Chapter Text
A/N: If you're new to this fic, welcome!!
This story has become a passion project for me over the past few months and it's been SO fun to write. I promise that if you continue to read that the chapters become much more interesting and fleshed out -- I hope you enjoy!
A couple notes:
* The events of this story take place BEFORE Tori shows up to Hollywood Arts (this is Freshmen Year)
*This is all told through Jade's POV
*Jade has not yet fully developed into her character that we see in the show... yet.
*I try to incorporate as MANY details nodding to the show as I can -- let me know when you catch them!
I walked into my screenwriting class with a to-go coffee cup in hand and sat in one of the many empty chairs. Nobody, including the teacher, Mr. Gradstein , had shown up for 1st period, yet. The lights were still off and only a few rays of the morning sun had begun to illuminate the large, dull room. I liked to show up a little earlier than everyone else so that I could claim an additional seat as a footstool to prop my feet up onto. I opted for a seat near the back of the room and took a sip of my coffee. The hot liquid burned my tongue, but not enough to prevent me from continuing. I could feel it heating my body from the inside out, making me almost sweat. During this time of year, most people might prefer a cool, iced drink, but the comfort of a hot coffee in the morning is one of the few things that bring me true joy.
I sat there for a few moments, enjoying my solitude. There was no talking, no yelling here. I could take a few full breaths and let my mind be clear. I braced myself for change as people slowly began to file in. To let people know not to speak to me, I fished out my notebook and pretended to focus on a drawing. The page was covered in indistinguishable scribbles.
Mr. Gradstein came in at some point, but did not make much conversation with anyone. Once the 5 strikes of the bell commenced class he finally addressed us all.
“You kids know the drill. Get out your notebooks and follow along.”
We did know the drill. Every single day, all he did was lecture as we took notes in our notebooks. I’m almost certain he was the only teacher at Hollywood Arts that taught exclusively through PowerPoint presentations, but nobody really cared. It was absolutely mindless work to copy words down for an hour. I won’t complain though -- it’s pretty easy… though incredibly boring.
While he stays on a slide for a long time, I mindlessly doodle stars in the margins. Sometimes I would catch Cat drawing hearts in her margins. I wonder if she started doing it after watching me doodle first. Copy Cat.
Just then, I realized that Cat wasn’t here today. I darted my eyes across the room to be sure I wasn’t missing her, but she definitely wasn’t in the room. I don’t know why, but I was worried so I sent her a text through my Pear phone.
“Where are you at??”
I was careful to not let the brightness of my screen give me away in the darkness. A few moments later, the phone buzzed on my leg.
“At the hospital, but I’m okay! My brother made me a sandwich for breakfast, but he put beads from my charm bracelet in the jelly… I can feel them in me when I do jumping jacks :)”
I let out a small sigh at her typical dopiness and simply responded with, “Never eat anything he gives you again.”
“Kay kay!”
I returned my phone to my bag and continued with the notetaking and doodling. When screenwriting class was nearly over, Mr. Gradstein started speaking with more projection so that the students who hadn’t been paying attention the entire time would look up. I broke my focus off of an inky, nautical star to listen to his closing remarks.
“Okay, there are only a few minutes left of class so everybody listen to your assignment instructions, please!” He waited for everyone to look in his direction. “In a moment, I want everyone in this room to partner up with someone else. You will be tasked to draft a 5 minute play that follows the 3 C’s we covered today.”
If I was being honest with myself, I had already forgotten what the 3 C’s were. Glancing back at my sprawled pages, I saw the words clear, concise, and creative .
“To make the assignment less broad, I also ask that you highlight food in some way in addition to following the 3 C’s. You can have your characters be food, a conflict over food, a plot completely revolved around food, or whatever else you can think of. This should be a fun exercise -- don’t overthink it too much. The script is due Monday, so make sure that you either meet up with your partner sometime over the weekend or email or text each other. You may pick your partners now and begin!”
I suddenly began to panic. Cat was the only friend I had in this class and now she wasn’t here. People paired up with each other quickly and I was running out of viable options. I felt stuck to my seat. I didn't want to make it obvious that I didn't have a partner yet. After scanning my eyes around the room one more time, I made eye contact with Ryder Daniels who also needed a partner.
