Forums Coolval Family (drama) All I've Never Wanted… A Novella (Completed)

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    ShaxeeShaxee
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    Title: All I’ve Never
    Wanted
    Date: December-17th-2014.
    All rights reserved.
    ©2014
    *The Scions were the
    four most powerful
    guys at Valesca
    Academy. They
    terrorized anyone who
    stood in their way and,
    unlike every other girl in
    school, all I wanted to
    do was avoid them
    until I could graduate from this hellhole. And then, out of seemingly
    nowhere, one becomes
    my fake boyfriend, one
    my unwanted
    matchmaker, one my
    guardian angel, and the
    one I can’t stand the
    most? Yeah, he’s my
    new housemate. Am I
    happy? Hell no.
    INSPIRED BY HANA YORI DANGO/ BOYS OVER FLOWERS/ METEOR GARDEN*

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    #120864 Reply
    ShaxeeShaxee
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    CHAPTER ONE

    “Sweetie, are you
    feeling ok?”
    I poked at the pile of
    scrambled eggs on my
    plate, wondering if I
    could possibly fake
    being sick to delay my
    first day of senior year
    a little longer.
    Maybe I could claim
    food
    poisoning from the
    takeout I ordered
    yesterday?
    …No. My mom would
    never buy it, and even
    if
    she did, I really didn’t
    want my favorite
    Chinese restaurant to
    be slapped with a
    lawsuit. What about
    the
    flu? Mono? Strep
    throat? Sudden
    amnesia? My mind
    raced
    through a million fake
    excuses as to why I
    can’t go to school
    today, but that darned
    maternal instinct would
    undoubtedly see
    through all of them in a
    minute, and I’d just
    earn myself a nice
    grounding instead.
    “…Maya? Maya!”
    I started, my fork
    clattering against the
    plate. “What did you
    say?” I asked
    distractedly, trying to
    get my bearings after
    being lost in my
    thoughts for the past
    ten minutes.
    “Are you feeling ok?”
    my mom repeated.
    “You’ve barely touched
    your food.”
    I looked down and
    realized she was right.
    The scrambled eggs
    and bacon—usually my
    favorite breakfast—
    was far from gone.
    I took a deep breath,
    about to lie and say
    that no, I didn’t really
    feel ok and that I’m
    not
    up for classes today,
    but my darned
    conscience had to kick
    in
    at that moment. “I’m
    fine,” I said, pasting a
    smile on my face. “I’m
    just not really hungry.”
    My mom arched her
    eyebrows and took a
    sip of her coffee. She’s
    like Lorelai from Gilmore
    Girls—a total coffee
    addict. She had at least
    eight cups a day,
    despite my insistence
    so much caffeine is not
    good for her health. You
    would think she’d know
    that, since she works
    in
    the health industry and
    all. “Nervous?”
    I shrugged. “Yeah, I
    guess.” That’s one way
    to put it, but ‘nervous’
    isn’t an adequate
    description for the
    Texas-sized pit of
    anxiety in my stomach.
    “You’ll be fine,
    sweetie,”
    Mom said soothingly.
    “You were fine last
    year. Straight A’s! And
    you’re not even new
    anymore.”
    That’s precisely the
    problem. I’m not new,
    which means after a
    year at Valesca
    Academy, I know how
    it works. Trust me, it’s
    not pretty. But more on
    that later.

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    #120899 Reply
    Hardeywummy2Hardeywummy2
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    Nice start

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    #120971 Reply
    ShaxeeShaxee
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    *continues*
    “You’re right,” I agreed.
    I
    valiantly spooned some
    eggs into my mouth,
    my mom watching
    closely. They tasted
    like
    cardboard, which I
    knew was more me
    than her cooking.
    Nevertheless, I
    managed to eat about
    half before I couldn’t
    take it anymore.
    I figured if I had to go
    anyway, I might as
    well
    just hurry up and finish
    this day up.
    “Ok, I’m heading out,” I
    said, slinging my bag
    over my shoulder. “I’ll
    see you later.”
    “Have a good day,
    honey. Love you.”
    “Love you too.”
    When I got outside, I
    was relieved to see
    that even though the
    sky was overcast, it
    wasn’t raining—yet.
    Hopefully it won’t until
    I’m safe and warm
    inside Valesca’s walls

