Hey, so here's my ATPS (Angus, Thongs, and Perfect Snogging) fic. As you can probably tell from past fics, I really love introducing OC characters. :D Yeah, this fic won't be any exception. Sorry, I just can't help it. XP But there won't be any fantasy stuff in this story. I'll be using ideas from both the book and the movie, and in both the book and movie I hate Ellen. No reason for it, no idea why, I just hate her. She will not be in this story, so if you are an Ellen supporter, don't read.
The Ace Gang is going to be a year older than in the movie, so basically Year 11 turning 16, and Tom, Robbie, and Dave are Year 12 turning 17 (just like the movie). Cool?
I'll be putting this in the book section because it will get more readers that way. Hopefully.
Disclaimer: I do not own 'Angus, Thongs, and Perfect Snogging' in either book or movie form. That right goes to Ms. Louise Renson and whoever owns the rights to the movie. (It ain't me, losers. :D)
As Georgia Nicolson walked through the gates that led her into the grounds of Stalag 14, she let out a sigh. She'd last been talking to Jessalyn about a week ago, and the other girl had told her that she was moving. It was hard enough already to find times to talk to each other. Jessalyn lived in California, and Georgia in England. There was an eight-hour time difference. The two had started communicating as part of a pen-pal assignment their schools had set up, and gone on talking to one another after the assignment had ended. Jas and Rosie had talked to Jessalyn from time to time themselves, and they had all agreed that if she lived there, she would be perfect Ace Gang material.
The melancholy fifteen-year-old brunette walked past Tom, Robbie, Dave, Emma, and Lindsay not seeing the concerned glances the three boys shot after her. Tom was dating Georgia's best friend Jas, so he and she were good friends. Robbie and Georgia had bonded over a love of cats, and though she questioned his intelligence sometimes by his choice in dating Lindsay, they got along. Dave and Georgia had met through Robbie and Tom, and they clicked instantly. Dave made Georgia laugh harder than anyone else, but she didn't get along with his girlfriend, Emma.
Georgia was looking for the Ace Gang, lost in her thoughts and sadness that she hadn't been able to talk to Jessalyn in about a week. So it was with a sense of shock and fright that she heard her name being screamed.
A slender, five foot, nine inches girl sped down the hill, and through the gates of Stalag 14. She dashed through any small spaces she could find, and shoved through a group of three boys, and two girls. She vaguely registered a yell and splash, but her mind was focused on Georgia. She slammed into Georgia with a scream, and her arms squeezing the breath from her. Georgia caught the girl's face.
After five minutes Georgia began to run out of air. She patted Jessalyn on the back. "It's nice to see you, too, Jess, but um, I can't breathe. Not all of us have as much breath and energy as you do."
Jessalyn pulled back with a giggle. "Oops. Sorry, Gee."
"It's fine." Georgia waved a hand. "Wait, what are you doing here? In England?"
"I told you I was moving." Jessalyn grinned.
"You didn't say you were moving to England! And how did you get registered into Stalag 14 so quickly? We're two months into the year. And we have a waiting list!"
Jess shrugged. "My dad has connections. Plus, he promised to donate to the school's library. The principal couldn't refuse."
"Principal…?" Georgia questioned.
"Right, sorry. Headmistress."
A cough from behind the two friends had them turning around, questioningly.
"Oh, Robbie! What happened to you?" Georgia asked, trying to keep from laughing.
A water-spattered Robbie glowered at her. Apparently her efforts to keep from laughing weren't going so well.
"Your friend shoved through us, and Lindsay got pushed into a puddle. She was screeching and when I tried to help her up, she splashed me. Don't laugh!" He snapped when Georgia, Tom, and Dave started laughing.
"Thanks for showing me to my classes, Gee." Jessalyn said.
"It's fine, Jess. I still can't believe they have you taking Year 12 classes. You're not yet sixteen."
"It's because while I am too young to be Year 12, I was in 11th grade in the States which is the equivalent of Year 12 over here. I think, anyway. The whole system has me totally confused." Jessalyn laughed.
"Well, good luck, and the girls and I will see you at break. Meet by the library? I'm sure you'll know where that is already."
"I do, and yeah, I'll see you." And with that said, Georgia was off to her classes and Jessalyn entered the classroom.
And then promptly stopped short. The water-spattered boy from earlier was in her class. Okay, so technically she was in his class. Jessalyn ignored the looks she was getting and headed up to the teacher at the front of the class. She handed him a slip of paper and spoke quietly with him for a few short moments while the students watched curiously. Mr. Norberton shook his head in what looked like amazement, and then pointed out a seat in the corner for her to sit in. Jessalyn smiled and thanked him. She accepted a maths composition book, and once she had sat down, pulled out a pencil and eraser. The pupils waited for their teacher to introduce the new student but were disappointed.
