Title: How To Save A Broken Heart

Rating: T

Fandom: Cory In The House

Pairing: NewtxOC centric

OC's name: Rebel Marie Sawyers

Chapter 1: That Girl

REBEL POV

Okay, this is my story. You might be asking who I am, I'm Rebel Marie Sawyers, and I'm about to tell you how I fell in love with the guy that everyone never expected me to, and how my mom's death lead to it.

Let me give you some background info first:

I'm Rebel, as I've said. My name isn't Rebel because I'm a red neck, or because I'm some crazed Anarchy possessed rocker chick, it's just my name, I'm not sure how I got it, but I guess it's like the celebrities naming their kids Rumour and Apple and what not, I just got stuck with a really sucky name.

I began to go by Marie, until I decided it was really quite worse than Rebel and the name Rebel made me stand out, you know, sorta like Sharpay Evans in High School Musical, there will never be anyone with her name, just like there will never be anyone with mine.

I started to go to Washington Prepatory School ever since K-3, when I went to their kindergarten program. On the first day, I met one of my lifetime best friends, Jason Stickler and come to find out, he lived four houses down from me, so needless to say we did and still do hang out quite a bit. When we were in K-5 the teacher brought in this little kid with a mop of blonde hair that was oddly swooshed to one side and he had a necklace around his neck with a guitar on it. From that moment on I thought he was the biggest freak the good Lord ever put on this earth.

Then, the teacher had the audacity to sit him in between me and Jason. His name didn't even fit in the alphabetical thing, Sawyers, Livingston, Stickler, see it just doesn't fit. He didn't fit either. Picture this: a girl with perfectly straight blonde hair in a black dress reminiscent of Wednesday Adams (you know, black except for the collar and white caps on the ends of black, poofy sleeves), a wild looking boy in a plain red T-Shirt, long blonde hair, and that horrid necklace, then a kid with slicked down brown hair, a white shirt with a bright red tie. It does not fit, I say.

Then, the wild boy, as I called him turns to me and says, "Hi I'm Newton Livingston the third, you can call me Newt though." I nod politely and smile and then the boy says the one thing at that moment that I did not want to hear, "You're pretty, I like you." Then Jason, busts out in a fit of laughter. It was one of the most horrific days of my life.

You know what, that whole "You're pretty, I like you" thing, he meant it with all his heart as every year he'd fight for his place in my heart. Like in 4th grade, he gave me this Valentine on Valentine's Day with a heart shaped guitar on it, pink, of course, knowing me, that said "Rebel, you rock my world love, Newt". Me, being 10 years old and easily disgusted by this boy I folded it up and put it back in the bag and chucked it in the bin when I got home.

Then, when it hit him hard was in sixth grade, when we were allowed to go to the Winter Ball at the Middle School, since we now went to said Middle school. He asked me I swear, nine times. Each I responded, "Sorry Newt, I'm going with someone else." I usually found someone, thank God, but I never wanted to go with him. Especially in seventh grade. Same annual dance, same boy. But this year, something changed, I had a crush on my lifetime friend, Jason Stickler, and we got another new kid. Meena Parhoom. Jason fell for her from the first time he saw her. He then began to search her and put his little satellites on her. Even I thought it was weird, but still, I was jealous. I wanted him to like me. I vowed, it was going to be my life's mission to make Meena Parhoom's life a living hades. That I did. I started by telling people that her bookbag, you know, the infamous yak back pack, well, that it was made out of the family cat. It was too funny to see people so freaked out about it. Rumor after rumor followed, with the help of Jason as my partner in crime, we became two of the most feared people in the seventh grade and following. Jason for his mad tracking and researching skills, and me for my mouth and my head. Odd thing, Newt Livingston began hanging around with this girl. I guess freaks are destined to find other freaks and befriend them.

Then there was eighth grade. The two freaks found themselves a not so freak called Cory Baxter. He was the only one of the so called "DC3" that I could stand to be around. No, I didn't like him like that, but he wasn't that horrible. He wasn't the slightest bit funny, much to his disagreement. But to me, he will always be remembered as the steeplechase boy. I will remember that night till the day I die. My mom, being a White House secretary got to go to the "Horse Party" regardless to the fact that I had never ridden a horse in my life, I was the ballet dancer type. I got to go too. So I got dressed in this gorgeous, one of a kind dress, it was Pink, and it fell to my ankles in layers, it V-ed at the neck, but not too much, and had a really cute waistband. The main reason I wouldn't ever forget it was because that was the night that Jason told me I looked beautiful, and that about killed me. Then, bless his heart, Newt attempted to ask me out, again.

Little did I know, in less the nine months, Newt Livingston was going to be my only hope. My only friend. No, not even Jason could help me in this situation. When my mom died in my house fire, it was the worst day of my life, and Newt was the only one who could change me from the self destruction I had began, to the new life I would start. This is my story. This is our story.