In With the A Crowd

SkyGirl5

SkyGirl5

Cadet
new fic... not much to say here except it was inspired by Never Been Kissed, which should be pretty obvious right off the bat :lol:




Title: In With the A Crowd
Summary: When Sydney Bristow receives the once-in-a-life-time opportunity to work on an undercover assignment back in High School she is foolishly hopeful that her past experiences would lend her the wisdom to succeed that time around. Sadly, she is very mistaken and ends up being utterly miserable. That is until she reveals her secret to a certain English teacher who just might admire her on more levels than one. [22]




22 Chapters + Epilogue
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Prologue
“Bristow! Bristow, get your ass in here!” editor in chief George Carlen shouted out of his office. It was just a few hours before The Herald went to press and his migraine was already beginning to set in. To make matters even worse, he had one reporter forced into early maternity leave and another laid up with a broken wrist an arm after a wayward jet skiing vacation. He was down to his last resorts and they were not looking pretty.

A moment later a mousey looking woman with her matte brown hair in a messy bun at the back of her head and glasses that took up half of her face skidded into his office. “Yes, Mr. Carlen?” Sydney Bristow asked, pushing her glasses further up on her nose.

“I need you on an assignment, Bristow,” he growled, regretting his decision before it was even made. This woman before him was really not what he had in mind but, sadly, she was all he had, so she would have to due.

“A-an as-assignment?!” she stammered. She was just a fact checker slash occasional editor and had never actually been given a real writing assignment before. Of course, she had always wanted one, as her dream profession was being a reporter extraordinaire, but since she was just twenty-four years old she was willing to work her way up to that position, as long as she did not have to work too long.

“Yes, an assignment – an undercover assignment. This is big stuff, Bristow, and you can’t screw it up!”

“Un-undercover?” she stammered, once again adjusting her glasses. Sydney’s mind reeled as to where she would be doing this undercover work. With the mob? No, too risky. With the government? No, too illegal. With a local business? No, too boring. Perhaps, she thought finally, it was with some sort of foreign war. Yes, yes that was a possibility, albeit a terrifying one.

“Yes,” Mr. Carlen continued, “At McMillan High School.”

Oh. High school. The other battle ground. “High school?” Sydney repeated, trying to make her voice sound as upbeat as possible. High school – yeah, that was just a blast the first time around. For Sydney, high school was…well, the seventh circle of hell was putting it mildly. But the second time around had to be better…right?

“Yes, on Monday morning you’ll be enrolling as a senior there. You’re young enough to pull that off, right?” Mr. Carlen asked. He knew that Sydney was not very far out of college, though it was difficult to tell her exact age, which was hidden beneath dark rimmed spectacles and thick bangs.

“Yes sir…what is my assignment there?” she asked, praying it had nothing to do with cheerleading or athletics, two of her weakest points.

“It’s up to you, but I expect you to make notes on potential subjects and submit them to me weekly, understood?” Mr. Carlen asked gruffly. Sydney nodded. “Good, now here, take this.” He held out a manila envelope, which Sydney took from his hands. “It contains all the information you’ll need. Have a nice first day,” he said, obviously mocking her. Then, he dismissed her from his office and Sydney hurried away quickly, nearly hyperventilating. What had she gotten herself into?
 
Teehee, love it! NBK was an awesome movie, I'm in!

You're really working the geek factor with the stammering and the glasses....I'm having Felicity flashbacks :lol:
 
ooooh! love it love it.... :woot:

watch NBK on tv last week- MV was soooo cute- he looks so young.... :love:

cant wait for more

xx
 
Chapter 1
McMillan High, population approximately one thousand students ranging from grades 9 through 12, towered three stories above her as she stood on the sidewalk, chewing her on her bottom lip. All around her students with backpacks slung over their shoulders were milling around, meeting up with friends and laughing, exchanging answers for last night’s homework assignment, or chatting about what happened over the weekend. They were all having fun (or as much fun as one could have at seven fifty in the morning while on the way to high school); all except Sydney, that was. She was terrified.

