"A little higher on the right," I say, squinting my eyes and pursing my lips in deep concentration. It really should not take this long to hang up a damn poster. We've been at this for almost ten minutes and Andy Warhol's Marilyn is still crooked.

Move-in day at Hilton Prep is always a shit-show. Since we're seniors this year, we get to live on the fourth floor of the dormitory. The top floor comes with great perks such as bigger rooms, awesome views, and a giant student rec center that's only for seniors. The biggest downside is that it's virtually impossible to sneak out at night without being caught by the staff. I'm sure Maxine will try and rope me into testing Hilton Prep's security systems. I'll have to play along because there's no way I'm telling her I've been bestowed the ultimate pass.

"My right? Or your right?" Maxine asks, lifting herself on her tippy-toes, her foot awfully close to the edge of the desk.

I let out an exhausted sigh. "We are facing the same direction, Max! My right is your right!"

"Oh..." Max snorts and almost loses her balance. "Right!"

I slap my hand over my face, peeking at her wobbling stance through my fingers. I'd like to blame Max's current hazy mental processing skills on the fact that she's recently discovered the wonders of edibles, but my best friend has had the personality of a stoner long before actual weed came into her life. But I think it's good, the weed helps her chill out, otherwise, she'd be bouncing against the walls.

"You know what? Just leave it like that, it's fine. It's...abstract." I would suggest that we switch positions but then the poster would definitely be crooked, well, maybe not to Maxine, seeing as she's always standing at an angle these days.

Maxine inserts the thumbtack into the wall and turns around, dusting her hands, a proud smile on her face. "I think it looks dope!" She hops off the desk like a graceful yet tipsy gazelle. "Should we hang the other ones up too?"

My eyes widen in pure horror. That was enough torture for one day. "No! I can do those later myself." I walk over to Max and flip the unironed white collar of her school uniform right side out. "I think we need to get down to the quad. You volunteered us to give campus tours to the newbies, remember?"

Maxine scrunches up her face, her thick black bangs falling over her eyes. "I did?"

I shake my head and let out an exasperated chuckle. "Sweetie, you have got to stop eating those gummies! Your brain is going to melt by midterms." I pause. "Plus, you should spend your money on more important things, like jewelry or..." I look down at her feet. "More Converse."

"My parents upped my allowance this year so money's not a problem." Max waves me off. "Plus, Sawyer gives me a pretty decent discount anyway."

My gut clenches at the sound of my ex-boyfriend's name. "You're getting your edibles from Sawyer?! Since when does he sell drugs? He's the captain of the football team for God's sake- they test for that shit like every week."

"Crap! I wasn't supposed to tell you that!" Maxine presses her lips into a thin line, her apologetic deep-brown eyes staring up at me.

"Too late now! Spill."

Maxine sighs. "Okay, so apparently, Sawyer and a couple of guys on the team started making their own gummies this summer. Like a summer project, if you will. And to be honest, it's pretty good shit."

"Sawyer is making edibles? The same Sawyer that barely passed chemistry last year?"

I am mind-blown right now. What a fucking idiot. People sell drugs to earn money so why in the world would the son of Malcolm Redford, one of New England's most prominent lawyers, need to sell drugs?

"It's not just him. I think Zeek's the real brain behind the operation. Sawyer's just along for the ride."

"Ezekial? The running back?" I ask, shocked by all this juicy gossip. I guess spending two months away from the city has left me way out of the loop. Although, I don't think I would've survived an entire summer in New York, constantly worrying about bumping into Sawyer. Based on his Snap stories, he didn't end up going away for the summer, not that I was creeping or anything.

"Yeah, I heard from Olive that Zeek's dad went bankrupt and they could barely afford to pay this year's tuition. Apparently, his dad had to take out a loan from the bank."

"Oh my God! A bank loan? That's horrifying. Is he okay? He must be so upset. Is he going to be able to afford our senior trip? He can't miss that!"

Maxine shrugs. "I think so? I saw him moving in his shit earlier so I guess he came up with the money. I think he's just glad he doesn't have to go to a public school and live with his parents all year."

I tilt my head. "I think we're all glad we don't have to live with our parents." Or stepparents.

Max rolls her eyes. "Speak for yourself, I happen to like my mom and dad. Plus, Connecticut is so lame. There's like nothing to do here."

