The Courtyard

Blair Vanderbilt

"I take that as a yes?" Oliver said, closing his textbook. Blair nodded, a smile still on her face. She twisted a shiny, dark curl - one of the few locks in front that were not pulled away from her face by a white headband, which cost about a hundred dollars (pure Italian silk was very expensive) around her finger. She was wearing it in the new way that she'd seen in InStyle, with a few forelocks loose so that one could acheive the loose hair look (thus able to casually brush it back as a method of flirting) and the headband look at the same time.

"I don't mean to interfere or anything, but doesn't it bother you that they all want to be you? It doesn't creep you out, that people take notes on your clothes, your appearance? It doesn't really help you stand out if there are twenty Blairs cavorting across Bela Nombre." He put his elbows on the table and rest his chin on his fists. "I kinda pegged you for individuality, Blair."

Blair smiled her signature, 'You can't stop looking at me, can you?' smile. "The cheap imitations always pale in comparison to the original," she said. "Plus, they're always a step behind me." It was all true; she was rocking a different look today, one that totally eclipsed the cheap Blair imitations. But then again, she could have worn what they were weariing and still eclipsed them. It was all about the aura.

Oliver Vandrose

She flashed an alluring smile, while twilring a piece of hair. "The cheap imitations always pale in comparison to the original," she said. He shrugged. "Plus, they're always a step behind me."

He cocked an eyebrow, then chuckled quietly before shaking his head. "If there's one thing Ifear i'll never understnad, it's fashion and the obsession with it." He turned on the bench, so that he was facing the open courtyard, and Blair would have recieved a profile of his face instead of sitting nose-to-nose as they had been. "It's only pieces of fabric sewed together."

He offered her a smile, which she only saw half of, as he ocntinued to stare out across the courtyard.

Blair Vanderbilt

Oliver turned away from her so that she could only see his profile. She preferred the way it was before. It wasn't that he didn't have a really nice profile, because he did (she supposed it was a vampire thing). It was more because he was even harder to read that way, because she couldn't see his eyes properly. As if he wasn't confusing enough.

"If there's one thing I fear I'll never understand, it's fashion and the obsession with it. It's only pieces of fabric sewed together," he said with a grin. She nearly rolled her eyes. Typical guy response. Even vampires were sort of human, after all. That was sort of comforting.

"Well, duh, that's because you're a guy. Guys never get fashion. Unless they're gay or metrosexual or if they're just unbelievably classy, like George Peppard," she said and then added hastily, "No offense or anything. It's just that you never had Audrey Hepburn in close range, so none of her classiness rubbed off on you like it did with George Peppard." She paused. "Wait, you've watched Breakfast At Tiffany's, right?"

Oliver Vandrose

He saw her roll her eyes in his peripheral vision, and grinned. "Well, duh, that's because you're a guy. Guys never get fashion. Unless they're gay or metrosexual or if they're just unbelievably classy, like George Peppard," she said quickly, as if it were all blaring obvious. It wasn't the answer he'd expected; he'd half-prepared for Blair to get all 'OMG-no-you-didn't' on him. Usually girls were protective of their faith in fashion, their worship to D&G and whatever else there was out there. It was like any other religion; attack it, and they battle back. But he was confused by her last statement. George Peppard? Who?

"No offense or anything," she breezed on, unaware of his musings. "It's just that you never had Audrey Hepburn in close range, so none of her classiness rubbed off on you like it did with George Peppard." She paused, and he turned his chin towards her. "Wait, you've watched Breakfast At Tiffany's, right?"

He laughed. "No, Blair." He pointed ot his chest, and lowered his voice an octave. "Vampire, remember? We tend to do things other than plant ourselves before a TV. Like hunt, survive. . . you know, the usual."

Blair Vanderbilt

Okay. Okay. She was not going to freak out because he hadn't seen Breakfast At Tiffany's, which she watched at least once a week (usually on Sundays) and which was on her iPod Video, just in case she wanted to watch it during the day. She was not going to freak out because he apparently hadn't heard of George Peppard.

Instead, she said, "There is nothing more important or better to do than to watch Audrey Hepburn. That woman is a goddess," she declared. "Okay, I have Breakfast At Tiffany's on my iPod, and you're gonna watch it and you're gonna like it."

Blair stood up, taking her iPod out of her Louis Vuitton bag and unraveling the earphones. She sat down next to Oliver, gave him the right earphone and put the left one in her own ear, and started the movie, letting the opening notes of Moon River wash over her like a warm bath. She sighed dreamily. Audrey made everything better.

