocks who think they are it,” she told her sister and confidant, Shiloh.
“His friend’s cute though,” Shiloh whispered with a smile.
“Where do they even come from?” Paige asked. “They are so conceited.”
When Paige heard Darcy speak he had a deep, rich, almost-English sounding accent as he said something about a girl named Blair. Typical, Paige thought, guys like him had a woman in every port. Her arty aunt Tia, who lived in New York City, would have agreed.