1  1. They Meet

It was a balmy summer in which it all started. Genevieve High catered to all sorts of students from dirt poor to the upper echelons of high-class society. She didn't want to flaunt her position in life as the daughter of a French dignitary but it was hopeless to hide as everyone did their research with what bit of information they were allowed to obtain. What they didn't know is that only certain facts had been feed to the masses so they would delve deeply into everything about her father and not poke their noses around too much about her.

She was excited for the first day of summer school and she enjoyed the unique coolness of the building that only seemed to exist when contrasted to the hot heat of the day outside. Everyone gave her looks just as cool and uninterested. Thankfully none of them had "the expression" on their face. Seeing "the expression" on faces before her used to give her a sense of power but in the end that would turn to dread which would then lead to panic attacks. That's when she knew she had to do anything she could to never be faced unprotected by "the expression" again.

Currently she was enjoying sitting in the back of the classroom and the quiet. She couldn't remember a time where she was in the vicinity of so many kids her age and there being so much calm. Then a robust masculine yet serene voice interrupted her solitude. He spoke with a verbose that wasn't common in a boy his age. In fact, if she could guess, he was a few years older than her. The advanced summer class had eggheads of all ages who preferred being holed up in a stuffy classroom all summer while other kids did whatever kids did all summer – what? Jump in leech infested rivers during vacations that were always more stressful than just staying at home.

Hers wasn't a popular opinion of summer and there were only four other students in the class. He finished his discussion up front with the teacher and begin walking towards the back of the class when he saw her. His progression froze as he stared at her for a moment, blinked, shook his head so slightly it was almost imperceptible, before remembering what he was doing and continuing his journey to a desk in the back two seats away from her.

She watched him from the corner of her eye. He was a vision most unlike the geeks that inhabited the class and she couldn't believe such a hot guy had chosen not to spend his summer on the beach surrounded by adoring bikini clad females. His blue eyes were in sharp contrast to his dark sun kissed skin, his muscular arms strained his shirt and she could see his shapely legs as they stuck out of his corduroy shorts and the lean muscles of his feet as they protruded out of his brown ADIDAS sandals all under perfectly coiffed shiny light blonde hair.

He reminded her of the generic American boys she watched on TV back home in France; the few times her parents allowed her the indulgence of watching TV. He could fit right into the soap dramas she watched so adamantly. Her love of those shows made her feel as if she already knew so much about this boy or she could imagine that she did.

She couldn't stop staring at him but every time he looked up she quickly averted her eyes back down to her book. She nervously pulled her hair to the side of her face as a shield but kept stealing glances out of it at him. She thought she was doing a good job of looking at him without him noticing but she was wrong. He always knew when a girl was checking him out but it was rare that he noticed a girl enough to look back.

He found her incredibly cute. He loved her high waisted pink pleated tennis skirt she wore under a plain white blouse accentuated with a silver necklace with an adornment he couldn't quite see from his current vantage point. Her long black wavy hair went all the down her back in gorgeous tendrils. Her light mocha skin almost shone and what little he could see of her brown eyes were deep and glinted with honey in the sunlight of the classroom. He noted that she did seem quite young even though she dressed mature for her age. His interest was definitely piqued.

Mr. Gatsby, the advanced socioeconomics teacher, was covering pretty interesting material about the correlation of healthcare and social standing in the 1920's that he pretended to be engrossed in, not wanting to miss any juicy tidbit about how doctors would treat the lower class during that era. He even raised his hand and asked a question all while she kept sneaking little peeks at him. He let her think he was ignoring her or maybe not even noticing her at all allowing her the confidence to turn her head all the way towards him as she openly stared; a smile on her lips as she chewed her pencil while she fantasized about him being the star the personal soap opera drama that was taking place in her head.

He raised his hand and picked an especially lengthy complicated passage to read out loud as reference for his question. He tried not to laugh as he saw her lean towards him entranced by his voice before he shut his book and slammed it on the desk. "POP!" it went startling everyone in the room as he screamed, "WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT?!" turning towards her suddenly and laughing as shock waves rolled through her causing her to toss her pencil and shoot her feet straight out in front of her. The only thing missing was her hair shooting straight out from her scalp like in cartoons.

He laughed hard but Mr. Gatsby had a stoic expression of displeasure on his face. He was not entertained. It took her a few moments to recover before she burst out laughing as well. Now they were both laughing and pointing at each other while laughing even harder. Mr. Gatsby's didn't appreciate any of it and threw them both out of class. They left together; peals of laughter rang through the empty halls.

That was the beginning of their relationship. Laughter. If only they could have known it would end in tears and blood.