Being a nerd of color is no easy ride in the park, especially when you're from the rough side of the town. But when one has the street smarts to survive, a hardy personality that can rival Alexis Carrington from Dynasty and Cookie Lyons from Empire, and a colorful language that can make even the most filthy-mouthed sailor blush like a nun; then one has to be prepared for anything and everything.

For me, I hold all these traits alongside a fashion style that can give any fashion house a run for their money and I have the brains for the school life. But when it comes to having a social life, you can say that I'm more of a bookwork/controversial type that attracts fellow nerds and other outcasts (Goth kids, the religious kids, and even the hip-hop crew). Hell, I was even able to attract the Valley Girls (and boys). And unfortunately, that didn't fit in the usual "all-American/social-climbing/jet-setting way" for the York family household. And my parents (my dad being a well-known defense attorney and mom a banker- both of them attracting big-time clients) thought that I should be attracting the attention of the REAL movers and shakers (teen athletes, social-media kids, cheerleaders, and any of the stereotypical teenage "beautiful people"). And that was when the announcement of my parents deciding to move me from Oakland to Berkeley.

I could've taken it with a temper-tantrum or a fit of tears like any other teenager who was making friends just fine; but I knew that Mom and Dad (and even my college-aged sisters, both of them socialites in their own rights) wouldn't budge. Not only that, I had way too much class (thanks to some home training from my maternal grandparents, saintly ones who supported me all the way) to act the fool. So after my junior year of high school was completed, I made the most of my summer vacation by getting my things packed, settling old affairs with my circle of misfits, and assured myself that nothing was going to change much.

If only I had known that my time in Berkeley and my senior year was going to be full of gag-worthy surprises and secrets that would change my life and really despise my blindly-ambitious and fame-hungry family more than I already did; well...things might have been easier to deal with but we wouldn't have much of a story, now would we?

And I have to warn you, folks, that it involves a LOT of spandex, game-changers, and pop-culture references that will either make you laugh your ass off or make you more confused. And if my life was a soap opera, I guess you can say that this could make the Degrassi franchise look like a kid's birthday party.

So I just gotta ask: are you sure you want to know MY story?

Okay, let's go!

*********************

Go on a picnic, they said.

It'll be good for you, they said.

You need to get some air in your lungs, they said.

Of course, my first day in the college-designated town of Berkeley, California (home of the Cal Golden Bears) after dutifully getting my bedroom arranged perfectly (a fashion-designer's wet dream with a mini-studio) was going to lead me to be out of Mom and Dad's hair as they spend some "quality time (insert nauseated emoji here)" while my grandparents were going to a flea market. But I knew that they would give me no peace unless I did agreed to go outside instead of spending time doing some reading. So (after some negotiations which went unheeded) I was given some money to buy my picnic lunch from Josette's Deli alongside a checkered blanket and made my way towards Ceres Park where everyone was basking in the glow of the late-summertime weekend. I was grateful that I was allowed to take my multi-purpose e-reader and tablet with me so I could enjoy my weekend.

After weaving through various joggers, some parents taking their kids to feed the ducks and be entertained by a talentless magician, and some teenagers twittering about some pointless concert; I found myself a spot near a fountain and set up my picnic area like I wanted.

Unfortunately, a man dressed in all-black and his face covered by a ski-mask decided that it would be fun to not only knock me around and gift me some bruises to my face but also took my wallet (pointless since I had the real money hidden in my shoe) and my favorite pendant (bought from a flea market back in ninth grade) and even broke my cell-phone. He even wrecked my lunch!

"Hey!" I heard someone boom.

"Oh, my God! Kid, are you okay?!"

I grunted, rolling onto my back to see two young women hover over me with concerned looks on their faces. "Fuckin' hell," I said.

I saw four athletic jocks rush past me. "Don't worry, kid, we'll catch 'em!" one of them hollered.

The first young woman, a striking redhead and dressed as if she was the lead singer of a rock band, helped me to my feet. "I can't believe this," she breathed. "Kid, are you okay?"

"Peachy, but my picnic lunch is now dead in the water," I grunted, taking a deep breath to steel away the pain. "What a way to kick off being the new kid in town, huh?"

"Ouch," the second young woman, a blonde version of Nina Dobrev, replied, brushing the grass off of my pants. "Anything of value that the jerk broke?"

"Just my cell-phone, which is going to cost me my allowance for two months," I replied. "My wallet's a decoy and the pendant's worthless."

We turned to see the group of guys coming towards us. "The guy was too fast for us," one of them- a linebacker of a black-haired dude- said apologetically. "Basically sped out of there like he was Usain Bolt."

"Ugh, at least y'all tried," I said as the ladies led me to a picnic table before some policemen came over to take my statement.

Five minutes (and an additional five spent with a phone call to my concerned mom, who had the police find the perp before assuring me that my phone would be replaced) later, the teens stuck around while the cops took off. "So you're the new kid in town, huh?" the black-haired jock commented. "Name's Kaleb Stanley. The ladies who helped you up are Diane Adams and Lita St. Matthews."

"Charmed," I said, shaking hands with my female saviors. Lita was the redhead while Diane was the blonde.

"Well, well. What do we have here?"

I whirled to see an walking Adonis incarnate: male-model build with sun-kissed skin, dark-brown hair that was styled and gelled copiously, and mischievous green eyes that shone like emeralds under the sun. And judging by his swagger and his all-American demeanor, I knew that he was going to be trouble.

"Marcel, man, we were wondering where you were," one of the jocks (a sandy-blonde beanpole-thin guy named Rory Clemmons) greeted. "We were helping the new kid otu after he got mugged and his picnic lunch got wrecked."

"Yeah," an Afro-Asian fellow named Lincoln Stewart commented. "His phone got wrecked and he got knocked around, but he seems to be doing okay."

"I bet he is," the all-American jock named Marcel said as he turned his attention to me. "Someone so...delicate shouldn't be attacked in broad daylight. This town is safe, but there's some assholes who can still cause some unwanted drama."

I'll bet.

"I just had a thought," Diane piped up. "Why don't we treat the new kid to some lunch since his got trashed in the fountain? A cute guy like him needs to add some meat to his bones."

I gave her a look of disbelief, inwardly frowning on her comment about my skinny frame. "Are you sure?" I asked. "I'd hate to impose and I could easily head to Josette's for another picnic meal."

"Don't be silly," a masculine Asian guy named Vincent Yeun said, shaking his head. "Besides, you could use some company and who knows what might happen if that perp returned."

I took a deep breath, knowing that my parents would want me to accept. "All right," I said. "I'm down for a good lunch."

Everyone cheered as Marcel took my hand into his, giving me a wide grin. "You're going to enjoy our time together, kid," he said. "And that's my promise. Now tell me, what's your name."

And I didn't know why, but something in me felt like I needed to answer him. "Kyle. Kyle La'Van Jan'Twaine York," I answered.

"That's a nice name," Marcel said. "It's a mouthful, but in a good way. I'm Marcel Dermott. And let me be the first to welcome you to Berkeley, California."

Who would've thought that my encounter with Marcel Dermott would the the start of a messed-up saga?

And here we go, boys and girls! The story is now underway as Kyle has met the Beautiful People. You'll get to know more about them as they take Kyle to lunch in the next chapter! Stick around, folks, because you can never go wrong!

Dedication: Dvine_Faerie. Song: "Black Horse and a Cherry Tree" by KT Tunstall.

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