Katherine McDaniels is upset.

This is not an infrequent event.

The current object of her wrath is an idiotic professor who just informed her that there is no more room in STD 101, and no, she can't kick someone out just because Katherine wants her to.

Obviously, the professor is uninformed.

Katherine decides to inform her.

"You are aware that my father made the sizeable donation that bought the building in which you are sitting?"

No, the lady, apparently, remains to be uninformed.

Katherine informs her further, using a not-so-flowery speech laced with threats.

Several minutes later, she emerges from the teacher's office--smiling in victory as she clutches her admissions slip to STD 101.

Whatever Kitty wants...

Well, you can finish that sentence, I'm sure.

She heads down the hallway towards the student lounge, her glossed lips set in a scowl as she surveys what Keaton apparently has to offer.

As far as she's seen, it's not anything worth her time.

God. Transferring here might have been a baaaad idea. This place was teeming with...with...stupid peons.

Speaking of stupid Peons, Katherine...meet Keye. He spent the last couple of days moping over his (ex) girlfriend, and has gotten a little behind in English. He is now walking, looking rather lurching and ungainly with his too-long legs because he's got a book in his hand and his nose stuck in it, and neither of these things are contributing to his already lacking grace.
One hand holds the book, and the other has a helpful index finger following under the line. His mouth moves, slowly and silently pronouncing the words. His brow is furrowed deeply in thought.
And, of course (surely you expected it) he walks directly into Katherine. Life likes to put him on collision courses.

Katherine saw him coming. She did. But, Katherine also thinks she's rather important, and was waiting for him to change courses.

She doesn't move for anyone.

Katherine's books fly out of her hands, and make a loud clattering noise on the ground.

Her gray eyes harden into steel. She raises a brow, and places her hands on her slim hips. She's wearing a pair of low-slung jeans, a white button down shirt, and a low sweater vest that subtly displays her...uhm...assets. Her black hair is pulled back in a sleek, neat ponytail.

She's the very vision of loveliness, well, except for that expression of pure rage on her face.

"Watch where you're going, you useless peon."

She likes the word peon. SHe feels it describes how everyone else is in comparasion to her.

She's also waiting for him to pick up her books.

A dainty loafer taps impatiently.

"Whoops."
It's a nice voice, unassuming and mellow. A stark contrast to hers, don't you think?
"Sorry 'bout that," and he's on the ground gathering things before the word 'watch' has even left her mouth.
He stands up, holding her books out to her, a rather confused turn to his mouth.
"Peon?"
He doesn't know what that means, see. 'Useless' suggests that it's unflattering (what does Alexander call that? 'Context'?), but Keye hasn't comprehended enough to be upset or offended yet.

"Peon. Definition--a menial, unimportant worker with no special privileges or skills. Peon."

She speaks slowly, like she's speaking to an idiot.

Well, actually, she doesn't hate him as much as she did several seconds ago.

He picked up her books quickly. That was a good, smart move.

She almost smiles.

That sounded...about right.
"Fair 'nough. Not useless, though. If you didn't have peons, you'd have to get your hands dirty, wouldn't you?"
And he thought, It would be so cool if she met Jetta and they...ate each other or something.

Oh. He brought up a good point.

Kitty blinked, no doubt calling loads of attention to how sooty and black and long her eyelashes were and tossed her mane of inky hair. A meat-head jock walking by crashed into a trashcan.

She ignored this and kept focused on the clumsy clod. She shrugged as if to say "Got me there". "I'm hungry. Where can I get food that isn't swimming in grease and sodium?"

Those eyelashes just go on for days, eh? Keye is not immune. He is, however, a little more immune than the unfortunate meathead to the left, and is thus able to chortle at the jock-type's pain and humiliation (he isn't fond of them). Completely confident in doing it too--despite that he looks like a malnourished scarecrow and is a math-nerd, he could hold his own should the boy take offense.
In the meantime, Kitty is asking a question.
A hard question.
And one that he feels compelled to actually think about, because he's feeling charitable. because she took his comment rather well. Jetta, at that point, probably would have slapped him.
"Umm...you know, that's a toughie. I mean, there's Monroe's, but...well, no, that's all grease and sodium too. It's good though. I mean...I...kinda...don't eat out much. At least not the classy joints. Sorry."

