Hi, this is my 'new' story. It's basically like TTOOL, but it's been modified and hopefully, better. The plot was too confusing in TTOOL, so this is just a trial chapter. If you guys like it, I'll continue. :)

Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: all Selection rights belong to the wonderful Kiera Cass

The first day of school was always dreadful. It meant squishing between people in the crowded hallways and being met with a heap of work after spending time relaxing in the summer.

To avoid the loud commotion, I took to walking around the nearly-deserted second floor, waiting for my best friend, Marlee, to come. There was only one other person in the corridor, and he looked lost. I watched him peer at the classroom doors, seemingly looking for his homeroom.

"You need any help?" I asked, my voice echoing down the hall.

He turned around and looked surprised.

"Um, yeah," he said. I smiled at his confusion and walked over to him. He had blond hair like honey and brown eyes like chocolate; he kind of seemed dreamy. Like summertime.

"Hi, I'm America," I introduced with a little wave.

Perplexed by whatever it was, it took him a moment to say, "Oh, uh, hi. I'm Maxon."

"Nice to meet you. Anyway, you needed help?" I asked again.

"Yeah," he said, handing me his schedule.

"Room 208," I read. "Okay, right this way."

I started walking and he did too, alongside me.

"English," I said.

"What?"

"Oh, I was just saying that you have English first."

He rolled his eyes. "Homeroom English isn't fun," he stated.

I laughed. "You have no idea. Ninth grade I had that, and it was torture. We had seminars and essays to complete in the morning." I looked back down at his schedule. "And AP English? Good luck with that."

He smiled and shook his head. "Thank you. I'll need all the luck I can get."

We walked in silence around a corner and listened to the chatter of people slowly filling the halls. Not knowing what to say, he said, "So, what do you have first?"

I handed his schedule back to him and replied, "Music...vocals, in case you were wondering."

He nodded and there was a quietness between us as he observed his surroundings, taking in the school.

"So, you're new here?" I asked.

His eyes flickered onto mine.

"Yeah, my family actually just moved back here. We arrived a few weeks ago."

I raised my eyebrows.

"Wow," I mumbled. "So you're just coming back for senior year?"

He frowned. "How did you know what grade I'm in?"

"Oh," I said, flustered. "It was in your course code on your schedule."

"Right."

We rounded the corner and I led him into the half-full classroom.

"So, there you are. If you need any help, just call for America Singer in room 117."

A flicker of confusion crossed his face before he laughed nervously. "Thanks, but I think I'll be fine."

With a smile, I said, "Okay. Well, have a great first day."

"Thanks. You too."

He walked away to find a seat, and at the same time, a pair of hands covered my eyes. Its owner sang, "Guess who?"

I pried the hands away from me and turned around.

I threw my arms around Marlee and felt hers wrap around me.

"I've missed you," I said.

"We saw each other yesterday," she remarked.

"Whatever. I still missed you," I countered.

She laughed and gave me a squeeze. "So, who was that hot guy you were with?"

I pulled away from her and ushered her down the hall so Maxon wouldn't accidentally hear what we were saying.

"Marlee Tames, were you spying on me?" I asked.

"Maybe," she said, shying away.

I laughed. "And just for the fact, you are a terrible human being. Would you like me to explain?"

She frowned. "Please do."

"Well, you just called a guy hot, even though you're dating Carter." Carter Woodwork was Marlee's blond hair, blue eyed heartthrob. They've been dating for four months now, and before that, they'd been flirting with each other for who knows how long.

"Just because I'm dating someone doesn't mean I can't think other guys aren't hot. Besides, don't you think he is? Or are you scared of what Aspen will say?" Aspen Leger was my sweetheart until a few weeks ago, when he told me that he wasn't enough for me, that I deserved more than him. He wasn't rich and was forced to cram into a small run-down apartment with his six younger siblings and mother. I remember he said that if there was a future of us together, then it would be a shuddering thought; cold, hungry, waiting for something better. I told him that it didn't matter, that I would love him no matter what.

But, stubborn as he was, he didn't let me have my way and decided to end it. My family hadn't known about my relationship with Aspen, so when I spent days cooped up in my room and crying, I told them it was over something stupid, like a sad movie. I loved him. I still did.

"Aspen and I are kind of over now," I said solemnly, fiddling with the ends of my shirt.

Noticing my change, Marlee put a comforting hand over mine. "I'm sorry. It's just that you guys were so happy together. And for two years."

