Riverside High

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Claria- I sighed as I parked my car in the school parking lot. Another year. One more to go, I kept reminding myself. I would be out of this hell hole soon, and I could get away from this town for good. Maybe go explore Europe and never come back. I grabbed my bag, and headed into the school. Just enough time to sit on the "Senior" bench. Sure, I'm not a senior, but I am sure no one will say anything to me about it.

Jake- I arrived to the school early, hoping to remain unnoticed. I went towards the Gym and sat in the doorway to the pool. It's typically quiet over here, maybe this year will be the same. I sighed and shook my head. Sure enough, people passed without even looking in my direction.
((Heyoooo~! XP I noticed this RP has a sign up sheet, but I'm not sure if I should put my character's personalities there like yours, or if it's just a place for plot discussion...? Anyhow, here's my responses to your starters. If you still need me to post a little somethin' in the Sign Up thread, that's a-okay with me ^.^ And btw, sorry for the excessive length of these posts, but my first ones are usually pretty long, and they eventually level out ^.^))

Tammy Cleary
17 year old Tammy Cleary really liked to flirt. And by 'like', she actually meant 'totally obsessed with'. Out of all of her friends, she was called the group slut. Out of all of her close friends, she was known as opportunistic. And, to everyone else - usually blind and bigoted with egos the size of blimps - saw her as the lipstick lesbian, the tiny girl who grew up liking chicks and wearing ribbons in her hair. It was unusual, they decided, but for Tammy, her life was absolutely ordinary... besides the fact that her need for romance was on overdrive, and her love life was like shooting lawn darts at any female in the establishment.

She arrived on the first day of school with a black leather backpack around her shoulders and golden brown curls dipped in pink. She changed the color every time it faded, and for an early Wednesday in September, rose would suit her just fine. Passing a girl she wished she could stop and grab a bite with, she twirled a pastel strand around her finger, and checked the clock on the wall - twenty two minutes until her first class. Considering how tired she was after getting up early to do her makeup, Tammy thought there was no harm in finally resting on the holy Senior Bench, something her best friend Lola had fawned over since the day they met in Art Club, that fateful Tuesday afternoon. Wow.

Chuckling softly, Tammy rolled those big brown eyes before she reached the sacred seat. As much as she loved her good pal (shockingly, in a completely platonic way), Lola could be ridiculous. (And dramatic. And self-absorbed. And materialistic.) Despite her sudden thoughts of flaws, although, Tammy did think the bench was pretty quality as plopped down on the hardwood. Perhaps it was the feeling of accomplishment that she made it to her Senior year, even with those mediocre grades. Or maybe it was the pretty girl sitting next to her. Either way.

Tammy didn't recognize the teen, nor did she note that she indeed was not a Senior, but she smiled and batted her pink mascara lashes anyway. This was typical procedure for young Tammy Cleary, and usually, it was the most fool-proof way to tell if a girl was gay, straight, or somewhere in between.

Readjusting her hair again, she cleared her throat. "Excuse me," she said softly. "You wouldn't happen to know the time, would you?"
Abner Albright
Abner Albright considered himself to be a grade-A nerd. Literally. He was a fiend for straight A's. Additionally, he was even more of a fiend for occasionally being a condescending know-it-all. On this wonderful first day of school, he would prove those traits by attempting to be the first person in class, only to sit in the back and smart-mouth heckle at the kids pouring in late... under his breath. So no one could hear. Besides the fact that he was genuinely stoked for his first bout of Creative Writing, there was really nothing Abner loved more than complaining about ignoramuses in his head.

Ironically, the new quick-thinking Senior was too misdirected to find his morning class. This, of course, caused him to fumble for his schedule taped into his binder as he passed the entrance of the pool, but he was too focused on the clumsy mechanism of his backpack zipper to pay any mind to the lone boy sitting in the doorway, which, on normal occasion, Abner would stop and greet. The thing about Abner's wicked personality was, it didn't attract many friends. And even if he was a verified loner himself, he liked to make nice with the kids he saw himself in.