Kitty exhales heavily, in annoyance, and sends a stray piece of hair flying.

"God. It's not even like it's a hard question either. I'm hungry." She nearly whines the last word, looking down at the gazillion dollar gold and diamond Rolex on her wrist.

Really, it's not even that life or death. She'll probably just throw it up afterwards anyway. Food makes her sick, but she likes eating it.

"Carry my books. I'm tired."

Nope. Not a question. Not even a command. Just a statemen.

Katherine, the princess of the world, is tired, and she does not wish to carry her heavy books any longer.

It is only logical that he take them from her.

Duh.

"Holy shit." he says softly to himself. "That is a fucking watch."
Yes, he is slow on the uptake. He has only just realized that the girl has tons of money, which would explain her readiness to use the word 'peon' and her...expectations.
Speaking of which...he stared at the books like they came from outer space, waving his hands in the air, refusal.
"Uh...sorry, but pretty girls have to at least act nice before I'll be a doormat."

Kitty blinks again, obviously stunned.

With her attitude, you'd think she's be mad that he refused to carry her books. Nope.

He called her pretty. Pretty. Flowered wallpaper was pretty. Sunsets were pretty. Teacups were pretty.

Katherine McDaniels was beautiful. Gorgeous. Flawless. Every males' wet dream come to life.

He thought she was merely pretty?!

Besides being obviously stupid and...peon-ish, Keaton students also appeared to be blind.

She would have to ask Daddy about perhaps setting up a free optomitrist booth so these poor kids would be able to see properly. It wasn't safe to have a bunch of blind students walking around. Kitty whipped out her Blackberry and recorded the thought in her list of things to do today.

Then, she looked at the boy again. She almost feels bad for the poor, blind boy. Almost being the key word.

"Well, I'll let you eat with me if you carry my books."

There! What a privilege! Lucky boy!

Keye is actually blind in one eye, and it does terrible things to his depth perception. It's hard to tell, because he is wearing sunglasses (which I forgot to mention earlier).

Hmmm.
Go to lunch with pretty-but-rude girl in return for small favor of carrying books. Keye rolls the proposition over in his mind a few times, then tilts his head and asks, "Are you buying?"

"Heavens, no."

Notice she doesn't curse. Well-bred girls never curse. It's been bred into them...well.

Hm.

Moving on.

"Do I look like I carry cash around on me?"

She twirls once, letting him notice that her clothes are quite tight and show no signs of bills being stuffed in her pockets. Her purse is in the car outside.

Kitty hands him all of her things, and turns to smile at a rather attractive boy walking by.

"Hi. Want to buy me lunch?" She smiles, and the sun shines a little bit brighter.

Obviously, he salivates and nods, pulling out his wallet and beginning to rattle of names of restaurants.

Kitty rolls her eyes, snatches the wallet, extricates a twenty, and blows the stammering boy a kiss. "Thanks so much. Have a lovely day."

She then walks down the hall towards the doors, expecting her new pet to be right behind her.

You see, she only asked him if he wanted to *buy* her lunch, not eat lunch *with* her.

Keye's mouth is gaping.
She's evil!
Well...actually...she's not evil like Jetta is. She's not so horrible that she makes him dizzy and nauseous (like Jetta does)...but she's pretty nasty.
"You don't look like the type who can eat lunch on twenty bucks!" he shouts.

He shouts because she's far away now. She's left him behind. He is still standing exactly where he was before, holding her books, what can only be described as a shit-eating grin on his face.
"You struck me as the thirty-dollar-salad type!"

Kitty does not yell back.

It's unladylike.

Instead, she waits patiently, one loafered foot tapping softly.