    safe being a relative
    term.
    I guess now is a good
    time to back up and
    explain everything to
    you. My name is Maya
    Lindberg, and up until a
    year ago, I was happily
    living in New York City
    with my parents, doing
    all the things a normal
    teenager does and
    attending a normal high
    school that, while it
    had
    its clique problems,
    was
    paradise compared to
    Valesca.
    Unfortunately, my dad
    got a promotion at his
    company which
    required
    him to move to
    Valesca, and as a
    result, my whole family
    had to uproot itself and
    settle into one of the
    richest towns in the
    US.
    Now, that wouldn’t be
    so bad, if it wasn’t for
    Valesca Academy.
    Though considered the
    best school in the
    country, it’s filled with
    the snobbiest, most
    superficial, most
    materialistic people I’ve
    ever met in my entire
    life. What makes it all
    the more worse is the
    way they all cower
    before the Scions, who
    are a whole other story
    unto themselves.
    The Scions is the
    nickname given to the
    four hottest guys in
    school: Zack Perry,
    Carlo
    Tevasco, Parker
    Remington, and their
    leader, Roman Fiori.
    Their families, some of
    the wealthiest in the
    world, actually founded
    the town and the
    school, which means
    everyone, from school
    administrators to the
    police, is terrified of
    them. They usually
    keep to themselves,
    unless they are
    terrorizing some poor
    kid who looked at them
    the wrong way.
    I’m not even kidding
    about that. One wrong
    look at any of the
    Scions and you might
    as
    well kiss your social,
    and sometimes
    academic, life goodbye.
    The abuse wrought by
    the rest of the
    students on the
    offender is so
    notoriously horrible
    most are forced to
    transfer schools.
    As for me? Well, I’ve
    never had a direct run-
    in
    with the Scions. It took
    me all of one class
    period when I started
    here last year to realize
    how things worked,
    and
    I had gone out of my
    way to avoid their
    attention.
    Astonishingly, it
    worked. I’ve never
    been
    closer than fifty feet
    to
    them, which is
    definitely a good thing.
    I
    mean, it might seem
    cowardly to some, but
    I
    know the Scions had
    the school faculty
    eating out of the palms
    of their hands, and I
    didn’t want to risk
    doing
    something that might
    provoke their wrath, or
    there goes my
    teacher’s
    recommendations and
    my dream of attending
    Stanford, my future,
    goodbye.
    Avoiding them is
    actually a lot easier
    than it sounds,
    considering they had
    their own classroom,
    where they came and
    went as they pleased;
    their own private nook
    in the dining area, and a
    mass of students
    surrounding them
    whenever they went.
    I took a deep breath as
    Valesca’s perfectly
    manicured campus
    came into view. I could
    do this. Just one more
    year, and I would be on
    my way to college, and
    my experience here
    would have just been a
    bad dream.
    I was annoyed but
    unsurprised to see the
    crowd gathered on the
    flight of stairs that led
    to the entrance.
    Everyone was laughing
    and hugging after an
    oh-so-taxing summer
    apart at their parents’
    villas in the south of
    France (note the
    sarcasm) but they
    were all casting
    surreptitious glances at
    the four empty, prime
    parking spots in the
    parking lot.
    Directly in front of the
    school and slightly
    separated from the
    rest of the spaces,
    those were reserved
    for the Scions. On
    normal days, they
    usually carpooled two
    and two, but on the
    first day, they always
    liked to make a grand
    entrance, each in his
    own overly priced
    sportsmobile. During
    the
    other school days, of
    course, two of those
    spots would remain
    empty, since no one
    would ever dare park in
    one of them.

