UPLOADED WITH PERMISSION FROM AUTHOR!
A lot of you had a problem with this whole switch, so I might as well make some things clear:
1.) I don't know Tasha Ashes personally. I don't why she hasn't been updating besides life and everything else intruding. I don't when she'll put up an actual notice because her discontinuing forever is still something she's unsure because it's obviously a story that's meant a lot to her.
2.) I beta'd 'Change in Direction' way back in the day when it was a much longer story and not as cropped up as it is now, so trust I know where this is going.
3.) I'll keep all the same characteristics and plot lines as Tasha Ashes so it won't be as if you're reading a completely different story
It's a funny how your entire perspective, your whole personality changes when you reach that inescapable part of your teenage life known as high school.
Well, at least it did for me.
I was one of those girls who grew up in the little part of Jacksonville, Florida that was commonly known as the more "sheltered" community. You know, the higher-class, rich neighborhood where there were never any real hell-raising parties or gangs, and in elementary school motto's like "drugs are bad" and "wait until you're with the one you love for sex" were drilled into our heads until we could recite them backward.
We were spoiled kids that were hidden from the true "horrors"—for lack of a better word— of the world.
Perhaps that would explain why the road leading to my very first year in high school (that awkward phase known as puberty and grade nine) was a disaster in the making; the fact that I had no experience with what was thrown at me—because back in the elementary school days, when I had walked around wearing rose-colored glasses and had never really had a real problem, I'd had the perfect life.
I was at the top of the food chain—pretty and popular, with good grades, money, and an aspiration to become a doctor.
I even had a boyfriend.
The unfortunately named Moji.
Except boyfriend wasn't the correct term to use; because dating in the eighth grade —in the upper class Atlantic Beach neighborhood— consisted only of flirting and holding hands with that rare date without your friends giggling around you and hardly any PDA. But at the time, a boyfriend was the 'in' thing to have. And I of course, had to have everything 'in'.
And Moji was at the time, a rather popular and perhaps, if you squinted hard enough, a pretty cute guy.
Not that I was much a prize either.
I generally go under the category of the "girl who is gushed about by parents" in terms of beauty, where no one really says out loud how pretty you look except for friends parents. In my case, tall, thin, clean skin, and big green eyes summed it up. I was overly average and nothing particularly special, not that it was even bad thing.
But then of course, high school came along . . .
Considering the fact that there were many high schools in Jacksonville, the community—made up of those from my elementary school— was split up. The school I decided to go to was one known for its athletics and academics- basically any old high school except with a rather ambitious reputation. Only a handful decided to attend this school, mostly because it was a tad farther away from our neighborhood, but I was accompanied by best friend of the time Ino Yamanaka, while the rest scattered themselves to the many other more privileged and expensive schools provided in Jacksonville.
So not only did I enter high school not really knowing anyone (except for Ino, who didn't really make that situation a whole lot better), I entered inexperienced of what was infamously known as the "the bad shit list".
Partying, smoking, drugs, drinking, and sex were just some of the lovely doings in this list, and they all surprised me after middle school. Honestly, in ninth grade, they terrified me. And even if I didn't do any of these things, I had to adapt or at least pretend I was okay with everything.
Now, I would consider myself a total loser and wallflower in high school but since the eye of society's virtues seemed very different from I was used to (pretty was dressing in as least clothes as possible, cool was not following any sort of conduct or rules and being popular was having money) but despite all that, I still found my own group of friends who to a certain point thought likewise with me, and even found a new crush, Naruto Uzumaki.
But by the time grade 10 rolled around, I was still single, and unsure how to even ask Naruto out. Naruto was one of the popular guys, meaning he participated in "the bad shit list", but he didn't seem as hardcore as the others. He was loud, funny, and sometimes rather sweet in his own way, which readily provoked me as well as half of the female population to have a crush on him. So I did the only thing I knew how to do when it comes to crushes, and that was to flirt with him. Or attempt to in my own introvert, shy way.
And hey, Naruto was single and he flirted back, so I actually had a chance. But then again, he flirted with every other girl in his eye range . . . .
But even with little pro's that came along with growing up and facing the unshakeable hierarchy of high school, my personal life changed in numerous way and much faster than I could catch or deal with.
Ino Yamanaka, my best friend since the days there still naps in school and having pigtails was the cutest thing in world was on a quest to become popular and everything that pertained to before high school was suddenly uncool.
My older sister went off to the University of Miami and left me to deal the train wreck that was once was my parent's marriage. Two people, who some bazillion years ago, had been all lovey dovey and grossly happy with one another had come to a mutual agreement in their relationship that I suspect consisted of them fighting every opportunity they got and only staying together as long as I was still in high school.
As if I wanted to come from another sucky day of high school to them at each other's throat arguing of the most miniscule and stupidest little things.
But the most difficult was Samuel.
He'd been my cat for seven years (he'd been a present from my tenth birthday) but something had gotten into my crazy little kitty's head and now he's anorexic. He was skinny, frail and eternally grumpy.
My life was more or less, continual downward spiral that seemed to hit that rock bottom.
And of course, what type of story would this be if it didn't go spiraling out of control again? A bad one, I'll tell you that. So to make this story a lot more interesting, life has decided to add another change to the list (not that there aren't enough already)—and I can't say it's a bad one.
No longer will I be an average, unpopular, seventeen-year old in grade eleven, with only a handful of friends, an anorexic cat, and two parents at war.
Because Sasuke Uchiha had moved to Atlantic Beach.
I hate the first day of school.
I find it so awkward coming back and "reuniting" with everybody that I'd had accidental run-ins with all summer.
I mean, people who you barely even know start talking to you about their amazing summer as if you're their best friend. And then they give a "welcome back" hug- which are the worst. This all happens for about three days until everyone goes back to their respective cliques and pretends that everyone else but them don't exist again.
Anyways, I figured out that if you arrive 5 minutes before you have to be in class, then you can avoid all the weird introductions—or reintroductions. You don't get to check the class list as thoroughly, but it is better then hugging every person that walks by you.
So, after quickly checking what my homeroom class was, I raced up to the part in the hall where my friends and I decided to have our lockers this year. Sure enough, there was an empty one in beside Ino's, which is exactly where I placed my lock.
And then off to my homeroom.
I smelled the distinctive odor that came from the art room 11C- paint. That's right—my homeroom is art class. Surprisingly, at a school that's famously for it's top notch academics and athletics—almost every student takes art or drama, mostly because it's a slacker period and you hardly do any work—basically a spare period to do other homework in.
So once I entered the class, I scanned the room for anyone I knew, and relief immediately washed through me as I saw Hinata sitting alone at one of the tables.
To put Hinata in a nutshell, I would say she is quiet, shy, unbelievably kind, tends to stutter, super moral, has a cousin that goes here in the same grade but is popular (and by now, I think you know what being popular means), her mother died when she was little and her father is so strict that I haven't even been to her house yet even though she's one of my best friends.
That's Hinata in a nutshell.
As I walked over to her, at least three more people stopped, hugged me and asked me how my summer was (my reply being for all of them "Oh, mine was good, how about you?"). And even as I sat down and a couple of others joined me at the table, I still had to give hugs. I find these hugs so pointless. You barely know the person and the exchange is hardly genuine. I should make a vow to give up hugs—they are way too annoying. Except I did let Hinata hug me, after all she is one of my actual friends.
As we waited for the anthem to play on the P.A, we chatted about how our summer was and what subjects we picked, etc. I didn't really listen with as much enthusiasm as the others, but put in the occasional "Oh! That's cool!" and "Sweet," where appropriate. The national anthem played, and no one sang, as usual. The teacher hadn't entered at this point but when she did walk in, I had a pretty good idea of what the rest of the year was going to be like.
A mix between weird and, well, I don't even know what it would be mixed with.
She was new to the school, and you could tell that just by the way she dressed. Ms. Lunids had very long, wavy, blonde hair that looked like it hadn't been brushed in about a month. She had tiny spectacles, about 10 beaded necklaces, and wore colourful, baggy clothing that looked like they were bought from a grandma's garage sale, even though she looked like she was in her late twenties.
Well, that's cool I guess—we have a hippy as our art teacher.
"Good morning, children," She greeted in a calm (very calm) but cheery voice. "I am Ms. Lunids, and I welcome you to Art 12."
Hinata and I exchanged looks, wondering why someone like this is teaching art and not hosting some preschool TV show on how to decipher your colors and the chanting the alphabet with a guitar in line.