She's been saying the same thing for three years and yet she still comes back to Hilton, even though I'm sure her parents would let her go to a public school in New York if she asked.

"You like your parents because they let you do whatever you want. They're not even forcing you to apply for college."

Not that Maxine needs to go to college. Her family won the Powerball lottery ten years ago and they've been living like royalty ever since. Unfortunately, those of us that come from old money have to live up to certain expectations- like getting into Harvard. But I'm confident I'll get early admission seeing as both my parents are legacies and donate a shit-ton of money to the university.

"Sorry that my parents are cooler than yours," she sings while fixing her neon yellow thigh-high stockings which are not standard issued school uniform.

"You know you're going to get written up for wearing those, right?"

"Oh no, an hour of detention, how will I survive?" Maxine feigns crying.

I roll my eyes. "It's only the first day and you're already breaking dress code. What else is new?"

Maxine pouts, trying to be cute. "But you love me regardless, right?"

"Of course I do!" I swing my arms around my petite and ballsy friend. "But that doesn't mean I won't write you up."

Max pinches my side and I jump back yelping. "Please don't tell me you're a goddamn Hall Monitor this year! Kenny, that's so lame!" Max whines, shaking her head feverishly.

I cross my arms. "I'm not a Hall Monitor, I'm a Student Liaison Officer."

"Dude, that's just a fancy word for Hall Monitor," Max scoffs. "Why would you do this to yourself? This is like social suicide!"

Always so dramatic! "Because it's going to look fucking amazing on my application to Harvard, okay? Also, bear in mind that if I'm the SLO for our class, you can sneak out whenever you want and I can cover for you. If someone else was the SLO, they'd totally report you." I look at her smugly, seeing the rusty gears in her mind turning.

"Oh shit!" Max laughs, slapping my shoulder. "This is dope! I'm basically safe all year!"

"Mmm..." I squint at her. "Well, actually..."

"What? Are you seriously going to write me up? I'm your friend!" Max frowns, pretending to wipe a tear from under her eye. "Your best friend!"

"I have to be fair to the other students Max, but don't worry, I'll be very lenient with you. Like one ticket a week."

SLO's can only issue tickets for misdemeanor infractions which usually just result in detention or kitchen duty which aren't a big deal. Every student at some point has gotten one, besides me, obviously. According to our school's policy manual, the big no-nos that people really need to avoid are the Big Five: possession of a weapon, drug/alcohol use on campus, physical/ sexual assault, and excessive bullying. I guess normal bullying is fine, we just can't be too mean. Personally, I think that's far too subjective to be a concrete rule but whatever, I'm not the Headmaster.

"One a week?!" she exclaims.

I tilt my head to the side. "Max, you were getting like three a week last year, so don't at me right now." Max opens her mouth but I cut her off. "Plus! You've been talking to Sawyer behind my back all summer apparently, which is like breaking all our BFF rules. But am I mad? No, I'm not. You know why? Because I don't care. And I'm over it."

Max blinks at me, cocking up an eyebrow. "The fact that you keep saying you're over it, kinda means you're not."

"I am!" I insist, crossing my arms. "Sawyer who?"

"Ken, you're allowed to be pissed off at him. The guy dumped you for no reason after two years of dating. It's okay not to be okay." Oh my God, she sounds like a mental health slogan.

"I'm sure he had a reason; otherwise, why would he do it?" I ask quietly.

Junior Prom was supposed to be a magical night, and it was, until...it wasn't. I didn't think that night would end with me crying alone on the bathroom floor of the hotel, staring at a key card for a room that I said I wasn't ready for. You're worth the wait, he used to tell me. Bull-fucking-shit.

"Because he's a fucking idiot, Ken and you can do better than him anyway." Max gives me a hug. "It's his loss, not yours."

"Yeah," I say softly. "But we had plans. We were going to be the queen and king of Harvard. We were both going to run for Senate, change the world."

"Kenny, dude. You're seventeen, enjoy it while it lasts. You can worry about world domination when you graduate." Max grabs the pair of sunglasses atop her head and puts them on. "Until then, go slap on some lipgloss, and let's jet."

I shake my head, trying to reboot my mood. "You're right, I know you're right," I say under my breath and head to my vanity. Grabbing my favorite blush pink gloss by Anastasia Beverly Hills, I apply it carefully to my lips before popping a tablet into my mouth, hoping that it'll get me through the day. Dang, I'm running low. "Okay, I'm ready. Let's go whip some freshmen into shape!"

