Disclaimer: I'm just a fan in the world. That's all that you'll let me be.

AN: Happy 4th of July, everyone!! Anyway, what better day to start an All-American Girl fic than today, hm? So, I was pushed to write this after still getting terrific reviews for that story I wrote two years ago. You guys are truly wonderful. I wish this was like Facebook, so I can tag you all or thank you for your awesomeness. But, alas, I can only hope that you will find this story.

So, this is basically AAG in David's POV. Yeah yeah, it's probably been done before. But I've always wanted to this and hopefully, it's as different as it can be from the others, considering how most of the dialogue will be the same (haha). Also, almost all of the chapters will just be interactions between Sam and David because, frankly, that's all anyone cares about, am I right?

So, this chapter is sort of a preamble (reference to the constitution!), just some David back story, so no Sam just yet. I hope he sounds boyish enough...

Being the president's son is not all that it's cracked up to be. I guess people have this idea that I'm supposed to feel really privileged and really lucky and so on and so forth. I'm don't. I think the word "sucks" accurately sums up my life.

After my father so selflessly ran for and won the presidency, not giving a flying fuck about what me or my mom thought about it, and made us move to the nation's capital, I basically became devoid of any social life. Not to say that there is nothing to do in D.C. or that there are no interesting people in D.C.; it is quite the opposite, particularly the interesting people part. It's really because of my school.

Upon attending Horizon, I've been subjected to academic competitiveness of the highest level and weird looks because my dream school is not MIT or one of the Ivies. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a complete loner. I've made pseudo-friends with a couple of decent people but I mean...these kids listen to classical music and solve integrals for fun. I listen to ska and punk rock and spend my MV calc period drawing unflattering caricatures of my classmates. You do the math (no pun intended).

And it's not like all private schools are like that. The one back in Houston was really great. Not only was it one of the highest ranked private schools in our nation, the people there actually had a life outside school and I had made some pretty good relationships, considering I'd gone there for most of my life. Also, my school abolished the uniform policy in the 60's. Enough said.

But living halfway across the country makes it kind of difficult to communicate with my friends on a regular basis. I mean, we talk every once in a while and six months after the inauguration, I even had a couple of people visit for a few days – for some reason, they were really excited about staying at my place – and it was exactly like old times. To make things more awesome, Reel Big Fish was conveniently playing at the 9:30 club the day before they left and we all got in for free because of my First Kid status. So, I guess it has some perks.

But I'd definitely trade these insignificant perks to get things back the way they used to be. Now, it's just an existence of suits and pleated pants and trailing after my dad, listening eagerly and pretending to agree with everything he says.

Almost a year after moving, I'm still the same morose loser that I was before. But I'm not complaining.

One good thing my parents did – well actually my mom. Remember, not a flying fuck – is sign me up for art lessons by Susan Boone. I didn't really know much about her before taking her class but I soon found out that she's nothing short of brilliant. She knows everything there is to know about art and she's into everything from Pollock to Warhol and her stuff is just amazing. Also, I've really gotten to know her in the past couple of months and she's a great person to talk to; she's really my only true friend here. I'm not ashamed to admit it: if she was 40 years younger, I would totally try to get in her pants. But none of that Harold and Maude shit for me. Besides, she has a boyfriend.

But as much as I like Susan's class, I'm the youngest and I sort of wish there was another person my age. In fact, I initially thought this would be a great opportunity to befriend other kids who are art buffs like me. But, alas, my generation suffers from I-think-I-know-everything syndrome, so most kids would think art class would take away precious time from making crap depictions of the plight of the American youth or something lame like that. And Susan's classes cost a ton of money, so I doubt anyone other than depressed, middle-aged people, who want to do something with their life and hence decide to take up art class, even though they don't have an ounce of creativity in them, can and are willing to afford her.

So, I basically gave up the hope of ever meeting a kindred spirit and decided to just focus on my art and getting out of here as fast as possible. That is, until I met Sam.

DUN DUN DUN! Yeah, I know, cliched ending, I really suck at those (endings, I mean). But please REVIEW and tell me what you think!! It would mean the world to me and I'd love you forever and ever. And ever.