Oliver Vandrose

She seemed to be, although she was trying very hard to hide it, highly offended that her favorite actress -- no, her idol -- had gone unseen and unworshipped by him. "There is nothing more important or better to do than to watch Audrey Hepburn. That woman is a goddess," she decreed, and then her expression turned resolute as an idea struck her -- one Oliver was sure he'd regret. "Okay, I have Breakfast At Tiffany's on my iPod, and you're gonna watch it and you're gonna like it."

He sighed. "Blair, I don't--" But she had already stood up, pulling the sleek device out of her expensive purse and began to unravel the tangle of earbuds. She handed him one and placed the other in her own ear; Oliver followed suit hesitantly before she turned on the started the film she'd been looking for. As if began, Oliver's thoughts were no where near the movie or what the flashing pictures meant.

Why was Blair so. . . so. . . insufferable? Okay, maybe that was a bit harsh. But didn't she realize that by being so. . . pushy, she was pushing people away? He glanced at her; she seemed to be so involved int eh movie already that he doubted she even remembered him sitting beside her on the cold, hard bench. He sighed, and then pulled out the headphone.

"Blair, I can't," he said, glancing around the courtyard; even those who had been tactful earlier in their gazing at the Queen Blair and her newest interest were full-pelt staring now, their eyes wide and mouths open in gasps of shock, surprise, or realization, whichever fit. He threw a look of contempt to them all, knowing full well what they were thinking, because he was sure Blair had intended it in some small way. Here was the reclusive Oliver, who avoided attracting attention at every turn; there was Blair, who had her own, personalized spotlight. Mix them together, and what do you get. . .

He stood up. "Blair, I'm sorry, but no. I'm not watching the movie with you." He realized how icy his tone was, and his shoulders lumped. "Not here. Not like this." He reached over her and picked up his Calculus textbook. "I've got to go."

He turned on his heel and escaped into the school hallway; even as he walked, he could hear the silence following the scene, and then the sudden, abrupt buzz of conversation about Blair's rejection as the courtyard melted behind him. He reached the locker hallway and stopped, leaning against the wall, his eyes closed.

There wasn't anything resembling peace and quiet in this world, was there?

Oliver has left the courtyard.

Blair Vanderbilt

Okay, Oliver's rejection hurt. A lot. But she was a queen, so she couldn't let it show (plus, Audrey Hepburn would never be that pethetic). She pretended like she didn't care, even though she did. Blair snapped her fingers and her entourage quickly formed a crowd around her. "Come on," she said. "We're leaving."

Blair stood up and strode out of the courtyard, her posse in tow. But then a voice kept nagging at her. It's because you're fat and ugly, it said.

I am not! she shouted at it in her head, but keeping her composure like a lady.

Ugly, ugly, fat and ugly... it taunted her until she couldn't take it anymore.

"I have to go to the bathroom," she said. "Don't follow me."

And with that, she went to the ladies' room so she could stick her finger down her throat.

Some lady.

Blair has left the courtyard.

When Johanna mentioned that she disliked stereotypes, she awaited Ruby's response with much curiousity. "Believe me, neither am I. Defy stereotypes! Be your own person!" Ruby said, as Johanna rolled her eyes and smiled. "But I'm guessing you already knew that, huh?" Johanna raised an eyebrow at this, but it looked like Ruby had more to say so she made no comment quite yet. "But I don't make the labels. They do." Ruby gestured to the rest of the label-obsessed teens. "And to them, it's everything. Everything in the world." By the end of Ruby's speech, Johanna was trying to stifle her laughter. It all sounded so much like those reality shows where people are plotting against eachother, and competing.

Instead she put on a serious face, and replied "Oh no! Does this mean I'll be labeled as an individual? Perish the thought!" By this time, Johanna couldn't hold back her laughter anymore, recieving many strange looks from everyone in the courtyard, who were clearly wondering what could be so funny. "Well, lucky I'm only here for a year or I'd be seriously worried about what a school like this might do to me." Johanna wondered what argument Ruby could make with her now.

Ruby Gehringer

Ruby began to get slightly annoyed with Johanna as they talked--her constant habit of rolling her eyes at Ruby's comments would be considered rude by some. Only the fact that Johanna shared Ruby's views on the social ladder kept her from commenting on Johanna's behavior. Besides, maybe some people are just like that. So...cynical, so sarcastic. It might be just what she's used to.