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    #120972 Reply
    ShaxeeShaxee
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    *continues*
    Already in a bad mood,
    I
    elbowed my way
    through the crowd,
    ignoring my peers’
    curious glances. Before
    I
    could get inside,
    however, I heard
    someone scream my
    name.
    “Maya! Mayaaaaaaa!
    MAYA LINDBERG!”
    The last utterance
    was
    yelled directly into my
    ear, and I flinched a bit,
    waiting for the ringing
    in
    my ears to stop before
    I turned to face the
    petite, pretty redhead.
    “Hi, Venice,” I said with
    a genuine smile.
    “Hiiii!” She enveloped
    me
    in a crushing hug that
    had me staggering
    back
    a few steps. For
    someone so small and
    thin, she sure weighed
    a lot. “I missed you so
    much!”
    “I missed you too,” I
    laughed, listening
    patiently as Venice
    rambled on about her
    amazing summer eco-
    tour of Costa Rica.
    Venice France (yes,
    that
    really is her name. Her
    parents, apparently
    blessed with a sick
    sense of humor, also
    named her younger
    sister Kyoto and her
    older brother Frankfurt;
    understandably, he
    goes by Frankie) is one
    of the few genuinely
    nice, down-to-earth
    people in this school. In
    fact, she might be the
    only one.
    We became close last
    year when we both
    had
    the unfortunate luck of
    being stuck in fifth-
    period AP Calculus with
    Mr. White, who is as
    albino-complexioned as
    his name suggests and
    who is way too pen-
    happy with his
    detention pad. Venice is
    also the only person
    who is privy to my
    seething hatred of the
    Scions and everything
    they stand for: elitism,
    superficiality, tyranny.
    Suddenly, the entire
    school, it seemed,
    erupted into deafening
    cheers and hoots. Oh
    poo. I was about to slip
    inside the school when
    Venice grabbed my
    arm.
    “Where are you going?”
    she hissed.
    “The bathroom,” I
    blurted. “I really gotta
    go.”
    “No you don’t. You just
    don’t want to see
    them,” she observed
    shrewdly.
    “Well, if you know,
    why’d you ask?”
    “Because I’m not going
    to let you slink away
    from them any more!”
    “I don’t slink away,” I
    protested. “I
    strategically miss
    them.”
    She ignored me and
    tugged on my arm,
    forcing me to walk
    down the steps with
    her until we were
    blocked by the crush of
    students. “I don’t care
    what you call it, it’s not
    healthy.”
    I eyed her suspiciously.
    “I bet you only want
    someone to gush to
    about how amazingly
    perfect they are.”
    She shrugged, not even
    bothering to deny it.
    “They are,” she
    insisted
    somewhat defensively.
    “Physically speaking,
    anyway.”
    “There’s more to life
    than looks,” I
    countered, wincing
    when I realized how
    annoyingly preachy I
    sounded. Gotta work
    on
    that.
    “Not if you’re in high
    school. Now, shhh.”
    I shut up, not because
    she said so, but
    because the crowd had
    fallen silent, and I didn’t
    want to speak and
    bring attention to
    myself.
    Venice and I were
    standing on the very
    top of the stairs, and I
    heard them before I
    saw them—the sound
    of screeching tires as
    four very expensive,
    very flashy cars turned
    sharply at the same
    time into their
    respective parking
    spaces.
    I swear, if this was a
    movie, there’d be some
    dramatic soundtrack
    playing right now.
    Everyone except me
    waited with bated
    breath for the Scions
    to
    emerge, and when
    they
    finally did, the ensuing
    swoons and screams
    were a million times
    louder than before.

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    ShaxeeShaxee
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    *continues*
    As if the scene couldn’t
    get anymore sickening,
    the clouds decided to
    part at that moment,
    and a golden beam of
    sunlight highlighted the
    quartet like they’re
    really the gods
    everyone thinks they
    are.
    Parker Remington was
    the first to get out.
    Slamming the door of
    his red Lamborghini
    shut, I felt like the
    renowned playboy
    should be moving in
    slow motion as he
    raked a hand through
    his wavy, golden brown
    hair. The son of the
    most powerful figure in
    the international
    finance
    and banking world
    leaned against the
    edge
    of his car, his eyes
    shielded by a pair of
    aviators, and flashed a
    disarming smile into
    the
    crowd, causing more
    than a few girls to
    nearly faint.
    Gag me.
    The next to come out
    was Carlo Tevasco.
    The
    towering, dark
    Colombian, though
    equally gorgeous, was
    nowhere near as
    overtly charming as his
    friend. In fact, he
    looked
    a little annoyed at all
    the ballyhoo that
    greeted him. I shouldn’t
    be surprised; a black
    belt in five different
    types of martial arts
    and the son of a
    multibillionaire real
    estate developer with
    rumored ties to the
    mafia, Carlo seems to
    be the quietest and
    least attention-seeking
    Scion, at least when
    he’s not beating
    someone up. Even his
    car, a simple but sturdy
    black Range Rover,
    reflected his
    personality.
    Following Carlo was
    Zack Perry. The
    grinning
    Greek-god-look-a-like
    hopped enthusiastically
    from his bright yellow
    Porsche, his golden hair
    gleaming under the sun
    like a halo. In my
    opinion, the eternally
    good-natured Zack
    seemed to be the only
    one who’s even
    remotely human in the
    group. A musician and
    singer, he constantly
    has a smile to his face,
    though I guess if I
    stood to inherit billions
    thanks to my family’s
    dominance in the steel
    and railroad industry,
    I’d
    be happy too.
    Suddenly, a low
    murmur
    rippled through the
    crowd, and when I
    looked to see what had
    everyone in such a
    tizzy, I was shocked to
    see a girl had emerged
    from the passenger
    seat of Zack’s car.
    She’s
    stunningly beautiful
    and
    supermodel tall, with a
    cascading mane of
    perfect blonde waves
    that framed a delicate,
    heart-shaped face with
    bright blue-green eyes,
    high cheekbones, and
    rosy pink lips. Her
    slender, perfect body
    was encased in a
    beautiful pale green silk
    sundress that probably
    cost more than an
    average person’s
    monthly rent.
    Actually, now that I
    looked more closely,
    she
    bore a striking
    resemblance to Zack.
    “No way. No. Freaking.
    Way.” Venice’s jaw
    was
    almost grazing the
    ground.
    “Who is that?” I asked
    curiously. I had never
    seen the Scions with
    the same girl for more
    than a few days, and
    never, never had they
    made an entrance with
    one before.
    “If I’m correct, that’s
    no
    other than Adriana
    Perry, Zack’s twin
    sister.”
    I blinked. “He has a
    twin
    sister?”
    “Yeah.” Venice didn’t
    tear her eyes from the
    spectacle. “They’re
    really close but she’s
    been at some Swiss
    boarding school since
    eighth grade.”
    “How do you know all
    of
    this stuff?”
    Venice just looked at
    me. “Um, I live for
    gossip, remember?”
    Oh yeah. I forgot about
    that.
    Everyone had quieted
    down again, I realized,
    because the main
    attraction was finally
    showing his face.
    Roman Fiori. The sole
    heir to the world’s
    largest fortune, which
    encompassed shipping,
    oil, electronics,
    telecommunications,
    textiles, and sports
    franchises; an athletic
    prodigy hailed as the
    second coming of
    Michael Jordan, Pele,
    and
    Joe Montana rolled into
    one; the single hottest
    specimen to ever walk
    the face of this earth.
    According to all the girls
    who are currently
    peeing themselves in
    excitement, anyway. I
    mean, I guess I can
    kind
    of see it. The entire
    package—the thick,
    wavy black hair, the
    naturally golden bronze
    skin, the sleek
    muscular
    body, the cut-glass
    cheekbones, and those
    one-of-a-kind, gold-
    flecked dark violet eyes
    —was made to melt
    girls’ hearts.