She has to wait patiently. He has all her stuff in his arms.

While thirty dollar salads are good, Kat is assuming that in order to find a restaurant suiting her regular tastes, she would have to get into the car and be driven somewhere.

She's hungry NOW. Twenty dollars in the student cafeteria will buy them both lunch, and the rest can go in the tip jar and make someone's day.

See? She's not all bad.

Besides, the guy she took it from was an ass. Kitty knew him (vaguely) through her father. She was just robbing from the...rich, and giving to the poor (eventually).

Just call her Robin Kat.

She waits patiently, and says in her low, rich voice. "Are you coming? I'm hungry."

His grin is wide and mocking and somehow...almost gentle.
"You said you weren't buying, so I'm not coming."
He twirled, laughing.
"Do I look like I carry cash around with me?"
...yes, his memory does get annoying, thanks for asking.

And his clothes were not tight. There was plenty of room for a wallet. But judging by the worn spots and holes, there was probably no wallet in those pockets.
Keye does have three dollars on him, actually.

"I said I wasn't buying. That boy with way too much hair gel is. Same difference. You're not paying, so stop being difficult and let's go."

She's torn between smiling and rolling her eyes. This boy is amusing. Strange, but amusing.

"Hmmm..." Keye, his expression thoughtful, walks towards her.
"Two lunches on a twenty? My, you're slumming it today."
And then he puts the books down on the ground in front of her.
He was tempted. He still has instincts to accept free food offered to him under any circumstances.
But...
"You should have lunch with that guy you took the money from. I bet he'd carry your books, too."

Kitty looks down at her books, and then up at him with a confused expression on her face.

Uhm...didn't he realize that lunch with Katherine McDaniels was a friggin' privilege!?

"That boy was an--please excuse my language, but I must--asshole. You appear to have at least two brain cells to rub together. I don't understand why you insist on being so difficult."

She doesn't. She's not even in that bad of a mood. I mean, she only insulted him maybe twice out loud. For Kitty, that's *really* good!

"I mean, it's not as if you were struggling with all that weight." She gestures to his height. Kitty was a model-esque 5'11, but even she paled in comparasion to him.

Also, she was starting to get a little impatient. What was his problem?! She checks the ridiculously expensive but classically understated watch on her slim wrist.

"Maybe I'm being difficult because I have at least two brain cells to rub together."
He grins impishly down at her. She hasn't done him any harm yet, so he's still perfectly friendly. He's just not going to take her bull lying down.
"Or maybe I just seem like I do. I gather that they don't grow back, so I have some doubts about whether there's that many left."
Cocaine is a hell of a drug.

She catches the subtle hint behind his words, and shakes her head. Her glossy hair flies. People stop and stare. She ignores them. "Tsk tsk."

Katherine McDaniels does NOT screw around with drugs. When she was in high school, she was responsible for organizing a charity ball to promote awareness for teens and families plagued by drug addictions. (Also, it was a great opportunity to show off her custom made Oscar de la Renta couture. Cookie Mason was SO jealous.)

Eating disorders? That's a different story altogether.

"Well, use any brain cells you are fortunate enough to have remaining and stop being annoying. You are very fortunate you do not have a book shoved up your...rear."

Nope. Kitty doesn't curse. She can be a little blunt, but she's very proper.

Eyebrow.

Oh no she di'n't.

"You wanna try it, girl?"
That is a thick accent, by the way. The kind that brings words like 'shank' and underground boxing rings to mind.

Kitty sighs, and rolls her eyes for the umpteenth time today.

"Don't be a macho meathead. I was speaking hypothetically or perhaps you didn't note the sarcasm in my words. Yes, I'm quite aware it would be physically impossible for me to shove this book up your..." She coughs, looking embarassed suddenly for even thinking about saying the word.

"Use those remaining cells you were just referring to and chill the heck out, kay?"

A boy walks by and stares in unabashed awe. Katherine glares at him until he is cowed and keeps walking. Her eyes roll.

Again.