At the moment, however, the binder would have to do. But, like everything else in the teenager's mixed up life, the binder too fell apart, and all of its brand new loose leaf contents were soon scattered across the hall.

"Dammit," he whispered, chasing after the farthest scrap of paper. And of course, the air conditioner just had to be on full blast.
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India arrived at school, well aware it was her last year. Senior year, graduation. She couldn't wait. She was the intelligent of the set of twins, perhaps she used it overly. It was quiet, and she separated from her brother as soon as possible. They looked alike, but not many had put that, and their surname, together and figured out they were related. India would like to keep it that way.

As she made her way into the school, there was a boy who's papers had very clearly been attacked by the AC. Unfortunately, not many people- if any- seemed willing to help. As a piece of paper flew past her, she picked it up. She recognised him from a class last year, but couldn't give the face a name. She thought he needed a new binder.

He made his way towards first class, deciding that he shouldn't ditch it in case that class ended up being slightly interesting. Charlie had the same potential as his twin sister, yet it was misused. He did not find that the school taught him anything he wanted to know, but it did depend on the teacher. He didn't know how he hadn't been expelled by now. They probably thought he'd pull the rabbit out of the hat this year. Charlie wasn't changing for nobody.

Looking around the area he ended up in, he noticed Tammy Cleary. Of course he did. The lipstick lesbian, as his friends called her, was pretty well known. Speaking of his jock friends, where were they? Probably already ditching. Maybe he'd find them by the gym.
Abner Albright
With an armful of papers and a frown on his face, the Senior sighed deeply when he realized his prized periwinkle binder, with the extra large width and homemade cover, was soon to be replaced by another. It was silly, he knew, being morose over a clunky school utensil, but Abner had the same big blue binder since early freshman year, and it followed him through every one of his advanced English classes, from senial Mrs. Donovan to laid back Mr. DeBlanc, to even the evil and vindictive Mrs. Caraton of his tumultuous Junior year. Just the cover alone in fact, was a memory, a picture of all his favorite words, sketched in typography when he thought he'd get into graphic design. With its earthquake crack rip on the back and chipped middle ring on the inside, Abner's now pathetic looking binder had character, and that was a quality he was desperate to find in today's clean-slate, modernized world.

It didn't take a genius, although the teen did consider himself of the kind, to realize that it of course wasn't just the loss of his precious binder that was ailing him. It was the loss of his naive excitement, the days when he used to be puppy-dog charming and have a pretty girlfriend who wouldn't ditch him to be popular. There was still the cursive word 'vivacious', written in the lower right corner. She wrote that. Said it was her favorite of them all.

Too bad he couldn't be enough.

What is wrong with you? he asked himself, pale blue eyes locked tight to the floor as he scanned the hall for stray pieces. Sure, Abner had a lot crumpled in his fists already, but certainly not enough to fill a whole big, fat binder. He scurried, hunched over and wondering why he was so despondent, when he stopped at a girl's feet. Great, he thought miserably. Someone here to laugh at me. Binder boy, ha-ha.

Stifling a groan, he stood up straight, stretching a little from the exertation. Abner was no athlete by any means, and his slightly chubby build made even some of the simplest physical activities completely exhausting. He did remember the girl's face, however, and smiled a lop-sided grin when he saw the paper in her hand. She was in his mathematics class last year, and quite good at it, too.
"You dropped this," she handed it to him. He seemed to have quite a few in his hand, and she could see pieces of paper scattered around the area. Walking over to the nearest one, she picked it up in silence, trying to buy time to remember this guys name. Aaron? No, that wasn't right. Perhaps it would come to her later. India handed that slip to him too, her electric blue eyes showing adding to the smile she shot him as he gave her a grin. She remembered he was a straight A-student, in maths he seemingly knew the answer to every question.
Skyler Heart

"Are we there yet?" Skyler whined.
"No, Sky. We're not." Riley, her brother, replied sarcastically. "We're going to be there in about five minutes or something."
The car's surroundings were passing by her so fast that they were only faint blurs in the background.
Skyler's beanie rested gently on her tiffany blue hair. Actually it was pointless to wear because it was quite sunny outside. After a little while the trees passing by outside the car were replaced by houses, and the speed slowly came to an abrupt stop.

She looked over at her brother in horror, but when you see his face bright red and that he would burst out laughing any time now - you decided to throw a tantrum:
"What the actual hell?" Then the laughing broke. Skyler and Riley weren't exactly the normal pair of siblings. they lost there parents a long time ago, he was overprotective, and since they spent a lot of time together they were practically best friends now.

"Sorry, but we're at least here now." He gestured to the school.
"You call this near?" Skyler groaned seeing the school was actually miles away.
"You can walk." Riley rolled his eyes at her. "Stop being so dramatic. But fine!" He started the car again and drove so he was parked right outside the school.
"That's better." Skyler laughed and hopped out. "Bye." She waved and walked into school.


Matthew Green.

Matt sat in the backseat of his mom's minivan with his little sister Caroline in his lap sleeping soundly. The radio in the car was on but his mother's music wasn't really Matt's taste so he had his headphones on listening to PTV as he watched the trees fly by. The music comforted him and came in as a handy excuse for when he ignored his mother, but it wasn't a shield, as much as he wished it was.

Just six months ago his father had been killed in a mugging and died before he even made it to the hospital. Matthew understood there wasn't anything he could have done to save him but he still blamed himself. His dad was dead and nothing was the same anymore. Everything he once knew, all of the fun he used to have, was gone and replaced with a gret cloud that promised nothing but more struggles and pain.

They pulled up to Riverside High, and he jumped out grabbing his bag and saying a brief goodbye. He looked up at the towering building, took a deep breath, and walked inside.

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His friends were not at the sporty area. Honestly, Charlie despised sport, but he craved attention so much he was willing to do anything to receive it. So he trained, he reached the team, he made friends, he tried drugs, anything to be noticed. And it had worked, only, the wrong kind of attention.

He went around the corridor, deciding he was going to leave first lesson and pretend it was his free period. The teachers probably wouldn't say anything. If anything, he'd just say he was ill. His sister would, for some reason, back him up. She always did. He doubted it was sibling love. Most likely, the teacher's pet didn't want to be tied to a troublemaker.

In these thoughts, he walked into some guy. "Hey, watch where you're going."
Abner Albright

Abner Albright, taking the loose paper in his predominantly left hand, still had a small smile on his chubby face when he remembered suddenly that the girl had an unusual name. It was an odd interest, especially for a boy of his age, but Abner dedicated much of his time to onomastics, or the study of name meanings and origins. Generally, he tended to be much better at identifying relative strangers, but his abnormally flustered state made him for once unable.

"Thanks," he said disconcertedly, reclipping the wrinkled loose leaf back in his old binder. He usually wasn't greeted by the friendly sort nowadays, so he figured it would be best to pin down her name again for future reference - and seeing as how he remembered the girl to be of intelligence, chances weren't slim that they'd have a class together. It was odd, but the excitement of such rare social interaction almost made him want to mutter 'stupid air conditioner' just to alleviate the nervous tension, but one of Abner's biggest dislikes was addressing the fact that he blundered in the first place. No go.

Straightening, he cleared his throat, and his pale eyes met her electric ones before doing yet another double take. "You were in my math class last year," the boy stated, a dance of a smirk on thin lips. He was sure she recognized him, too, judging by the way her brain seemed to be doing cartwheels after she handed him the paper, but he hoped this was subtle enough way of relearning her name without admitting he forgot.
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She shrugged, "I don't want litter in the corridor." Which really meant 'no problem'. India wondered how long it was to the beginning of class. She couldn't be late and dawdle. Her other years had perfect attendance, and she couldn't ruin the streak. Though it would be rude to leave at this exact moment, she was pretty eager to get going. However, the clock in the corridor said there was a good few minutes, and polite conversation never hurt anybody.