"Today I thought that we would start off with a project that would symbolize you, and channel your expression into your art. We are going to create our very own personal symbol!" she continued, saying the last part like it was something magical. "But before I get you all excited, we should take attendance."
She then proceeded to call out the names on the attendance list. I zoned out for most of them until my name was called or when someone new to the school was announced and Ms. Lunids gave them a small introduction. So far, none of the new kids seemed interesting. But just when I was deciding that this was going to be another boring school year, Ms. Lunids called on someone that, in time, would become very significant to me: Sasuke Uchiha.
At first, I didn't even look up—I had given up on the any prospect of excitement that a new kid could bring and sought to pull out my iPod instead, while still vaguely listening to the introduction.
"Well, Sasuke," Ms. Lunids started, "how are you liking Florida so far?"
"Fine." Replied an unfamiliar velvety voice—one that I automatically assumed was Sasuke's.
"And did the moving go okay?"
"Have you made any friends yet?"
"Sure." The voice replied for the third time. I could hear a couple of students snickering at his clear unresponsiveness.
"That's lovely," Ms. Lunids genuinely answered with a smile—which was a little odd.
When even more students started snickering I decided to find out who exactly this Sasuke person was, because by hearing just a glimpse of his attitude, I could tell he would be the next big gossip.
When I found the form of Sasuke Uchiha I immediately decided to take back my dislike of hugging strangers. I seriously thought my jaw hit the floor—he was absolutely gorgeous. Black hair that begged for someone's hand to run through it, perfect Greek god-like features, and from where I could see, he was ripped.
And it seemed he already was well-liked, for he was amidst a group of ogling girls and the more popular guys.
I watched as someone from his group asked him a question. In return, Sasuke turned and steadily scanned the classroom. The next thing I knew he had caught my gaze—or rather, caught me blatantly staring at him—with dark unreadable eyes. I didn't realize that my mouth was agape until after his lips turned in a small smirk and he continued with answering the question he was asked.
I immediately flushed a deep red and turned back to the girls I was sitting with. They had the same expression I had—apparently I wasn't the only one who thought he was drool-worthy material. Now, I'm not one who is boy- crazy (you know, the ones that scout for guys, talk about them, flirt like crazy and have new crushes every week, cough—Ino—cough) but that had defiantly changed.
Art is stupid.
My teacher is a loser.
We spent the whole time trying to find our inner selves by drawing to music (hardly anytime to slack off)—but I couldn't stop thinking about Sasuke. It wasn't my fault though—every other girl in the classroom was thinking the exact same thing as me. I could tell from the far off look in their eyes as they pretended to draw. In the end, I had only one small doodle that very suspiciously looked like the outline of a guy. A real hot, new guy to be exact.
I can do this project later.
The class ended when Ms. Lunids handed out our schedules for the rest of the year. The first thing I did when I received mine was compare it Hinata's, and figured out that on day one we had Art and Business together, and on day two we had Math and English together. The rest of my schedule went as followed:
Day 1: Art, English, Lunch, Instrumental, and Biology.
Day 2: English Media, Math, Lunch, Spanish, and Chemistry.
The second period bell rang and I was off to English. I hoped that Ino would be there, so I could tell her about Sasuke Uchiha.
But English class ended up being very boring. Maybe it was because Ino wasn't there—or any of my other friends for that matter. We got sheets and forms for our parents to sign and we played a stupid spelling game. I just read a book at my desk . . . . well, tried to read, because I never absorbed any of the words. My thoughts kept drifting to Sasuke, again.
It was actually very annoying. He was just a regular guy who probably will flirt his way into some girl's pants, but I just can't stop thinking about him. I mean, I just met him like half an hour ago—actually I didn't even meet him—I just made eye contact with him, then he gave me a some type of smirk, w but still it was really hot and I remember not being able to breath and why am I still thinking about him?
I need to get him out of my head. I bet I'm just delusional from lack of food; I mean I did forget breakfast, and breakfast is the most important meal of the day. So food. That's most definitely the reason. I need food.
Food was not the answer. It just kept my brain functioning enough to process thoughts about—guess who? A stupid really good-looking person that I haven't even met.
So, not only was I annoying myself, but I also was embarrassing myself. We were eating lunch by our lockers ("we" being Ino, Hinata, and a couple other friends) and Ino was talking about how her math class was. This is how it went:
Ino: So yeah, I hate my English teacher, he made a seating plan and gave us homework—on the first day!