I gave a weak smile and thought back to the summer, when he would hold my hand as we walked down the Los Angeles beaches. I remember how he would tickle my nose and give me whispers of kisses, saying, 'Mer, I love you'. I could still remember how I would run my fingers through his dark hair that smelled like homemade soap and lose myself in those mysterious green eyes.

It was perfect.

But then I remember how those moments seemed to become less and less frequent as he looked at me in a different kind of way. A more concerned one.

"America?" Marlee asked, taking me away from my thoughts.

I blinked.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Hm? Yeah. I'm fine," I lied. I swallowed hard, trying to keep tears from surfacing. I missed him so much.

"I'm really sorry," Marlee said again.

I looked away from her. "It's okay," I whispered. No. I wasn't going to cry.

I took a deep breath and looked into my best friend's brown eyes again.

"Hey, it's okay," she said. "You'll find someone who won't give up on you."

I rolled my eyes as best as I could. "That's definitely not what I need right now."

She laughed and we kept on walking.

Marlee suddenly stopped in her tracks as she saw something. I followed her gaze and muttered, "Oh no."

"Indeed," I heard her say.

There, standing not so far away was Celeste Newsome, or the girl who hated me. She caught my stare and squinted before stalking over to us. She wore a daunting black shirt and equally dark leggings. Her brown hair was tied high into a ponytail and her lips sported a bold red colour. She was intimidating. Her hips swayed with each step of her confident stride. The day hadn't even started and I was already annoyed with her.

I remember one point in time before high school when Celeste had been friendly and nice, but ever since ninth grade started, she hated me with a passion. I never knew why, but I was always determined to find out.

When she finally came to speaking distance, she greeted us, "Ginger, blondie, how are you two?"

I rolled my eyes. "Fine," I bit out.

"Oh my, what a temper."

"Okay, Celeste. Cut to the chase. What do you want?" I asked.

A grimace played on her features and I could see the boys around us melting.

"Nothing. I just wanted to see if you were all right, especially after what happened with Aspen. But it's okay. He deserved so much better than you anyway," she said with a sneer.

I drew in an infuriated breath and told her, "Yes, actually, I'm feeling better. Thank you for being so concerned. Now if you'll excuse us."

She looked me in the eye and said, "Oh, but gingerhead, I really am concerned for you," in the most feigned voice possible.

I gave her a fake smile and said, "Thank you for your sincerity, but you were never that great of an actress."

With that, I turned my back to her, tugged on Marlee's hand, and walked away.

"That girl makes me sick," Marlee spat out.

"Welcome back to Illea High," I muttered to her.

I opened the apartment door and walked through with a sigh. School was terrible. I closed the door shut with a bang.

"Kitten?" a voice, my dad's, asked.

"Daddy? Where are you?"

"In the studio."

I slung my backpack onto the living room's couch and trudged to the studio. The room was designed to be an office, but there was no need for one, so we put all of dad's and May's, my younger sister, artwork there.

In the small space, I saw my dad working on a sketch of a girl reading a book. Not looking up from his piece, he said, "Hi, kitten."

"Hi, daddy," I said. I walked over to him and gave him a kiss against his cheek, feeling the stubble tickle my lips.

I grabbed a nearby stool and pulled it over to sit on.

"How was the first day?" he asked.

"Terrifying. Painful. Everything was horrible."

Instead of pressing on the issue, he thankfully said, "Don't worry. It'll get better." He rested his free hand on my knee and patted it.

I smiled. "Thanks, dad."

He continued to draw, and for a few moments, the only sound I could hear was the quiet scratching of the pencil on the paper.

"Where's May?" he asked.

"Oh, she told me she was going to the mall with her friends."

"The mall? Already? It's only the first day."

"Well, being in ninth grade has its advantages. You have less to worry about."

"Why aren't you at the beach or something? You don't have work already, do you?" dad asked.

"It sucks, but yeah, I have work to do. It's not for school, though. I have to practice for the concert on Saturday," I said.

"Saturday?" dad asked with a frown.

"Yeah. Why?"

"I thought it was on Sunday. I made arrangements for us this Saturday night."

"It's all right. The concert's in the afternoon. And what are we doing that night?"

"We're going to have dinner with our old friends. They actually just moved back in town. They have a son your age who goes to your school."

I raised my eyebrows. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. His name's Maxon. Maxon Schreave."

Hope you enjoyed!

Please review. Tell me what you liked, didn't like, want to see, don't want to see. Btw, did you see what I made different from my other story?

That's all. Bye and have a good day!