"Ladies, ladies, ladies," came a voice from over my shoulder, "It's not even first period and you're already plotting!"

        "Shove off Tyler," Deanna said, visibly annoyed by the interruption. Tyler's leanly athletic build settled between Deanna and me and, as always, shivers ran down my side.

        Built like the surfer he was, Tyler was just the right combination of lean and muscular - not too wimpy, not too buff. His sun-baked skin was deliciously attractive, as were his brownish-hazel eyes. A tousle of beachy brown hair topped the whole package off and unlike most other guys, Tyler could actually pull off the "fresh-from-the-beach" surfer look, especially because half the time it was authentic. Endorsed by some big surf gear company, he practiced pretty much every day at the Clairview beach, usually at sunrise right before school and at again after the final bell.

         I'll admit that the only reason I know all this is because I've been crushing on the guy since I joined the elite ranks of the A-listers.

         But seriously, of all the shallow and self-centered guys I hang with, Tyler's the only one who's remotely like me. Sure, he's as vain as the next and he definitely has no problem making out with drunken sophomores at parties then forgetting about them the next day. But beneath that macho facade is a guy I don't think anyone else knows but me. The whole reason I know this goes back to the first day I met him, somewhere far from the halls of Clairview High...

I was running on the beach. The soft rhythm of the waves crashing on the shore played a delicate undertone to the music flowing from my iPod. Stopping at one of the benches to stretch, I noticed a silhouette on the water, marring what would have been a perfect sunset. Stretching my quad, I watched in fascination as the silhouette suddenly popped up atop one of the waves. Sliding out of the glare of the sun, the surfer coasted along the wave until it crashed. I was too mesmerized to look away, even when he slipped back into the water, paddling back out to sea. But as I was openly staring, I felt his eyes on me too.

Slightly embarassed at having been caught off guard, I started to jog again. Slowly being pulled into my running trance, I snapped out of it just fast enough to dodge the surfboard that suddenly impeded my path.

 "Whoa, sorry!" the surfer said, faking as if he'd just noticed me. I pulled a headphone from one of my ears as I stopped.

 "No problem," I said, smiling while hoping I wasn't too flushed and sweaty from my jog.

 "Tyler Raines," the surfer said, extending his free hand.

 "Madison Carlisle. Just Maddie is fine too," I said, shaking it.

 "Just Maddie it is then," Tyler said with a smile, "So, you go to Clairview High?"

 "Of course," I replied, twisting my ankle to stretch it, "You're new, aren't you?"

 "Yeah, fresh from North Carolina. What's it like around here?" he asked, leaning on his board and looking around, "I mean, what's the school like and stuff?"

 "Want the truth or the sugar-coated lie? You'll only get the first if you promise not to tell," I offered with a rueful smile.

 "Truth. Can't you tell I'm that kind of guy?" he teased. I chuckled.

 "Alright. It's a snake pit of rich brats, probably the same as what you're used to," I said, being painfully honest. Something about this kid just made me comfortable admitting the well-known, but taboo truth.

 "Aw seriously?" he asked, "I moved here hoping to escape all that BS drama,"

 "Better luck next time," I said jokingly, "It's high school, did you really expect any different?" He laughed.

 "Nah, now I've got you, 'just Maddie'. Anyway, you'd best get going before you cool down. See you Monday..."

        "Whoa, she's like totally gone! Earth to Maddie!"

        Jolted from my happy, sunset-filled memories, I came face to face with Tyler, his nose just inches from mine. Obviously my heart went ahead and skipped a few beats.

         "What?" I asked, looking around the table. Everyone was staring at me, including Olivier and Brad who'd evidently decided the arm wrestling winner.

         "So far gone," Deanna smiled, shaking her head. She was opening her mouth to say something else when the deafening ring of the bell cut through the morning air.

         "Ugh, chem," I said, fixing the school with a disgusted stare.

         "Hey, hey! I wanna hear you upbeat! We're gonna kick butt in the lab today!" Tyler said, patting me on the back. His hand stayed there just a little longer than anyone else's would have and I felt the shivers run up my back again. Oh, right. Forgot to mention that Mr. Surfer-of-My-Dreams just so happens to be my lab partner, and a pretty good one at that.

         "Just don't make me light the Bunsen burner this time!" I said, forcing myself to over-act the whole 'hating chem' thing.  Truth is, I love chemistry. It's by far one of my favorite subjects. But running in the crowd I do, I still have to pretend it's the biggest torture ever all while pretending my A+ grades are D's and F's. Thankfully I have a partner in crime, since loving chemistry is just another one of the secrets Tyler and I share.

        "Well c'mon Madison," Tyler said in a mock-nerd voice, springing from the bench, "We definitely absolutely positively can't be late because Mr. Grant might, like, totally absolutely positively spring us a pop quiz!"

         "Tyler, man, don't ever do that again," Brad groaned as the rest of the junior A's at the table rose, agreeing to meet at lunch to recap any news on "Dakota the Druggie".