Hinata: insert shy giggle.
Ino: But the seating plan wasn't bad—the teacher put me really close to this gorgeous guy. I mean, can you say sexy? What was his name? Started with a 's' or something?
Me: Oh My God! Sasuke Uchiha—you saw him!?
Now how fangirl-ish does that sound?
And I am definitely not a fan girl. Especially over some random guy.
But, as it's turning out, it seems like I might become one pretty soon (and I don't want that, at all). I mean, it's only lunchtime of the first day of school, and I'm already obsessed with a complete stranger.
But when I think of his eyes and his hair and the glorious body that he was probably hiding underneath those useless clothes—who wouldn't be?
I wouldn't really be taking instrumental if it wasn't for my stupid self thinking that in grade 9, playing the flute was totally cool. I begged my dad to get me one, and he only agreed to if I took instrumental all four years of high school. I really didn't see at the time how much of a commitment that was, and am now stuck taking the course for the fourth time in a row.
Right now though, I'm a little grateful to my stupid grade 9 self, because Instrumental was a definite relief. I walked into the classroom where, right away, we were given our seating plan. Since I play the flute, I was closer to the right of the classroom. To my left are more flutes, to my right are clarinets, and behind me are the trumpets—and Naruto plays the trumpet. That's why instrumental was a relief.
Speak of the devil.
"Hi Naruto, how was your summer?" I answered quickly, trying to fight down the stupid butterflies beginning to take flight in my stomach.
"Not bad. My friend moved over here in the summer though. Have you seen him yet?"
"Er, what's his name?" I asked, although I think I had a pretty good idea who it was.
"It's Sasuke—total bastard but pretty awesome."
That explained why Sasuke was already so popular; he was friends with Naruto ( and it could also be the fact that Sasuke was, well Sasuke).
"Yeah, he's in my art class," I replied, trying to pretend that it wasn't a big deal that I saw him. But when a huge smile formed across Naruto's face, I couldn't help but smile as well.
"So you met that bastart, huh? Our families went on a cruise together this summer together and he was actually kind of fun to be around!" I now noticed that Naruto was even more tanned than he usually is—I guess he got that from the cruise. As Naruto passed by my seat, he stumbled and his hand landed on my shoulder for balance. A small tingle crawled up my arm to the place he touched and my mind went blank.
"Sorry Sakura!" Naruto apologized as he continued past me.
"Wha—oh! No problem." I giggled nervously. He was in his seat now and I had turned around to face him.
"Anyway," Naruto continued, "I don't know if Sasuke will stay though, at lunch, he was bitching about something or another," (No! Sasuke can't leave! I haven't even met him yet!) "I really hope he stays though—that fucker is like the king of parties!"
I knew I was right when I said he would flirt his way into some girl's pants. Someone that hot obviously goes to parties and has got to be another member of the bad shit list.
It was then that the teacher decided to start the class and I had to unfortunately take my attention away from a certain cute trumpet player. The first class consisted of nothing of interest—just more forms that needed to be signed and activity fees needing to be paid. In the end, Naruto and I had a handful of conversations—which was great, because I didn't think of Sasuke once during that time. So that was why instrumental was a relief—I had a breath of fresh air from Sasuke.
But I was about to suffocate from him in Biology.
When I walked into the science lab, I didn't notice him at first—he was blocked by a wall of people, most of them girls—one in particular I really didn't like: the vomit-inducing Karin.
Karin is the sort of girl who is somewhat popular, but all around fake.
She will do anything and everything she can to be popular—meaning she's dressed in the most skin-bearing clothing possible, she buys all the latest trends, goes to everyone's parties, and knows at least one vital piece of gossip about everyone. It's like she has a talent for tracking down anything 'cool' and making sure that whatever it is, it will contaminated by her. I once had to do a project with her in grade 10 and I basically had to do all the work while she was too busy being a bitch.
And it's not surprising to see her in the group surrounding Sasuke.
It was after I sat down though when I finally noticed him behind the ogling-girl-barrier. He was a lot closer this time, and geez, he is so gorgeous. I contemplated joining the other people surrounding him, but I had enough common sense to know that doing that would make me into another one of those stupid, giggling girls (cough—Karin—cough) and I definitely didn't want to be one of those. I might have been one of those girls in middle school, but that was before I realized how idiotic I must have looked.