"Correct," she agreed, still trying to remember his name. Albus? It sounded a little closer than Aaron. India didn't forget many things. Well, important things. Perhaps she didn't think names were important, or perhaps it was too early in the morning to think straight. Either way, she knew that she couldn't place her finger, and by the looks of things, neither could he.
Matthew looked up at the boy. "I-I..um. I'm sorry." He said and stared down at his shoes. Waiting for the moment to be over. He stood there for a good five minutes before he dared to look up. He glared at the boy in front of him. Probably so it didn't seem he was weak. But he was, he was also incredibly shy which was actually really bad. Matthew closed his eyes because he couldn't take any more of this frozen moment. He bites his lip hearing no other sound in the corridor. I guess he was expecting a punch and when he didn't receive one he opened one eye, confused he tilted his head to the side.

Skyler roamed the hallways lost in her own thoughts. She noticed a girl that caught her eye. Since she was new she didn't dare talk to her, but she looked interesting. Her hair was dipped pink and it looked amazing. I looked down at my own hair which was currently in blue messy plaits at each side of her head. She realised she was staring at the girl and mentally kicked herself for it. But prayed that she didn't notice. She tried to focus on something else but her eyes always ended up wandering back to the girl...with pink hair.
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Is he trying to intimidate me? He's as intimidating as a fly, Charlie thought to himself in amusement. Minutes tended to drag for a while, yet Charlie made no move. The boy had apologised, and that was it. He wasn't going to admit it was his fault, but clearly, he didn't need to. In fact, from what social skills he had picked up in life, he noticed that he was scaring the other, despite only saying five words to him ever... literally. The other's eyes closed, and after a few moments, one opened. What was he expecting? Charlie wasn't one to give without reason, or at least, adult attention. In fact, at the head tilt, he couldn't help but let out a small laugh. He wasn't trying to intimidate me. Hmm.
Matt tried not to be offended, but how could someone not be offended when he embarrassed himself and then someone was laughing at him. Laughing at him! He pushed past the boy and ran around the corner as casually as he could. He leant against the wall and covered his face with his hands.
"Idiot!" He muttered, hitting himself in the head. Matthew repeated the phrase over and over in his mind because sadly it was extremely true. He felt the boy was judging him the entire time. Idiot. Of course he was. Idiot. Idiot. Idiot.

He sighed and put his headphones on again, selecting a song from his MCR playlist. Matthew tried to forget what happened at just focused on his music. He probably won't even be in any of his classes. Matt tried to laugh it off.
Charlie didn't like the fact he was pushed. But the last thing he wanted was a fight in first day. Well, the last thing he wanted was detention on first day. Though he wasn't letting the getting pushed thing go. Slowly, he'd plot revenge. And strike when least expected. For now, personal space was very obviously required. Luckily, not many people had been paying attention, and the ones that did said nothing, walking on, getting to class. Nerds. Perhaps he should apologise. What was that saying? Kindness is the worst revenge? He should try it out. Ha. Not. Charlie's brain was logical. And kindness wasn't revenge to him. Kindness was a way of achieving revenge. So, after a minute or so, he followed the boy, noticing he was listening to music, watched until he was noticed.
((Hey, guys, sorry if my formatting looks a little weird or there's a bunch of code instead of a legible reply. I don't understand what's going on with Iwaku, and every time I try to edit my posts, they get all messed up again~! (As in, all my colors, quotes, and formatting are just replaced by the code to GET said formatting). If something like this happens with one of my posts and you can't read it, please let me know and I will try and repost... because editing doesn't fix it for me~! :/ ))