"Now, if we take away the parentheses, and divide the square root by ten…"
As Mr. Norberton started to explain the math problem written on the board, Jessalyn bowed her head and scratched notes in her composition book. The students stared at her, willing her to lift her head up and say something, but eventually turned back to the lesson.
Mr. Norberton smiled to himself as he finished what he was writing on the board. He had just met his new student – a Year 11 girl from Southern California. She was too young to actually be placed in Year 12, but was taking Year 12 classes for the challenge. He had seen her test scores, and they were some of the best he had ever seen. He was thinking that he would ask her to answer the first question of the new lesson he was currently teaching, and introduce her that way.
"Right." Mr. Norberton lapped his hands, and turned around. "Who can tell me the answer to the question on the board?"
He waited a moment. "No one?"
Jessalyn tentatively raised her hand after looking around the room shyly.
"Very well, Miss Moure. The answer?"
"Well, actually, I was just going to say that the equation has been written out incorrectly."
"I beg pardon?" Mr. Norberton asked.
The rest of the class exchanged looks. Who was she to tell the teacher that the equation was laid out incorrectly? Actually, who was she that she knew the equation was wrong?
"The parentheses shouldn't include the fraction cubed."
"I see." A pause. "Do you know what the answer would be if the equation were written out properly?"
"If it were written out properly, the answer should be thirteen over seven, next to two point seven nine three rounded up to the highest point, over eight to the fifth power." (No, NOT real. If it is, I have no clue. So please, don't tell me that that isn't a real equation/answer to an equation. I just want to make Jessalyn sound smart.)
Mr. Norberton held up a finger, and searched the textbook for the answer to the equation. The students held their breath.
"…That is correct." There were sighs as students let out bated breaths of amazement.
"I presume you have done this kind of equation before?"
"Yes, sir. I was actually studying calculus before I came over here."
"How about Trigonometry? Have you studied that yet?"
"Mmhm." Jessalyn nodded. "I've also done Algebras I and II, Geometry, and… I think that's it, actually." She smiled bashfully.
"Thank you, Miss Moure." And as the students sighed with disappointment, Mr. Norberton added, "Would you like to introduce yourself to the students now? They have been very patient. I've certainly never seen them restrain for so long."
"Oh." Jessalyn was startled. It was clear that she hadn't expected the class to be so interested in her. "Well, alright…" She trailed off.
"I'm from Southern California. I have taken a large number of maths classes, and was placed in Year 11 for my age, but because my education is so advanced, I am taking several Year 12 classes. I can't think of anything else. Is that enough?"
"How about your name, sweetheart?" Dave shouted from the back of the room, causing students to laugh and high five him.
Jessalyn flushed a light pink but retorted, "Yur Adick." ('You're a dick.' Get it? I've said it to some boys before who were acting like Dave.)
Before Mr. Norberton could reprimand her, the bell rang, and grabbing her bag, Jessalyn was out the door in one graceful swoop. Back in the classroom, Dave was sounding out her name. "Yur Adick? Yura Dick? You're a dick!" Dave grinned, triumphant on having sounded out what she said. "Wait a minute… OI!"
Tom and Robbie smirked, and slapped him on the back. "You got there eventually, eh Dave?"
"Shaddup", Dave groused as the remaining students in the class laughed at the expense of his pride.
Jessalyn was looking down at her schedule as she wandered the empty corridors trying to find her next class.
"Bloody English schools. Why can't they ever give you a map to find your classes?" She grumbled to herself. "This school is so confusing."
"You know", a boy's voice drawled. "They say talking to yourself is the first sign of madness."
"And if you're already mad? What's the next clue, then?" Jessalyn muttered, not looking up from her schedule.
"Admitting it, of course." He replied, not skipping a beat.
A moment, and then, "You'll never find the classroom you're looking for if you don't look up at the room numbers."
"Well, if I had a map, then I wouldn't being having this oh-so-scintillating conversation with you. Look, can you just point me towards Room 58?" Jessalyn looked up, only to meet the amused gaze of the boy from earlier.
"Oh. It's you."
"I think I'm the one who's supposed to say that. And by the way, you're heading completely the wrong way for Room 58."
"Gah!" Jessalyn stopped, and threw her arms in the air. "God?" She asked sweetly. "Why do you hate me!"
"I can take you to Room 58, if you want?"
"Please? …I'm sorry that I got you wet."
"Technically, you got my girlfriend wet, and she got me wet."
"Chain reaction starting with me." Jessalyn shrugged.
"…Your name isn't really "Yur Adick", is it?"
Jessalyn threw her head back and laughed. "No, definitely not. My mom wasn't that high off the childbirth drugs."
"So what is your name?"
"What's yours", she countered.
"Robbie." Help! Need last name!
"Nice to meet you, Jessalyn."
AN: And… finis! Whatcha think? Reviews are my life sustenance.