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    ShaxeeShaxee
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    *continues*
    Ok, so I can totally see
    it, but luckily, it takes
    more than just
    supernaturally good
    looks to win me over.
    As far as I’m
    concerned, Roman Fiori
    is the biggest jerk alive
    and as arrogant as
    they
    come.
    The small group made
    their way leisurely
    towards the school,
    Roman at front,
    flanked
    by Carlo and Parker,
    with Zack and Adriana
    bringing up the rear.
    The crowd on the
    stairs
    parted like the Red Sea
    for Moses.
    Roman’s face was
    expressionless as he
    made his way up the
    stairs and inside the
    hallway.
    Everyone waited until
    all
    the Scions and Adriana
    were safely out of
    earshot before they
    started buzzing about
    the latter’s sudden
    appearance.
    “Do you think
    something happened at
    boarding school?”
    “Ohmygod, I can’t
    believe she’s going here
    now!”
    “Man, she’s hot!”
    It was at that
    moment
    that the bell finally,
    blissfully rang.
    I let out a relieved sigh.
    “Come on, let’s get to
    class or we’ll be late,” I
    said, pulling Venice like
    she’d pulled me earlier.
    “Yeah, I make you
    watch the hottest
    guys
    ever and you make me
    go write essays,” she
    grumbled. “Some friend
    you are.”
    I smirked. “You’ll thank
    me one day.”
    *************
    Rrrring! The bell
    signaling the end of
    third period and the
    start of lunch hadn’t
    even finished ringing
    before the hallways
    were filled with hungry
    high schoolers
    clamoring
    for their daily intake of
    gourmet sushi and
    pastries flown in from
    France.
    Yes, that is really what
    they serve in our Dining
    Center, or DC, as
    everyone calls it.
    Fitting,
    considering the politics
    in our DC outrivals that
    of our nation’s capitol
    tenfold.
    I sidestepped an overly
    PDA-ing couple and
    pushed my way into
    the girls’ bathroom,
    which is all done up
    with
    Italian marble, sterling-
    silver faucets, and
    jewel-toned velvet
    furniture in the lounge
    area, though why a
    public bathroom—or
    any bathroom, for that
    matter—needs a
    lounge area is beyond
    me. There’s even a
    bathroom attendant
    presiding over an array
    of European toiletries.
    There were already
    three girls in the
    bathroom when I came
    in, all stick-thin, whose
    green-and-gold plaid
    uniform skirts were
    shortened to the
    skankiest proportions
    possible.
    They’re the type of
    girls
    who usually take the
    time to shoot me a
    disdainful look before
    going right back to their
    primpfests,
    sometimes
    throwing in a snide
    comment about me
    being a Westsider or
    something. As the
    name implies, a
    Westsider is someone
    who lives on the west
    side of town, which is
    dominated by split-level
    houses that are large
    by normal standards
    but minuscule
    compared
    to the massive
    mansions in the rest of
    town. Smaller
    houses=less money,
    and since there is
    virtually nothing more
    important than money
    in Valesca, you can see
    where my Westsider
    status is a problem. I
    don’t really give a poo
    what other people
    think
    of me, but I hate it
    when my family gets
    looked down on just
    because we don’t earn
    millions a year.
    That’s why I was
    more
    than a little befuddled
    when the girls took one
    look at me and scurried
    out the door, heads
    down. If they had tails,
    they’d be tucked
    between their legs
    right
    now.
    It didn’t take me long
    to
    realize what was going
    on, though.