Abner Albright

Undoubtedly, Abner thought there was something extremely odd about this particular girl. Most students he spoke to - besides the literature nerds, of course - were more informal in their speech, saying words like 'hall' instead of 'corridor' or 'right' instead of 'correct'. And even if Abner was a connoisseur of unusual and vivid words himself, it still struck him as strange that a young girl like Indira resorted to them (or was it Ivy?). Abnormal, Abner thought, but unique - and a part of him remembered her archaic way of speaking in math class last year, when she liked to restate the question before answering and give the solutions in more proper terms. She was intelligent, he knew, rational in her thinking - and hopefully like-minded as well, seeing as how Abner had a difficult enough time already finding people who were just as smart as he was.

There was still a subconscious part of him, of course, slowly forming into a conscious part of him, that could sense she was a bit uncomfortable with the situation. Perhaps it was the fact that class was drawing near and she didn't want to be late, or maybe it was simply the awkward circumstances. On any normal occasion, Abner would have taken the paper, grumbled a gruff 'thanks' and trudged on to class - but this, for some reason, was unsettling him, and he wasn't sure if it was because he hardly spoke to girls who weren't shoe oriented, or simply because he was caught in the act of being a blundering louse.

Probably both.

Once more, Abner could detect the thick layer of awkward tension as they stood, stoically staring each other in the face - and he still couldn't remember her name. Someone has to be the man here, he thought reluctantly. It was obvious neither of them were going to ask the question first, and it was presumptuous to introduce himself when there was a chance she could already know his name.

"What's your name?" he said. It was strange, but his words came out inexplicably awestruck - and that was when he realized that this was just too easy. "No," he backtracked, lifting up his hand with a smirk threatening his lips. "Don't tell me. I'll guess." The smirk finally appeared. "Indira." (The name meant 'beauty' in Sanskrit.)
(Sorry if the writing isn't at it's best quality, I'm on my phone rather than my laptop.)

Matt eventually came back to reality and once he had opened his eyes and straight away locked onto the boy from earlier who seemed to be staring at him in not the nicest way, he stood up abruptly and sped off to his class hopefully not clashing with the boy who he seemed to have caused some harsh waves with. He wasn't happy about meeting someone who could hurt him. Who would be? Exactly. Matthew had been bullied in previous schools but he didn't want to put up the hassle to change schools again. His family wouldn't be able to cope. Well he wouldn't be able to cope.
She was about to reply with her name, but he guessed it. Unfortunately, she realised he had said 'Indira', the name of one of India's female presidents. "Close... my name is India. Like the country." It was ridiculously close. It made her feel less guilty for not knowing his name. She said nought about that. Perhaps someone would call him it as they walk by or something. Now, that was silly. She never got a 'good morning, India' thrown her way, and by what she remembered in class, he was a genius. And unfortunately, in high school, geniuses were not applauded by the other kids. If they were, she was sure everyone would make an effort to be the best.

Well. That went well. Charlie just watched as the boy rushed past as if he had the plague. Stood with nothing to do, nothing he wanted to do anyway, he just stood around, watching people as they passed, for someone familiar. Next step, he was going to work out which locker this guy owned. And then... ugh, who knew. Whatever will be will be.
Abner Albright
Abner smiled as the memory rushed back to him. India, right. The closeness of his guess was almost mind-boggling, and the Senior berated himself again for yet another misstep. From realizing his precious binder was past its expiration date to an aspiring onomastician forgetting a familiar name, the first day of school just wasn't working out for poor Abner Albright - and despite the good side of meeting a potentially new friend, he still wasn't willing to see that the rest of his day would be any better. The Life and Times of a Melancholy Senior, thought the teen, and he wondered why he was smiling in the first place.