She was going back to high school. It should have been a simple assignment, of course. After all, she had done high school before; graduated with a 3.9 grade point average, in fact. And it would have been easy had high school actually been a nice time for her. Heck, even if it had been an alright time. But no, of course, for her it had to be utter torture. Every single day walking down the sidewalk towards a looming brick building was like walking the green mile towards the executioner’s chamber. She knew each and every moment inside those hallowed halls would be filled with snide remarks, teasing, and time spent with only her teachers, her only real friends in the whole school. So yes, she was very much anticipating her new assignment – anticipating its end.

It’s going to be fine, she tried to tell herself. True, her own high school experience at East Granite High had been one horrific nightmare, but now she was older and wiser. She could use her own experiences as a how not to, so to speak. As long as she did exactly opposite as she had done eight years earlier, everything would be fine…in theory, of course.


Taking one last deep breath, Sydney decided that some mental coaching would help her get through that terrifying moment when she set foot into McMillan High, her new “office” for an indefinite period of time. She told herself everything was going to be fine; she was going to take it one day at a time. Maybe she would even enjoy her experience there; maybe it would be good for her. After all, she was going back to a place that was once the bane of her existence. If it went well the second time around, some old, still bleeding wounds might just have been healed. And, if not, it would be a learning experience none the less.

With one final adjustment of her new glasses (slightly smaller than the old ones with silver frames instead of ebony), Sydney ascended the stairs leading into the school. There, she was met with something completely nonexistent during her own high school days: a security check point and metal detector. This was very surprising to her. Of course she had heard of such things in larger, inner city schools – it was practically a necessity there – but in the medium sized town of Nixon, Maryland? This seemed slightly unnecessary. Then, from the banks of her memory she recalled an incident two years prior at a neighboring school district where a boy brought three knives to school intending on doing some ill harm to classmates. With this in mind, she figured the school added it simply as a precaution.

After setting her backpack down on a table like the other students, Sydney passed through the metal detector thankfully without setting it off. She smiled politely at the security guard rummaging through her belongings, but he seemed to be ignoring her until he asked, “Where is your school ID?”

“Oh…this is my first day,” she told him politely.

“You need to go to the office,” he told her, pointing behind him. Sydney nodded and picked up her bag, thanking the man for his help. He said nothing, but merely scowled at her and watched her walk towards the office as though she was some sort of criminal. Slightly unnerved, Sydney pushed open the office door and waited patiently for the secretary to finish her phone conversation.


Fifteen minutes later as Sydney was exiting the school’s office, packet of information in hand, a bell rang over head and the students in the hallway began to scatter. Glancing down at the schedule she held, Sydney found that this was the warning bell, giving the students five minutes to get to homeroom, which began at ten minutes after eight. Pausing at a water fountain to find the map also given to her by the school’s secretary, Sydney quickly determined the quickest way to room 205, which held her homeroom and her first period English class. Smiling softly at this, Sydney hurried towards the nearest stairwell; if English (her favorite and best subject) was her first class of the day maybe this assignment was not going to be so bad after all.

While Sydney was attempting to hurry up the stairs she unfortunately tripped on one of her untied shoelaces, which resulted in her tumbling down a few stairs. In a crowded stairwell this was the absolute worst situation. Students immediately began tripping over her on their way up to the second and third floors, shouting out, “Freak,” and “loser” as they passed.

A few minutes later, once the bell signaling the start of homeroom rang, Sydney was able to stand up and brush herself off. Then, she continued her climb up the stairs, both ego and body slightly bruised.

When she arrived at room 205, not surprisingly all the students were already seated and facing the front of the classroom as roll was being called. So much for slipping in unexpectedly. Sighing, she grasped the door handle and pulled it open as quickly as possible, which emitted a loud squeak resulting in everyone looking her way. Immediately, the students in the classroom began whispering and talking about themselves, most likely discussing the new girl’s outfit which was nontraditional to say the least. Very loud plaid pants, a baggy white sweater and a gaudy beaded necklace with black men’s work boots was not the way to subtly begin one’s career at a new school. Sadly, Sydney was not entirely aware of this fact.