         "Bite me, dude," Tyler said, sticking his tongue out as we walked off towards the school. I had to fight to keep the stupid grin off my face.  I never suffered from the Mondays because on Mondays I got Tyler all to myself for an entire hour at the beginning of the day, the only two junior A's taking Mr. Grant's chemistry. 

         "You know, you'd make an awesome nerd Maddie," Tyler said, holding the door open for me, "I mean, we'd have to hide that pretty face under some intense coke-bottle glasses, but you'd still be the hottest thing in the comic book shop,"

         "Oh shut up!" I grinned as I nudged him playfully, my insides melting into a puddle. He laughed and threw his arm around my shoulders as we walked down the hallway. I caught a whiff of his cologne mixed in with the salty ocean smell that seemed to follow him everywhere.  For a few seconds of that Monday, I was in heaven.

        "But back to being serious for a minute, can I ask a favor of you?" he said as we made our way through the hallways. Not that it was difficult or anything, people practically jumped out of our way. The freshmen moved especially quickly because to them, while we may not have been the epitome of high school social greatness like my brother and Vicky Carrington, we were still pretty high up on the social totem pole.  Tyler shot a wink at a pair of braces-clad ninth graders, sending them both into a tizzy of giggling whispers.

         "That all depends," I replied, shooting him my best seductive side-eye, "If it involves getting your sandy surfboard into my car again, count me out!"

         Even though my car was my baby, I really could care less if it got sandy, especially when the tradeoff was driving Tyler home from the beach still decked out in all his surfing gear hotness. Totally worth it.

         "Are you ever gonna let me live that one down?" he asked, moving to ruffle my hair. I batted his hand away just in time, giggle-screaming as I ducked away.

         "Never, and you know it!" I teased as I went to open the classroom door. Just as my hand reached the handle, Tyler slid around me and leaned his back on the door. I barely stopped in time, my senses snapping to high alert now that our faces were once again just inches from each other.

         "Seriously Maddie, darling, will you?" he asked.  The combination of the puppy-dog look in his big hazel eyes and his intoxicating nickname had me weak in the knees; if he'd asked for the moon and all the stars in the sky I would've agreed.

         "What do you need me to do?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. I wondered for a horrified moment if he could hear my heart hammering in my chest. It was nearly deafening to me.

         "I've got a qualifying thing on Friday so can I get your class notes?" he asked. I blinked my mascaraed lashes a few times before the words sank in. My brain was short-circuited by his proximity and it was all I could do to keep my eyes from slipping down to his lips.

         "Yeah, sure," I managed, "I'd be glad t-"

         "God, can you two get a room?" came an obnoxious voice from behind me, "Some of us want to get to class!"

         "Chill out Schneidi," Tyler said, moving his hand to the handle on top of mine. His fist clenched ever so slightly around mine as he turned it. Our fingers danced together for a few moments as they disconnected from the door, but the mood was murdered thanks to Dakota Schneider's sneering face behind me.

         Dakota was a sworn enemy of all A and even B-Listers. Heck, she was a sworn enemy of anyone who wasn't a psycho artsy activist with really bad hair like herself. Dakota Schneider wasn't ugly, but she definitely wasn't hot. She had limp, mousy brown hair that was in desperate need of some highlights and a blow dryer and muddy brown eyes hidden behind black-framed hipster glasses, her only desperate attempt at looking fashionable. She dressed badly, usually wearing tacky t-shirts with stupid activist slogans and ill-fitting Old Navy men's jeans. Worst of all was her beat up old messenger bag, covered in more activist graffiti than the back wall of a 7-Eleven on the bad side of town.

         In short, she was the polar opposite of everything my friends and I strived to be. But Dakota was the queen bee of the dorks: she held court among the AV nerds, band geeks, and socially awkward honor students. Nevertheless, a sworn enemy of the A-Listers is a person each and every A-Lister must do everything in their power to bring down.

         "Geez, I guess the rumors are true then," I said nonchalantly to Tyler as we walked in, making sure Dakota could hear me, "Definitely looks like DK misses her morning high. Maybe next time she'll be a little more careful with her stash, you know?"

         "Oh shut it Princess Cute!" Dakota snapped as she sat down. She was opening her thin mouth to say something else when Mr. Grant rapped the table with his knuckles.

         "That's quite enough Dakota," he said, then in response to my triumphant smile, "You too Madison, class started three minutes ago,"

         "Princess Cute huh?" Tyler whispered as Mr. Grant outlined the lab procedure, "She's getting wittier every day."

         I giggled as he reached under the lab table for goggles and aprons, my stomach turning in revulsion at how easily I'd baited her. I felt bad being so catty when Tyler was around, but it was an unwritten law that we must do anything we can to bring down Dakota Schneider. Tyler was a part of the Dakota-bashing too, but I doubt he slipped so easily into being so cruel.  Thoroughly disgusted with myself, I pulled out my lab handout and started preparing the materials. I wasn't going to let her ruin my favorite hour of the week.

Hope you're enjoying it so far! If you are, please vote and comment! If you're not, care to comment why? Any and all feedback is appreciated :)