Much to his surprise, another voice interrupted Abner's mental slug-fest. Just go with it, said his subconscious, and the boy sighed inaubily as the smile returned. Next order of business: figure out if India was in any of his classes, and perhaps subtly reintroduce himself along with it. Sure, Abner wasn't much for putting himself out there when it came to friendships anymore, considering his history, but it wouldn't hurt to have a solid acquaintance amongst all the strangers in his life, especially one he could have an intellectual conversation with. Besides, it wasn't as if Creative Writing was about to start in t minus one minute.

Abner took a moment to smooth the right side of his light brown hair before clearing his throat. Both were nervous habits, and Abner still couldn't deny the awkward tension lingering in the hall. Even worse, it was that time in the morning when the abundance of students were arriving at their lockers, and things were about to get a whole lot louder.

Let's do this.

"India," he said. "That's a good name. It's unique and interesting, but also memorable and easy to pronounce." His cheeks reddened as a chuckle escaped his lips, and he winced as he couldn't stop his mouth from embarrassing him even more. One of the things Abner hated most about himself: once he started talking, a rare occurrence in itself, he could never stop. "Well, memorable for most people. Anyway, what class do you have first? I'm heading to Creative Writing, which seems to be" - he paused and took a wide glance around the halls - "the most obfuscatory room in the entire building."
She watched him smile for a few moments. Probably glad he'd got so close. Indira was the name of one of India's prime ministers - the first female one, she noted. It nerves her that she could not remember his name, maybe time would tell, or a perfect opportunity. A schoolbook, perhaps... even a timetable.

Speaking of timetables, he continued to talk, mostly about her name (what a strange obsession, names) and then he said the word 'anyway', and despite the fact she had been listening to his opinion of the name she was given (which, if she was honest, was quite a nice idea. Unique yet memorable, that caused her to say, "You still forgot it.") Anyway, the word 'anyway' caused her to gain if just a smudge more attention. And it gave a perfectly sly and discreetly intelligent way of learning his name. "Hmm, I think that's my class too. Though I think I left my timetable in my locker. Do you know what room it's in?" She knew her timetable was not in her locker, but rather, at her home, and didn't know whether or not he, like herself, memorised his timetable to know the exact room. If he did, her plan would fail. She only needed really the little slither of text at the top which said his name, yet she could have asked, if not for her stubbornness.
Abner Albright
17 year old Abner Albright was undeniably intelligent. Calculus? Mind boggling at times, but easy enough. Philosophical poetry? The teen prided himself for his unusual way with words - but, having enough common sense to complete tasks early? Not a chance. Despite his self-proclaimed near genius status, Abner was a serial procrastinator, and as soon as India even came close to mentioning the word 'timetable', he was thoroughly enraged with himself for neglecting to study room numbers the night before. Now, he'd have to not only risk spilling his entire binder again (only this time, surrounded by an influx of noisy kids to point at him) but he'd also have to capitulate to his schedule instead of boasting about his class-memorizing prowess - in front of likely the smartest girl in the entire grade. What a way to concede. Abner hated his ego.

Of course, ignoring his prior reinforced intelligence, India's name-learning technique swooped completely over the Senior's head. He assumed that she likely already knew it, besides the fact of her brilliance, especially since she still didn't mention any possible lapse in memory even when he admitted his own. In his years of limited social interaction, it was Abner's best bet that once one person admitted their blunder in an awkward situation, the other would too. However, it did strike Abner as interesting that she not only left her timetable in her locker, but neglected to memorize her classes as well - and he wasn't sure if that proved she was more human than her formal disposition, or perhaps she was just as absentminded as he was.

Either way, Abner would have to admit he was 0 and 3 no matter why she forgot her schedule. Today was just that inelegant. Tense, he cleared his throat. "Yeah, I remember," he lied, flipping open his ancient binder yet again. "But I have my schedule right here if you need it." Although the gesture was clumsy at best, Abner turned the binder in India's direction, showing her the black and white timetable taped inside. It was then that he realized he actually had a class with her.
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