“May I help you?” the man standing at the front of the classroom asked.

“Yes I…” That was the last coherent word that came out of Sydney’s mouth, for when she turned her head sideways and caught a glimpse of the man speaking to her, her jaw hung slack. The sandy-haired stranger, who she could only presume was her new teacher, was just a few years older than herself. His brilliant green eyes shone with kindness and his smile made her knees wobble. He was dressed in a crisp light blue dress shirt with a dark tie – navy perhaps, maybe forest green; it was hard to tell – and khaki pants looking utterly perfect.

Without even realizing it, Sydney stood there for nearly a full minute looking progressively more and more like a mental patient as the whispers in the room grew to a loud hum. “Are you alright?” the teacher asked finally, noting her silence and peculiar expression.

“What? Um, yes,” she managed, her face growing dangerously hot. “I’m…new here…,” she gulped. Was it at all possible that she happened to be invisible at that moment? Nope? Damn.

“Oh right, I got an email about you,” the man said, walking over to his desk. After rummaging through a few stacks of papers he pulled one out with an, “Ah ha! Sydney, right?” She merely nodded. “Alright then Sydney why don’t you have a seat right there in the middle. I’m Mr. Vaughn, by the way.”

Sydney mumbled something incoherent under her breath before scurrying over to the vacant seat in the middle of the classroom. There, she sunk down into the oh-so-uncomfortable hard plastic chairs until her nose was barely visible above the desk, wishing she had an invisibility cloak stashed in her backpack. If the first two minutes were any indication, it was going to be a very long semester.
 
Aww poor Syd, she needs to get the fashion update. I would love it if I had Vaughn for a teacher though, probably wouldn't learn much, but I would get to stare at him for the class.
Great update
 
im wicked excited about this one!!! cuz i love never been kissed!!!
awesome start! poor syd
loved it
cant wait for more!
invisibility cloak yay!!
i wish i had one of those to for incredibly awkward moments!!
 
I love NBK so I'm sure I'll love this fic just as much!!!!!!!!! (as well as ALL your fics) :smiley:

What does the title mean? I don't understand it :thinking:
 
I am so glad that you picked this fic!!

Never Been Kissed is one of my favs!!

And of course, recreating it with Sydney as the girl is perfect!!

Now when I watch the movie, I will want Jennifer Garner!! Or maybe I just want Alias back!!

Could be both!!!
 
cookiemonster said:
I love NBK so I'm sure I'll love this fic just as much!!!!!!!!! (as well as ALL your fics) :smiley:

What does the title mean? I don't understand it :thinking:
Click to expand...
the "a crowd" is slang i guess for popular people
kinda like the A-squad or the A-team or A-list is like the first/best/popular team
where as if you were on the D-list it means...well you suck basically
 
Chapter 2
Since homeroom was only eight minutes long, giving just enough time to take roll and read any important announcements if necessary, Sydney barely shrank down into her seat when yet another bell rang. Luckily, she did not have to try and fight her way out of the classroom with her new sneering classmates. It was bad enough she had to face another new set of them in just a minute.

When Michael Vaughn noticed the only remaining occupant of his classroom was his very fish-out-of-water looking new student, he approached her with concern. “Um, do you need help finding your way to your next class?”

“Oh no,” she said quickly, barely gazing up at him, “I have English in here next…”

“Oh,” he laughed, “my apologies then.”

Sydney managed to give him a half smile before pulling a blank notebook out of her backpack and trying to look busy. Luckily, her plan worked, and Mr. Vaughn returned to his desk. Sighing with relief, Sydney tried to burry her nose into the notebook resting on her arm, hoping it might absorb her and save her future humiliation.

Of course her English teacher had to be the single most gorgeous man she had ever seen in her entire life. She could not get an old lady with purple tinted hair and Coke bottle glasses; no, oh no, she had to the teacher who looked like he had been ripped off the cover of a grocery store romance novel, except wearing more clothes. Then again, the only bright side to this was even if the class became a little dull re-learning things she already knew, she could always pass the time by simply looking at him.