Of course he's the only person left I thought. Nobody likes to work with Ryder because he has a reputation of always making his partner or group do all the hard work while he contributes nothing.
He walked over to the seat next to me and gave a beaming smile. "Looks like we're partners," he said, "I'd prefer to meet at my house to work on this assignment. I never email and I don't want to have to go anywhere. Cool?"
I wanted to give a clever retort but was intimidated by his status as a sophomore while I was only a freshman. And I could hardly refuse when he was my only choice.
"Yeah, that works,” I said just before the bell rang.
He wrote his address in my still-open notebook, winked, and said, "See you tomorrow," before he left the room.
Involuntarily, my heart gave one hard beat. I felt betrayed by myself for reacting to his charm at all and immediately scowled at myself as I picked up my belongings. The last sip of coffee had gone cold and lost its grounding effect. I threw it away on my way out.
Fridays are the best day of school. Aside from Mr. Gradstein , even the teachers don’t demand too much out of class as they also look forward to the weekend. My next few classes passed by quickly and led straight to lunch. I walked with no hurry to the food truck outside and ordered myself a Caesar salad before heading to the open table I typically sit at. With Cat.
Since Cat wasn’t here today, I was sitting by myself on the Asphalt Cafe. This was my first year at Hollywood Arts and school has only been in session for one month -- I haven’t exactly made a lot of friends in that time. Cat saw me sitting alone in the back of Mr. Gradstein ’s classroom, as I always do, on the first day of school. Rather than sitting anywhere else like a typical person would do, she sat right down next to me and asked for my name.
Immediately after we introduced ourselves, she went off on many conversational tangents that I couldn’t always follow. She talked about her summer, her brother -- who I had decided needed some serious help -- her love for rainbows, her Nona who lives in Venice, and something about Christmas Beef. For other people, I could see how Cat could be overwhelming and maybe too weird to be associated with. But I could tell that she was unapologetically and authentically herself. By only spending a few minutes with her, I already had a good idea on who Cat Valentine was -- a ditzy red-head with a kind heart, an affinity for the arts, and a playful, girly aesthetic.
At this point, she already knew so much more about herself than I knew about myself. I looked down, past my diminished salad, and judged the clothes I was wearing. Nothing that I wore suggested anything other than I shop at the same clothing centers as every other teenage girl in the state of California. I might as well have walked out of an H&M magazine. Even my hair was perfectly ordinary -- a dull brown with no flair, unlike Cat’s flaming locks. I was as bored with myself as I am in Mr. Gradstein ’s screenwriting class.
A direct touch broke my train of thought. I felt a hand grab my shoulder with a little squeeze as the person controlling it slid into the bench next to me. He allowed his hand to then brush down the side of my arm before returning it to his own side. The feeling of it sent a small, exciting tingle down my spine. I had not expected Ryder of all people to want to join me for lunch, not that there was much time left of it anyway.
He bent his arm over the mesh table and rested his head on his hand. I took notice of how close he was to me. Our thighs were lightly touching each other, and I could smell the musk of his cologne. I looked up to his face for only a moment before I felt that I should glance in another direction. For only that split second, his eyes bore into mine and made me feel overpowered. My heart beat slightly harder at his close proximity. He must have noticed that I felt intimidated from his gaze since he chuckled before asking:
“What’s a girl like you doing eating lunch by herself?” I kept my face turned towards his but looked at the food truck rather than directly in his eyes.
“Normally I eat with Cat, but she isn’t here today. I don’t mind eating alone,” I said, truthfully.
“Hmm, she’s the crazy redhead right?” I didn’t want to respond to that, but thankfully he just continued talking, “I’m kinda glad she wasn’t in class today since that means I get to be with you now,” he booped my nose and my cheeks went rouge. “I’m thinking afternoon tomorrow, cool with you?”
“Umm, yes, yeah. That sounds good,” I stammered.
He smiled, probably proud of himself for flustering me. Before standing up to leave my table, he squeezed my knee softly. I couldn’t help but to let in a small, sharp inhale -- no doubt loud enough for him to hear. I felt like jelly all of a sudden and wondered how he had affected me so. He just chucked again and walked away as everyone else too started heading to their next classes.
Suddenly, I was okay with having to work with Ryder for an assignment. Better yet, I was looking forward to it.