A/N: I've always wanted to attempt an AU for this fandom, so that's what I'm going to do. I don't own DBZ. Thanks and enjoy!

She should have been excited for tomorrow.

Her last year at West City High began in the morning, 7:35 a.m., and it was nearly midnight now. She sat on her balcony, her glass pipe and a half-smoked bowl sat by her diet soda, chair reclined to give her a full view of the night sky.

The best part about living in the west hills was the night sky. It was beautiful. Barely any light pollution, her house perched at the very top of the mountain. The stars were so big and beautiful, and she had spent many summer nights out here by herself, wondering what lay beyond the void of space and time. Deep thoughts far too in depth for her to begin wondering about at 2 a.m., wrapped in a blanket and crying over a picture sent to her from an unknown number.

A picture of Yamcha, her now ex-boyfriend, hand up the skirt of one of her fellow peers.

It came one random night after he had cancelled on her, claiming he didn't feel well after they had partied at Chi's the night before. She had understood. He drank a lot of beer and had thrown up all the next morning according to Krillin. She let it go, telling him to sleep, even offering to bring him over some soup, but he declined, already dozing off on the phone call.

Four hours later she was staring at her phone, tears rolling down her eyes, glued to a picture of her boyfriend, lip locked with another blue haired girl. She'd thrown her phone, and threw herself on the bed, pulling out every single dramatic teenage cliché while she felt her heart breaking.

That had been two months ago. She had moved on for the most part, but she was dreading starting school again. She wasn't one for typical teenage angst, scoffed at the idea that she could ever act like that, and here she was.

Her eyes drifted from the sky down to the valley and to the bright lights of the city, still buzzing despite the late hour. There was a subtle shift between the quiet mansions transitioning into the large up scale apartments overlooking the beach that she could see and hear gently rolling in waves. Downtown was a shock of light, with skyscrapers standing stoic and silent next to loud bars and clubs that reverberated through the streets.

She sighed heavily, thinking about taking another hit from her pipe, but deciding against it. Smoking wasn't something she did heavily. It was more of a way for her to mellow out. She was busy body by nature, picked up in the gene pool from both her scientist father and socialite mother. They were ungodly busy 24/7, leaving little time for her, which had surprisingly grown to be annoying the older she got. Rarely was she ever able to just sit down and talk with her parents. Hell, it had been a month into the break-up before they even knew about Yamcha.

She loved her parents, she did, but she needed them to be parents. She didn't need cash shelled out to her whenever they flew off to a different country for vacation or the latest Gucci and Prada collections, clothing and purses that sat in her massive walk-in closet because they were too expensive to even take outside in the sun. She had tried telling them this once, but it fell on deaf ears when they flew to Italy three days after.

She may have once loved all the gifts and the presents and the bragging rights of having famous designers at her beck and whim, but now, at the cusp of turning 18, on the edge of being able to leave this town to make a name for herself trumped all of that useless stuff.

She dreamed of going off to college in another city, away from the bullshit classist affairs she had been exposed to all her life. She wanted to tough it in a dorm with her friends, eat shitty cafeteria food and learn from those around her. She wanted to be around people who didn't have much growing up, who earned their way in. She wanted to make new friends, commiserate over homework and grades. She wanted to do all the things she couldn't do here.

But, unfortunately, she had to make it through this last and final year.

Then she could breath. She could be Bulma Briefs.

A whistle broke through the serene silence of her thoughts, paired with the giggles she easily placed. A smile grew on her face and she stood up, leaning over her balcony to see Eighteen and Chi-Chi on bikes, in their pajamas, waving her to come down to join them. She rolled her eyes playfully and after cleaning up, the three set off down into the valley, towards their spot on the beach. This had become a summer ritual for as long as she could remember. All the way back to seventh grade, when they all met for the first time, bonding over boys and fashion and being hormonal teenagers who thought the world owed them for merely being alive.