After just another minutes, sleepy looking students began filing slowly into the classroom and taking their assigned seats. Sydney hardly noticed this since she was reviewing her new schedule once more. Only when someone tapped her shoulder did she look up. “Excuse me, this is my seat,” a girl with platinum blonde hair and a fashionable eggplant colored shirt said in a snippy tone.

“Oh I’m sorry,” Sydney mumbled. She dumped her notebook and schedule back into her backpack and stood quickly, nearly tripping in her haste to exit the seat.

“Freak,” Eggplant-shirt muttered as Sydney escaped the desk. The two girls surrounding her, presumably her friends, shrieked with laughter at this comment; Sydney ignored it.

“There’s a free seat right there, Sydney,” Mr. Vaughn told her, pointing to a chair towards one side of the front row. She mumbled a thank you and shuffled her way towards it before collapsing, still praying for invisibility. Sadly, it would never come.


“Now, class, before we get back to our discussion on Hamlet, I’d like you all to meet a new student. This is Sydney and she’s joining us from…where is it?” he asked her.

“Um…,” she stammered, trying to think up a lie on the fly. “Alaska, you’ve never heard of it,” she mumbled, immediately cursing herself the moment the words left her lips. Yeah, Alaska, that was normal.

“Alaska? Really? That must have been fascinating. Did you grow up there?” he asked politely.

Sydney shook her head silently while trying to think of a fix for her prior statement. “No, we, um, moved a lot… ‘cause of my dad’s job.” There, much better; plausible yet vague.

“Oh I see. Well, welcome to McMillan then. I’m sure you’ll like it here; we’re very friendly,” he smiled.

“Not to freaks,” Eggplant shirt muttered. Her cronies giggled immediately and Sydney sighed. She did not even have to be introduce to Ms. Eggplant shirt, she already knew exactly who she was; the most popular girl in school, or one of them anyway.

“Thank you, Susan, for volunteering to read your homework assignment first,” Michael smiled at her. As Susan gave sounds of obvious protest, Sydney couldn’t help but smile; it was always fun when stupid people were put on the spot.


While her English class could have gone worse – much worse – she could not say the same for the rest of her first day of school. In each of her classes she was met with more “freak” insults than she could count, and she did not receive one friendly smile all day long. At lunchtime, Sydney sat all by herself at a circular table in one corner of the cafeteria. Luckily, she had packed her lunch so she did not have to deal with disgusting school food or the less-than-cordial students in line around her. Sitting at that table, munching on raw carrot sticks, Sydney had flashback after flashback to her own high school days of sitting in a similar position. At least that day no one was throwing food at her, she thought positively.

By far her worst class of the day was gym. It was bad enough she had to take that class at all (sadly it was a requirement for her student façade), but taking it with a class full of boys and girls was utterly dreadful. First, there was the mocking of underwear as she changed, which Sydney knew was merely out of force of habit (there was nothing wrong with her panties, she knew this – they were from Victoria’s Secret!). Then, during mat-ball, she was pelted in the face with one of those retched foam balls, sending her glasses askew and all the males in the class howling with laughter. Finally, to add insult to injury, after she tripped over a shoelace and stepped aside to retie it, a cruel classmate kicked a foam ball at her, nailing her squarely in the back of the head. Since it was a foam ball, it did not harm her physically, though her pride was significantly bruised.

By the time Sydney was shuffling to her new locker at the end of the day, she was ready to quit her job at The Herald just to escape the humiliation of another day of high school. As she did the combination to her locker over and over aging, with each attempt another one of her books dropping to the floor, she did not notice Mr. Vaughn approaching from behind her. “Need some help?” he asked as he picked up her copy of Hamlet.

“OH…no, I’m okay,” she grunted as she tugged on her locker’s latch after yet another failed attempt.

“Are you sure?” he asked. She gave him a rather helpless look and passed the piece of paper holding her combination into his outstretched palm. He opened her locker on the first try and gave the combination back to her.

