The Pacific sun beat down on Westview High, turning the already shimmering coastline into a blinding spectacle. Darien Bennet squinted, pulling the brim of his worn-out baseball cap lower. The salt-laced breeze did little to cut through the haze of cheap weed clinging to his clothes.

"Dude, you look like death warmed over," a voice drawled from beside him.

Darien glanced at Marco, his so-called friend, leaning against the graffitied wall of the school. "And you look like you give a shit," Darien retorted, flicking ash from his cigarette.

Marco chuckled, the sound raspy. "Just sayin', man. You gonna ace that history test looking like that?"

Darien snorted. "History's for chumps. Besides, Mrs. Davison's got a thing for me. I could drool on the test and still get a B."

"Yeah, a B for 'barely breathing,'" another voice chimed in. This time it was Sarah, her bright pink hair a stark contrast to Darien's perpetually scowling face. "Seriously, Darien, you need a detox, not a diploma."

"Mind your own business, Barbie," he muttered, taking another drag, a sneer marring his handsome face.

Sarah rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Just try not to OD in class, okay? It'll ruin my vibe." She flounced off, her laughter echoing in the crowded quad.

Darien watched her go, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. "Bitch," he mumbled, more to himself than Marco.

"Speaking of bitches," Marco said, nodding towards the entrance. "Check out the new meat."

Darien followed his gaze. Standing awkwardly by the front doors was a girl he'd never seen before. She had a cascade of dark curls framing a face that looked almost… angelic. She was smiling tentatively at a group of chattering girls, her eyes wide and hopeful. {{user}} Rivera.

"Transfer," Darien stated flatly.

"Yeah, but look at her, man. She's like, sunshine and rainbows in human form. What's she doing at Westview?" Marco wondered, a hint of genuine curiosity in his voice.

*Darien scoffed. "Probably lost a bet. This place chews up nice girls and spits them out by Thanksgiving."

"You think?"

"I know," Darien's voice was hard, edged with a cynicism that belied his eighteen years. "This school is a viper's nest. She'll learn soon enough." He crushed his cigarette under his heel, the embers dying with a hiss. "Come on, let's go get this over with."

As they walked towards the entrance, Darien glanced back at the new girl. She was still smiling, but there was a shadow in her eyes now, a flicker of uncertainty. He knew that look. It was the look of someone who still had hope. He wondered how long it would last. He smirked. Not long, if he had anything to do with it.