The beach was secluded for a Wednesday night, allowing them to walk barefoot along the sand with on restriction, no one to pass by them and stare at three teenage girls out on a school night. There was a rock in the center of the beach. A giant, odd shaped boulder that they could gather underneath, out of the sun, or in this case, out of the moonlight. Their initials were carved into it amongst the litter of other couple's initials and scraggly writings in sharpie. Their spot wasn't exclusive during the day, but it was just for them when it was too dark to see the water on the horizon.

They crawled underneath and relaxed, Eighteen pulling out a stash of wine coolers she had brought along in her bag, as well as a towel they laid down to protect from sandy asses on the way home. It was a long while before anyone dared to speak.

"Seniors, huh?"

"Yeah…isn't that insane?"

Bulma hummed, sipping a strawberry cooler and shoving her feet in the cool sand, wriggling her painted toes around. She loved the feeling of being barefoot on the beach. There wasn't anything that had come close to feeling so comforting in a while.

"It just went by so quick," Eighteen mused, "I remember the first time I met you two fuck ups."

Chi-Chi nudged her but tried to hide a smile underneath her disapproving frown. Eighteen had always been honest like that. She didn't hold back, spoke her mind, much like all of them, but the blonde had a way of utterly destroying anyone who dared to step to her. Eighteen had gotten her and Chi out of so many sticky situations, it was laughable at this point.

Chi-Chi on the other hand, was far tamer out of the three of them. Her father was a conservative senator, and she had grown up to be a just like that. Sometimes, she was far too uptight in the activities they partook, but once they were able to talk her into doing something, she was in full force. Bulma loved them both like sisters and wouldn't trade them for anything.

"Fuck ups? We met you in the principal's office on your first day at school because you tripped Mr. Collard in class."

"He looked down my shirt, I wasn't going to let that pervert get away with shit!"

Chi-Chi shushed her giggled, leaning into Eighteens side. Bulma laughed, downing the rest of her drink before adding, "Well every seventh-grade girl who had his class was glad you did."

"See, I did you both a favor."

"I have his wife for Calculus this semester," Chi-Chi groaned, "And Mrs. Greens for Honors English. I should have been smart like you and slammed all my credits out last year so I could have easy classes."

Bulma had slammed them out indeed. Her entire junior year had practically been spent in a book. Long nights of study and near mental breakdowns just so she could enjoy her blow off classes. Most of the classes she had naively signed up with Yamcha, and instead of looking forward to not having her nose in a book all year, she was wishing she hadn't listened to his impassioned pleas to spend all the time they could with each other.

"Yeah, well, at least you won't be spending almost every class with your ex-boyfriend."

"How is dickhead?"

Bulma smirked over at Eighteen, but it fell quickly. She wiggled her toes in the sand again, staring at the pattern of her pajama bottoms.

"He didn't text me at all today. So, that's improvement."

Chi-Chi rested her head on her shoulder, "Any idea who sent that text?"

"Still no idea. I'm not really sure I want to find out."

"Well I do," Chi-Chi piped up, "Goku swears up and down no one on the football team even knew Yamcha was cheating on you, or that anyone was even at Beats that night."

"God, he took her to the trashiest club he could find," Eighteen chuckled, "I don't know why every guy insists on taking girls there. It smells like piss and the beer they serve under the table is practically water."

"That's why I'm thankful for Goku. Our first date was- "

"At a little café on the boardwalk, followed up by a long walk on the beach. So romantic."

Chi-Chi huffed and sat back, Bulma and Eighteen emulating her voice to perfectly and reciting the same line she had for the past two years. The girls burst into giggles, the bluenette and blonde falling against her, wrapping her up in a hug. They sat there, chatting for another hour before riding their bikes home. When Bulma finally climbed into bed, she sighed heavily and checked her phone. She would be tired tomorrow morning and would have to carve out time for a coffee run before class. But, being with her friends tonight on the beach, laughing and enjoying their final moments of summer, she was looking forward to tomorrow just a little more than she had.

She set her phone down, making sure it was charging and settled in, falling asleep as the gentle breeze from her open balcony doors lulled her to sleep.