“Thank you,” she said genuinely.

“First days’ area always rough; it’ll get better I promise,” he smiled at her.

“Thanks,” she managed once more before burying her face into her locker, knowing it was pink if not a deeper shade of crimson. Standing there as students bumped into her on their way home, she could only pray that he had been right.
 
Since not many people are reviewing ( :angry: ) I decided to give you some nice quotes :smiley:

she could always pass the time by simply looking at him.
Click to expand...

I know for sure that's what I'd be doing :lol: believe me!!!!!!!!!!!

“Thank you, Susan, for volunteering to read your homework assignment first,” Michael smiled at her. As Susan gave sounds of obvious protest, Sydney couldn’t help but smile; it was always fun when stupid people were put on the spot.
Click to expand...

Suits the b***** just fine!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! :angry: They don't even know who Sydney is, why aren't they just giving her a chance???? I mean, the girl hasn't spoken a word yet and they are already all judging her.... *sigh*

By far her worst class of the day was gym. It was bad enough she had to take that class at all (sadly it was a requirement for her student façade), but taking it with a class full of boys and girls was utterly dreadful. First, there was the mocking of underwear as she changed, which Sydney knew was merely out of force of habit (there was nothing wrong with her panties, she knew this – they were from Victoria’s Secret!). Then, during mat-ball, she was pelted in the face with one of those retched foam balls, sending her glasses askew and all the males in the class howling with laughter. Finally, to add insult to injury, after she tripped over a shoelace and stepped aside to retie it, a cruel classmate kicked a foam ball at her, nailing her squarely in the back of the head. Since it was a foam ball, it did not harm her physically, though her pride was significantly bruised.
Click to expand...

They are mean mean mean.... the only reason Sydney should stay is because of Mister V. :love: I we all know that she will stay and how it's going to end... but that's ok ;) hehe...

She gave him a rather helpless look and passed the piece of paper holding her combination into his outstretched palm. He opened her locker on the first try and gave the combination back to her.

“Thank you,” she said genuinely.
Click to expand...

:love: Well not very romantic... but it's a good start :rolleyes:


I'm sure that even though this is like NBK, Janet surely also put a few of her own twists in there ;)
 
Sydney needs to tie her shoelaces tighter, it's the second time she's fallen. :P

All I can say is wow... is High School really like that over there?
 
Chapter 3
Unfortunately for Sydney, things did not get much better in her very first week at McMillan High. She thought that maybe since it was just the beginning of the school year for everyone, cliques had not been created in an iron-clad fashion yet and she could at least get in with one of the groups. Sadly, this was not the case. She failed to realize that while it was the beginning of another school year, for the most part these students had been together for the previous twelve years. If anything was universal about high schools around the country it was the fact that once a clique was formed, it rarely, if ever, changed.

For the most part, Sydney’s misery stemmed from the fact that her new name seemed to have become “Freak.” This was an insult Sydney was essentially immune to, having heard it many a time in her own high school career. It was merely the fact that people seemed unwilling to bother to know her real name that irked her. They never even introduced themselves or asked her name, even when she smiled politely to them. It was always just, “Oh great, I have to sit next to the new freak,” or “Great, I have to share my book with the freak.” That attitude was going to get old very quickly.

In addition to the failed attempts to find any friends at McMillan, Sydney was struggling to get the hang of her new class schedule. Aside from English class, which was quickly becoming her favorite and easiest class, and gym, Sydney’s schedule consisted of US Government, Sociology, Pre-Calculus, and, thankfully, a study hall. Math, which was never her strong suit, was turning out to be her worst class by far. She had Pre-Calculus during her own high school days, but, apparently, had forgotten everything in her six year absence from that academic genre. It was slowly (and painfully) coming back to her, but it was still going to be a struggle. Luckily, her other classes were going fairly well, all things considered, and she hoped that in time the social aspect of her time at McMillan would improve as well.