"I don't make the labels. They do. And to them, it's everything. Everything in the world,"[/b] Ruby said. Johanna was obviously trying to keep herself from bursting into laughter. Ruby raised one eyebrow as Johanna spoke, instantly putting a mask of solemnity on her face. "Oh no! Does this mean I'll be labeled as an individual? Perish the thought!" She did start laughing then, and after a moment, Ruby joined her. "I know! How...how scandalous! People who think for themselves!" She shook her head, still giggling. "Perhaps we could start a club or something."

Heads turned as the others in the courtyard gave them the strange looks Ruby thrived on. She waved merrily to them. "You get used to the weird looks," she explained to Johanna. "I personally love them, but hey...I'm weird like that." She chuckled.

"Well, lucky I'm only here for a year or I'd be seriously worried about what a school like this might do to me." Ruby thought for a moment about this. "Well..." she said slowly, considering each word. "It's actually not that bad. You just have to ignore them and be your own person. If you can do that," she grinned, "I'm sure you're going to love it here. Because I'll let you in on a little secret...being a social outcast is so much fun....if you're willing to be one."

Johanna wondered if Ruby would ever understand that she did not care what she was labeled, because she would be able to go home in a year. "Oh no! Does this mean I'll be labeled as an individual? Perish the thought!" Johanna was happy to see that Ruby was laughing along with her.

"I know! How...how scandalous! People who think for themselves!" Ruby shook her head and didn't stop laughing.

Johanna agreed with her. "Yes, what a terrible thing that would be. I can hardly imagine the terror that would cause amongst the world"

Ruby continued "Perhaps we could start a club or something." Johanna nodded, still giggling along with Ruby.

Johanna, apparently, wasn't the only one who noticed the crowd of people staring at the two girls who were laughing so hard at something. "You get used to the weird looks," she explained to Johanna as she waved to the people giving them the looks. "I personally love them, but hey...I'm weird like that."

Johanna smiled at that comment and said "Nothing wrong with getting strange looks from people who really have nothing better to do with their lives." Johanna directed this last comment at the students giving them the looks who immediately stopped looking at them. Johanna gave Ruby a triumphant smile and said "Well, lucky I'm only here for a year or I'd be seriously worried about what a school like this might do to me"

Ruby seemed to be thinking carefully about what she would say next. "Well... "It's actually not that bad. You just have to ignore them and be your own person. If you can do that," Ruby grinned, "I'm sure you're going to love it here. Because I'll let you in on a little secret...being a social outcast is so much fun....if you're willing to be one."
Johanna chuckled at Ruby's last comment. "Well, perhaps I'll give it a try... It sounds quite ineteresting." Johanna put a look of mock horror on her face "Oh, but what will everyone else think of me!?"

Ruby Gehringer

Ruby was enjoying trading sarcastic comments with Johanna, although she still wasn't certain if she liked this girl yet. She seemed almost too cynical, too reserved. Ruby wondered if she was always like this, or if the sarcasm was part of a facade the new girl was using to protect herself from the strangeness of a new school in a new country.

"You get used to the weird looks," she explained to Johanna after a particularly funny remark. "I personally love them, but hey...I'm weird like that."

"Nothing wrong with getting strange looks from people who really have nothing better to do with their lives," Johanna replied breezily while looking at their fellow students, who immediately averted their eyes. Ruby chuckled. "Nice. But don't be mean to them--then they might stop staring permanently. And then I wouldn't get to have any fun at all." She pretended to pout for a moment.

Johanna smiled victoriously and Ruby laughed. Johanna then said, "Well, lucky I'm only here for a year or I'd be seriously worried about what a school like this might do to me"

Ruby explained that Bela Nombre High had it's perks, even if it wasn't the greatest school in the world. You just have to ignore them and be your own person. If you can do that, I'm sure you're going to love it here. Because I'll let you in on a little secret...being a social outcast is so much fun....if you're willing to be one."

Johanna laughed. "Well, perhaps I'll give it a try... It sounds quite interesting." With a look of faux terror on her face, she added, "Oh, but what will everyone else think of me!?"

Ruby looked around the courtyard and grinned. "They'll think, 'Oh, look, there's the weird girl who actually thinks for herself! How shocking! Oh, wait, of course. No wonder she's bizarre--the Gehringer girl has taken her under her wing and brainwashed her to her free-spirited ways. What a shame.' And we'll just laugh and laugh."

Nathaniel Grant

Blair had called him just before first period had started and just as Nate was about to finish the big fatty he had been smoking. Said they 'needed to talk' or whatever. She had sounded pretty weird, actually. Nate hoped nothing was wrong or anything. Anyway, she had seemed pretty down so he had gotten her some chocolates - Godiva truffles. The gold collection.

