If there was one thing everyone knew, it was that Shayne Andrews was the most popular guy in school. Well, as far as cross-dressers went. He made sure that he was widely accepted by the guys by giving them the time of their lives behind semi-closed doors, and he even had a few teachers underneath his thumb.

The boy was around 5'1", but he wore heels to boost his height on most days. Long, curly mahogany hair crept down to his back, hanging down past his rear if straightened, held caramel colored streaks that looked just gorgeous as the curls framed his lightly tanned face. Intense poisonous eyes looked out at the world with a 'I'm better than YOU' kind of glint to them, and he never took 'no' for an answer.

Today he wore a tight gray Coca-Cola shirt, the words written in shiny red writing, and a red short wrap-skirt, something nice and sweet and sexy; the embodiment of Shayne when he wasn't being a total bitch. Which, if you were on his bad side, happened quite often. That was why most people didn't try for that.

As he stepped into his first hour class, he took in the few students sitting boredly at their desks, looking about to fall asleep. He was always chipper and awake; he got up early to make himself look beautiful. However, he just knew this hour would be Hell today. He had no one to make it easier to bear, and he was stuck with the weirdest teacher in the whole school. Thank God his parents were shipping him off on a 'date' with some guy to that fancy restaurant on the other side of town after school.