I was once again daydreaming about Sasuke when Ino sat down beside me. Well, at least I had a friend to distract me from him. But of course the first thing Ino said was:
"God, isn't that new guy so freakin' gorgeous?!"
"Yeah, I guess . . . " I think Ino continued to talk after my somewhat noncommittal response, but I wasn't really listening.
Instead I was off in my own world. My own Sasuke + Sakura world, to be exact. It was when the teacher entered a while later that I snapped out of my daze. Our biology teacher, Mr. Kakashi, was one of my favorite teachers. He made the work fun, didn't have a seating plan, and he also had a reputation for being late (which means more free time). Which he was right now—it was 10 minutes past the start of the period. There is also a rumor that the book he is always found reading is a porno book.
I'm not sure whether to believe that or not.
As Mr. Kakashi talked about this and that, I tried my hardest to resist the urge to stare at Sasuke, but then again, I never had much willpower. So my head slowly swiveled in the direction of Mr. Freakin' Gorgeous and I stared. I don't know how long I stared for, but Sasuke soon turned his head to have green eyes meet black. I snapped my head so hard in the other direction that I think I gave myself whiplash.
I forced myself to look out the window for the rest of the period.
During that time, I noticed it was raining. Which sucked. Rain is bad. Rain means wearing your hood which makes you look dorky. I bet Sasuke could pull off a hood and look good—and imagining Sasuke wearing a hood made me realize I was staring at him again.
I was really starting to not like this class.
When the bell did ring, I grabbed my books quickly and was determined to leave before I found myself dumbly staring at at him again. But Sasuke was heading out the door in front of me, and I couldn't resist the tantalizing temptation to "accidentally" brush against him while walking by too. So I did. I picked up my pace just a little more until I felt my shoulder abruptly connect with his. You know in instrumental when Naruto put his hand on my shoulder and there was a tingle?
Well this was like a shock.
I ended up dropping all of my books and papers (so, so embarrassing), and getting half trampled by the rest of the students who were leaving the classroom.
Well that was just great.
Ino didn't even help me pick up my books, I bet she went trailing after Sasuke, which I would never have done (well, not publicly).
After trudging to my locker to grab my raincoat, I trudged to my car, a silver Ford Escape. I wanted one of the smaller cars, but since I went to high school, I learned I was lucky to even have a car this nice.
Or have a car, period.
I was waiting in my Ford in the line to exit the parking lot when I saw Sasuke leave in his car. His navy blue Maserati Diablo (which meant he must have a hell of a lot of money to buy a car like that and cover the insurance). I watched him leave the parking lot and even after he was out of sight, I kept staring. I didn't even realize my foot was on the pedal until a loud "HONK!" made its way to my ears. On impulse, I slammed on the breaks (and swore). Good thing too (the breaking, not the swearing), or else I would have nicked the car ahead of me. I drove extra cautiously on the way home just in case any Sasuke—involved obstacles came my way.
I pulled into the driveway of my house next to my sister's car. The house I live in is yellow and white and pretty big. It had 5 bedrooms (two of which are used as my parents' offices), 4 bathrooms, 3 walk- in closets, 2 stories, and 1 hot tub in the backyard. I wanted a pool but my dad says that we have our very own pool 2 blocks away, also known as the ocean (Aw Dad, you are so funny! Not.). Anyway, my room is on the second floor with one of the walk- in closets. I have a bathroom that connects to my sister's room, and a small ladder that leads to the attic (though I'm too scared to even look).
My room own is painted green (the same shade as my eyes) and the furniture is pink (the same shade as my hair)—my mom thought it would look cute at the time, but now I'm just sick of it, because I haven't changed it since grade 6.
By the time dinner came, I stayed quiet as my mind was off somewhere else thinking you-know-who. After dinner, I decided to try reading, and it helped a little, especially since Samuel came and sat on my lap. I figured that reading was the closest I was going to get on not thinking of Sasuke, so I read until 10:30 pm, which was when I was too tired to read anymore. I fell into a restless sleep listening to my parents arguing and my dad moving downstairs to sleep on the couch where Samuel left me to go join him.
But my sleep turned peaceful when I dreamt of a certain black- haired, black- eyed, completely beautiful Maserati Diablo driver.
It's still being "renovated" so to say, so keeping checking back!