He spotted Blair sitting in the courtyard on one of the wooden benches, calm and composed and beautiful, like always. She still seemed kind of down, actually.

Nate went over to her and gave her a quick peck on the lips, resisting the urge to totally make out with her because he knew she probably wouldn't like that since it wasn't ladylike or whatever. "Hey, sweetheart," he said, handing her the chocolates. "I got you these. You seemed pretty down on the phone, so..." Nate shrugged, smiling at her with those famously gorgeous blue eyes of his. "So what's up?"

Blair Vanderbilt

After her encounter with Oliver in the woods, she had the strangest feeling that something wasn't right - something other than her screwed up family and body situation - and, over a viewing of Breakfast At Tiffany's last night, she had finally figured out the answer. She still liked Oliver. For some inexplicable reason, she still felt attracted to him, wanted to pin him against one of those trees and make out with him and -

Well, that wasn't the point. The point was that clearly Nate wasn't doing his job. Clearly she wasn't over Oliver. So, for both her and Nate's sakes, they had to break up so she could find someone else who would get her over Oliver. Someone like Nate, maybe, but it probably wasn't Nate, if things still hadn't fallen into place with them yet. The trouble was that, in this town, she had no idea where to find someone like Nate, someone suitable. Someone hot, someone sweet, someone wealthy. Someone her mother would approve of. And it was just so unfair that she had to do this, that she had to break up with the most perfect boy she had ever met. In trying to find someone to fault for this, she pinned the blame on Oliver. If he hadn't been there to ruin things, everything would have gone exactly as planned, exactly according to the script of the movie of her life she had written in her head. She and Nate could have had their happy ending.

Blair pushed the thoughts out of her head. They were just going to make what she had to do even harder.

It was yet harder when she saw Nate's handsome face and had to force a smile on her face. "Nate," she greeted him warmly, but without using her pet name for him, Natie. Blair felt it wouldn't be appropriate in this situation.

"Hey, sweetheart," he said, pecking her on the lips. Blair swallowed as he handed her a box of Godiva truffles. The gold collection. ""I got you these. You seemed pretty down on the phone, so..." Nate shrugged with a sweet smile, and Blair felt a lump rising in her throat. It just wasn't fair, dammit. Nate was everything she had ever wanted - he was always attentive, always sweet, gave her gifts for no reason except that he felt like it. He treated her with the effortless fondness and care that the perfect boyfriend should. He was perfect.

So why didn't she like him the way she should?

"It's my favorite," she said softly, looking down at the box and then swallowing down the lump in her throat and looking at Nate, her composure regained. "Nate, we need to talk."

"So what's up?" he asked.

Blair took a deep breath steeling herself for what she had to do. "Nate, we need to break up," she said, laying her cards down on the table immediately, before she could convince herself to stick with him. "It's not that I don't like you, because I do, and you have no idea how badly I wanted to make this work, but..." Blair cut herself off as she felt the lump in her throat returning. "I hope we can still be friends," she finished, gathering her books and swallowing. Blair ran to the bathroom, trying to purge herself of the insane crappiness of her life by purging the food she had eaten for lunch from her body.

Because God knows, she needed to purge certain feelings about a certain boy from her system.

Blair Vanderbilt has left the Courtyard.

Nathaniel Grant

"Nate, we need to talk."

"So what's up?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

After a pause and a deep breath she said the words. "Nate, we need to break up," she said.

"What?!" Nate asked her, alarmed, hoping that this was a joke. She looked pretty serious to him, but she seemed like the type who would be a pretty good actress if she needed to be, so he doubted it. But then that would mean that she was really breaking up with him. And that couldn't be true.

"It's not that I don't like you, because I do, and you have no idea how badly I wanted to make this work, but..."

"There's someone else, isn't there?" he asked, feeling like one of those stupid people on one of those stupid soap operas or whatever. But there had to be someone else, or she wouldn't be breaking up with him. He hadn't done anything wrong, that much he was sure of, because she had wanted to make it work, hadn't she? So there was someone else. And Nate was pretty sure he knew who it was. She had said who it was herself, at the smoking spot. Oliver Vandrose.

Give the boy a prize!

She didn't answer his question. "I hope we can still be friends," she finished, grabbing her books and running off. Meanwhile, Nate clenched his fist and banged it on the table, wishing it was that Oliver guy's face. When he found him, he would totally make him pay.

This occasion called for an extra large fatty.

Oh, brother.

Nate has left the Courtyard.