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    ShaxeeShaxee
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    *continues*
    When I turned, I found
    myself face-to-face
    with Adriana Perry,
    who’s even more
    flawless-looking up
    close, if you can believe
    it.
    There was dead silence
    for a good ten seconds
    as we stared at each
    other. Her face was
    unreadable, for the
    most part. I thought I
    detected a hint of
    amusement, but it
    was
    gone so fast I wasn’t
    sure if I’d just imagined
    it.
    “Hi,” I said awkwardly,
    when I couldn’t take
    the awkwardness
    anymore.
    No answer.
    I had just about figured
    she was ignoring me
    and was going to leave
    when she spoke up.
    “Hi,” she answered in a
    soft, lilting voice.
    Though her eyes didn’t
    stray from my face, I
    had the feeling she
    was
    examining me in the
    way only girls can give
    other girls the once-
    over.
    “Ok, well, it’s nice to
    meet you but I’d
    actually better get
    going…” I slowly began
    to edge around her,
    painfully aware the
    bathroom attendant is
    shooting us odd looks.
    “What’s your name?”
    I blinked. That, I didn’t
    see coming. “Um,
    Maya.”
    Silence again.
    “Maya Lindberg,” I
    added.
    Apparently, that was
    what she’d been
    waiting for, because
    she then held out her
    hand and said, “Adriana
    Perry.”
    I shook her hand
    hesitantly. “It’s nice to
    meet you.”
    “Likewise.” Giving me a
    brief smile, she
    proceeded to turn to
    the mirror and fix her
    already-perfect hair
    without saying another
    word.
    Ooook.
    Not wanting to stay in
    that bathroom a
    second
    longer, I made my way
    as quickly through the
    door as I could without
    downright running. The
    encounter hadn’t been
    unpleasant, but it
    hadn’t been, well,
    pleasant either. It was
    just…weird.
    What’s even worse, I
    can’t quite shake the
    feeling that two-
    minute
    interaction had just
    cost me a year’s worth
    of anonymity.
    *************
    “So do you guys wanna
    go eat in the DC or eat
    out somewhere?” Zack
    asked, leaning back in
    his chair and lacing his
    fingers together behind
    his head.
    “I vote for eating out.
    I’ve been craving
    Serrano’s,” Parker said,
    referencing Il Serrano,
    the chic Italian eatery
    that’s practically a
    Valesca institution.
    Zack smirked. “Yeah,
    and I bet that hot new
    waitress has nothing
    to
    do with your…craving.”
    Parker shrugged. “You
    know me.”
    “Yes, we do,” Carlo said
    dryly. “Now, can we
    please decide where
    we’re going to eat?”
    “Let’s go to Da Silvano
    instead,” Zack
    suggested. “We’ve
    already been to
    Serrano’s twice this
    past week.”
    “Da Silvano is in New
    York,” Carlo pointed out.
    “Yeah, but if we go
    right
    now and take one of
    the jets we’ll probably
    end up missing only
    fourth period.”
    “Fine by me,” Parker
    yawned. “What’s the
    use of having a private
    teacher if he can’t be
    flexible?”
    “I’m sure he’ll be glad
    he’ll finally get a break
    from you
    troublemakers,” a new,
    feminine voice said.
    Parker sat up a bit
    straighter. “Hey, Adri.”
    “Hey.” Adriana looked
    around the room. “Are
    you guys going to lunch
    anytime soon, or are
    you just going to stay
    in
    here all day?” she
    teased.
    “We were thinking
    about going to Da
    Silvano or Serrano’s,”
    Parker said. “What do
    you think?”

    0
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Reply To: All I've Never Wanted… A Novella (Completed)
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