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AN: Suspend reality for me. Panic! And Fall Out Boy are in high school together, just because. Ok? Now read! Please :-)


Audrey checked the mirror again.

"No," she sighed, pulling the shirt back over her head and stepping out of the mini-skirt she had picked out last night.

She wanted to make an impact. She wanted stares and comments. She wanted Brendon staring at her distractedly all day.

A horn blaring from the driveway reminded her she didn't have time for this. She hurried to her closet, pulling out her trusty black micro-mini and pulled on a pair of thigh-highs. She checked the mirror again.

"Better," she grinned slicking on just a little extra lip gloss.

Two more blares from the horn.

"Alright, already," she grumbled to herself as she pulled a shirt over her head, grabbed her book bag and headed for the stairs.





"What the hell is keeping her," Brendon drummed his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel.

"Chill, man. We have plenty of time before first period," Spencer said from his lounging position on the back seat.

Brendon glanced at Spencer in his rear view mirror, screwing up his face as he saw Carrie nuzzling at his neck. It was way too early in the morning to witness that. He averted his eyes quickly, groaning inwardly as Carrie's hand travelled south. Spencer's sharp intake of breath told him she had hit jackpot.

"Guys, please..." he muttered. His sentence remained unfinished as Audrey flung herself into the front seat.

"Hello, baby," she whispered, leaning into him and placing a fleeting kiss on his lips.

His eyes travelled her body, taking in the bare thigh she was showing as she re-arranged herself beside him. His eyes lingered there appreciatively.

"Nice outfit," he wiggled his eyebrows at her suggestively and let his hand rest on the bare skin as he pulled out of her driveway.

"Call Pete, Spencer. Make sure he's ready. Tell him we'll be there in five," Brendon threw over his shoulder. No response. "Spencer?" he tried again, daring a glance in his mirrors. Spencer was in a lip-lock with Carrie, his hands burrowed somewhere out of sight, oblivious to the others in the car.



"Peter? Peter you had better be up and ready to go or I swear to God..."

Pete pulled the pillow over his head with a groan, attempting to block out his mother's voice. It could not possibly be time to get up yet. The sunshine blazing through the curtains seemed to disagree with him.

He drifted back into sleep, unable to make his eyelids obey his mother.

He was rudely interrupted from his dream fumbles with the hot cheerleader by his mother yanking his blanket from over him.

"Peter! Get up right now," she yelled in the threatening voice she usually saved for at least three weeks into the semester. "Brendon will be here in ten minutes."

"Huh?" Pete yelled, jumping up from the bed. "Why didn't you wake me earlier?" He frantically started rummaging for clean clothes.

His mother's death glare stopped him in his tracks. "What?" he questioned her with a wide-eyed innocent look on his face.

She simply shook her head and sighed, before leaving the room.

"That boy will be the death of me," she mumbled as she slowly closed the door behind her.

Pete had barely got out of the shower when he heard Brendon's car horn blaring from the drive.

"Perfection takes time," he mumbled to his reflection in the mirror as he styled his hair.



"Take a fucking chill pill, Bren," Pete laughed as he squeezed into the backseat with Spencer and Carrie ten minutes later.

"If one more person tells me to chill out I'm gonna fucking punch them," Brendon muttered in reply.

Pete leaned over the seat, taking in Audrey's outfit. "How you doin'?" he asked her in his best New Yawk accent. "Nice, Audrey. Very nice," he made a huge show of looking her up and down. Winding Brendon up was his favourite pass time.

"Eyes off Wentz," Brendon slapped the back of his head, giving him a warning stare.

Pete raised his hands in a mock apology. "A boy can look can't he. I need something to get off on in double math," he threw Brendon a wide grin, and winked conspiratorially at Audrey.

"Or alternatively I could just perv on the humping couple in the backseat," Pete screwed his face up as he turned his attention to Spencer and Carrie.

Spencer didn't even break the kiss as he gave Pete the finger.

"Good morning to you, too," Pete smirked.



As they pulled into the parking lot of Springfield High, the place was buzzing. First day back after summer, everyone got there early. There were tans to compare, outfits to laugh at, gossip to be shared and new kids to gawp at.

