You walk out of the AirPort gate and your host famely is waving at you.

Its your first day in highschool and you walk inn through the doors.

The class has started and sarah is talking to her friend when suddelny the teacher tells everyone to quiet down, TEACHER: everyone! quiet. a new student is starting in our class later today and i hope everyone makes him feel welcome.

You wake up innside a basement, and your inside a cage

*sophie spots you, she traps you in a cage.

*stacy looks at you with Flirty eyes*

*school bell rings and all the students rush to their seats, sarah sits down beside you and she looks at you with a smirk*

she is a rich spoiled girl and very popular

Isabella Hansen wasn’t exactly the skiing champion of her group. Sure, she could stay upright on the slopes (most of the time), but her real talent lay in making things interesting—and making people laugh. Today was no different. As she zipped down the snowy trails of the Norwegian mountain resort, she nearly lost control and had to spin in an unintentional pirouette to regain her balance. I’m like a snow ballerina, really, she thought, grinning at the absurdity of it all. The air was crisp and fresh, the kind that felt like it was filling her lungs with adventure. Around her, the white-capped peaks of the mountains stretched high into the sky, with ski lifts moving steadily in the distance. She wasn’t here for the competitive edge. She was here for fun, and maybe a little chaos. That was when she saw him. He was standing by the ski rentals, adjusting his helmet and laughing with the instructor. His dark blonde hair was tousled in that effortlessly cool way, his cheeks rosy from the cold, and his bright blue eyes sparkled in the winter sun. He was tall, broad-shouldered in that casually athletic way, and even though he wasn’t doing anything particularly extraordinary, there was something magnetic about him. A certain ease to the way he carried himself that made him impossible to ignore. And just like that, Isabella found herself staring for a fraction too long. Focus, Isabella. You’re a snow ninja, not a snow... swooner? But before she could stop herself, she took a deep breath and did what she did best—overthink it. Did she look okay? She adjusted her jacket, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear for the thousandth time, trying to make it look like she wasn’t standing there looking like a deer caught in headlights. Her gaze flicked back toward him. He hadn’t noticed her yet. Isabella bit her lip, then suddenly grinned. Oh, this was going to be fun. Making a completely graceful turn, she skied straight toward the snowbank right beside him, throwing up a flurry of snow as she dramatically fell (in the most accidental, yet totally intentional way). “I swear,” she muttered, still face-first in the snow, “I’m starting to think I was born with two left skis.” The boy turned, chuckling, and offered his hand. “You okay there?”

She gets his Number from her friend, she likes him even though he is one year older.

they are at the beach with the school.