~*~

“Good news guys, over the weekend I graded your Hamlet essays,” Mr. Vaughn smiled out at his class waving a stack of papers in his hands. Immediately, all the students groaned. “Oh they weren’t that bad guys,” he laughed.

“God, Mr. Vaughn, don’t you have anything better to do that grade our stuff? I mean, we just handed them in on Friday?” Susan asked.

“Gee, Susan, would you be implying that I, your English teacher – the man who gives you your final grade – have no life?” he asked. Susan said nothing. “I didn’t think so,” he laughing, “although you have a point; I don’t really have a life.”

“You should have a girlfriend,” another girl told him with a smile.

“Thanks, I’m aware of that,” he grumbled slightly. Then, he began handing back the assignments to the appropriate student. When he came to Sydney, he smiled at her and said, “Excellent job, Sydney,” while handing over her paper.

Sydney took the assignment with a hopeful expression. When she turned over the paper and saw a messy 100 written in red ink at the top she sighed with relief. That paper was her very first grade after just a week of school and since it was so high, it really helped her already failing spirits. As long as she could succeed academically, her time at McMillan would not be nearly as bad. Then again, at this idea, another more sickening one entered her mind.

Her time at McMillan was not simply playtime; it was an assignment. She was there to write an article on something – she did not know what yet – and it needed to be perfect, amazing. Mr. Carlen trusted her with it and was expecting her to do her best. She needed to do her best, too, to prove she was a worthy reported. She had no doubt in her writing ability, as her hundred percent proved moments earlier, the only problem was coming up with the subject mater to write on. That was going to be the absolute hardest part, even harder than eating another lunch all alone in the cafeteria.


As Sydney was making her way out of Mr. Vaughn’s classroom that day after class, she was surprised to hear him call out her name. Usually, students were only asked to stay after class to discuss a poor grade or missing assignment, of which she had neither. Another possibility would be talking during class or doing something else disruptive, which, again, she had not been doing.

“Is there something wrong?” Sydney asked.

“No, no, nothing’s wrong… I was just wondering how your first week has been,” he said to her.

For a moment, Sydney just stared at him. How was she to answer that? Truthfully and admit she had never been more miserable in her life. Well, that wasn’t true – her original experience had been a bit more miserable. Or, was she to lie and tell him everything was just swell except for the fact that she had no friends, ate lunch alone every, and tripped down the stairs no less than twice each day.

“Oh it’s um…you know, fine,” she mumbled evasively.

“I hope it is going fine, but you know it’s always nice to get into a club of some sort – it really helps you find some friends,” he said to her. “Your Hamlet paper was excellent - really excellent - and I was hoping that you might want to join our newspaper.”

“NO!” Sydney said quickly, a bit more forcefully than she should have. There was no way she could join the McMillan newspaper, even if that was her favorite part of her own high school experience. If she joined that newspaper it would be hard to stop herself from phasing back in to the newspaper girl she was born and educated to be. That would surely blow her cover and it was a risk she could not take.

Realizing that Mr. Vaughn was looking rather horrified, Sydney attempted to backtrack her harsh outburst with a rational explanation. “I mean…no, thank you. It’s a great offer but…well, I just moved here and I’m still trying to settle in, you know? I mean, I still have…boxes to unpack and stuff,” she added trying to keep with her ‘just moved to town’ façade.

“I totally understand; moving is hard,” he told her gently. “You take all the time you need settling in, but the newspaper would always welcome your help. Maybe you can reconsider it next semester.”

“I definitely will,” she promised him. While working on the newspaper would have been a blast, Sydney was honestly hoping her assignment was over long before Christmas. If it wasn’t…well, she was not going to be very happy.

“Well I’d, uh, better get to class,” she said, gesturing towards the doorway.

“Of course,” he smiled. “See you tomorrow Sydney.”

“Bye,” she waved, while walking backwards trying to get out of the room. Of course, in doing this, she tripped over a trashcan and nearly fell, but managed to get a hold of herself and run out of the classroom before she had a chance to hear Mr. Vaughn’s laughter.
 
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