Brendon slid out of the driver's seat, locking his car door behind him. Audrey slid up beside him, casually draping an arm around his waist.

"Hey, girly, you forgot your skirt this morning," a loud, familiar voice called from somewhere across the parking lot.

Brendon turned towards it, breaking into a grin. "Hey, wise ass, that's my woman you're talking about." He greeted the owner of the voice.

"Hey, Joey," Audrey shrieked excitedly hugging him "Where the hell you been this summer?"

He returned her hug. "Uh, working, mainly. Got a job fixing cars. Made enough money to buy the sweetest guitar," he kissed his fingers in appreciation. He turned his attentions to Pete. "You need to come see my new guitar, man. It is ah-mazing."

They walked ahead, deep in conversation.

"Audrey!" a high-pitched squeal made Brendon wince.

"Kennedy!" Audrey's scream was even more high pitched. Brendon's eyes glazed over as Audrey and the new arrival went into screeching mode.

"Oh, my God, you look amazing."

"OH, my God, that is such a cute outfit."

"Uh, great tan, where you been?"

"You will never believe this cute guy I met this summer at the beach."

Brendon was not a fan of Kennedy. Vacant was not the word to describe her. Blonde hair, big tits and teeth. That was pretty much all there was to her. And Audrey around Kennedy became pretty much the same. With him she was sweet and intelligent and funny. With Kennedy, she became a vacuous space.

Brendon's eyes wandered the car park. The usual screams and hugs and "How are you's" were being thrown around by the girls who didn't care enough about each other to spend anytime together over the summer. Closely followed by the rolled eyes and "What the fuck is she wearing's" as soon as back's were turned. He allowed a cynical smile to ghost over his lips.

His thoughts were interrupted by a screeching sound coming from an old beat up car pulling into the parking lot. A hundred pairs of eyes turned distastefully towards it. It looked almost as out of place as Brendon's old run around among the shiny new Beetles and SUV's and the odd Hummer.

Brendon pushed up his heavy framed black glasses and watched curiously as the occupant of the car screeched to a halt and hopped from the car. He was as different as his transport. Tight jeans hugged his skinny frame. His messy hair fell into his face, partially obscuring his eyes which were lined with black pencil. He seemed oblivious to the horrified stares he was receiving from every corner. Brendon couldn't help smiling in appreciation as he watched this new kid saunter through the parking lots, ignoring everything and everyone around him.



Ryan took a deep breath and tried to control the flaming redness in his cheeks as his shit-heap of a car rattled to a stop in the parking lot. He stole a quick glance around. The other cars wouldn't be out of place in Bel Air.

"Great," he sighed " another fucking rich kid shit-hole."

This was his seventh school in as many years. His old man was in the army and they had moved religiously every year. Until now.

"Trust him to retire to some middle class fucking suburbia," he slammed his hands against the steering wheel in anger and frustration, before composing his face and stepping from the car.

He had learned the hard way that the best way to act was completely aloof. He had tried fitting in a few years ago, but he just wasn't a follower. He had decided two schools ago that if they didn't like him the way he was then fuck them. He didn't need anybody's approval.

"Welcome to another shitty year," he muttered as he started his way across the lot, aware of the stares and laughs from the kids around him. He willed his face not to turn bright red. "Don't let it get to you, Ry," he repeated over and over in his head.

"Is that kid wearing make-up?" he heard one girl stage-whisper to a group of people standing round her.

"Fucking fag," came the reply from the guy standing beside her.

He pretended he didn't hear, and just kept walking.

He didn't know what made him look up. But he allowed himself a side-ward glance as he walked. His eyes settled on a pair of brown eyes, staring curiously at him from behind black framed glasses. A tiny smile escaped him before he could stop it. A grin met him in reply. He kept walking.

"Careful, Ry. Don't let it slip," he scolded himself.

But he couldn't resist a glance over his shoulder. Brown-eyed boy was still staring. Ryan felt a slight shiver go through him as he quickly turned back around and kept walking.