School was never Catherine "Catty" Wilde's strong suit... Except for English, Lit and History. She didn't like being told how and what to exercise, didn't understand (and honestly? Downright hated) Algebra, was never a big fan of Science... And although she was very popular (was it her family's wealth? Weren't people listening when she said she was disowned because of her sexual preference?), Social Science sucked rotten eggs.<br/><br/>The dirty blonde haired girl, with emerald green eyes, accepted by the family of her best friend (who's last name she accepted as hers) looked warily at the teacher, yet in a flirtatious way, until a ruler landed on her head with a<i>THWACK</i>!<br/><br/>"Catty... Stop being a perv... Except when looking at<i>me</i>!" head cheerleader Addison Wilde whispered. "And remember what Pop said about talking about yourself. Just the last five years since you became a Wilde."<br/><br/>Catty winced, one eye closed,  as she rubbed the spot where the plastic tool with the holes in the center, had come down on top of her head. She glanced back at the redhead with piercing, seemingly violet, eyes. "I remember. Did you have to crack me so hard?"<br/><br/>She thought about the last five years, making a quick outline. She frowned. Leaving out why she was a Wilde was going to leave too many questions, she feared, as she visibly began to tremble and sweat.<br/><br/>Addison groaned. "Now what's the matter, Catty?"