Maxine loops her arm through mine as we make our way through the hordes of students and down to the quad. The fact that Maxine doesn't remember signing us up for volunteer duty doesn't shock me, she was pretty lit when Headmaster Rothland asked her during finals last semester. Someone thought it would be a good idea to celebrate finishing Junior Year with a bottle of Grey Goose, too bad the girl forgot she had one more test in the afternoon. Needless to say, her History essay looked like it was written by a toddler.

We exit the front doors of the dorms just as Mr. Rothland is coming inside. Speak of the devil. Mr. Rothland is sporting his usual dark grey suit and sour expression, two things you'll never see the man without.

"Miss Carmichael, Miss Chen, welcome back. I take it your summer vacations were thrilling?" he says, stopping us at the top of the stairs. He looks down at Max. "But hopefully not too thrilling, right Miss Chen?"

Max snorts. "It was just fantabulous, Rothy. I went to Egypt with my folks. Saw some pyramids, got spat on by a camel. It was dope."

The Headmaster pinches the bridge of his nose. "Miss Chen, do you remember when we talked about nicknames and respect?"

I close my eyes, second hand embarrassed. She's literally crazy! Like, Oh my God, I could never!

Max rolls her eyes. "Sorry, Mr. Rothland," she mutters.

"Since it's not yet 9 am, I'll let it slide just this once," he states, scanning our faces. "Miss Carmichael, congratulations on your new position as Student Liaison Officer, well deserved."

I beam. "Thank you, Mr. Rothland! I promise I will uphold the integrity of all the SLOs before me."

"Suck-up," Max whispers under her breath and I give her elbow a tight squeeze.

"I expect nothing less from Daniel Carmichael's daughter."

I fake a smile. "Of course." God forbid my accolades are a result of my own intelligence and grit rather than my DNA.

"Well, have a good day, girls." Rothland raises a bushy eyebrow as he leers at my best friend. "Stay out of trouble?"

Maxine's whole body tenses as she jumps up and salutes him. "Aye Aye, Captain."

I giggle through my nervousness. She's going to be the death of me, I swear. "Goodbye!" I exclaim and drag Max down the stairs. "What was that?!"

Max sucks on her teeth, flapping a hand at me while staring out into the quad. "Chill Ken, it's fine! I'm just being me!"

"And as much as I love you, I don't think that Rothland appreciates your...quirkiness."

"Rothland can suck my dick," Max says casually, looking around the quad. "My parents paid thousands of dollars for me to be here. I should be able to call him whatever I want."

My gaze flickers around us. "You have got to keep your voice down! There are teachers everywhere!"

Maxine suddenly stops looking around, her mouth gaping open. She lowers her sunglasses. "Hot damn..."

I follow her sightline. Trudging up the sidewalk, motorcycle in tow is probably one of the most disheveled boys I've ever seen. Oh my God, why is his face dirty? His black skinny jeans and leather jacket tattered, a few holes on his legs exposing his skin, his shaggy brown hair hanging over his face.

"Ew," I murmur.

Maxine turns her flabbergasted head at me. "Did you just say...ew? To that?!" She shakes her head. "Kenny...he's like...a God."

I scoff, giving him another once-over. "Yeah, like the God of Filth. Who dresses like that?"

"Uh- hot people?"

"Maxine, he has holes in his clothing. He must be impoverished. You shouldn't gawk at him. It's rude," I say, turning around and looking the other direction.

"Oh my God!" Max exclaims. "He's coming this way!"

I whip my head around. Dirty-boy has now veered off the sidewalk and is pushing his motorcycle through the freshly cut grass of the quad. "Do you think he's lost?" I ask, completely taken aback.

"I'll go find out," Max says with a sultry edge.

I hold out my arm. "You stay here! I'll deal with it. I don't need you going and falling in love with...whatever he is."

"Oh, come on!" Max whines.

"No!" I shoot her a glare. "This will be my first act as an SLO." I flip my hair and straighten out my shoulders. "Wish me luck."

Max rolls her eyes and leans against the railing, crossing her arms. "I hate you."

I wave her off. "Shut up. I'll be back in a minute."

_________________

Our girl Ken-Ken has arrived!

I imagine her as the love child of Blair Waldorf and Rory Gilmore LOL

THOUGHTS?

Kenny looking at dirty-boy like: