Sydney Bristow 2300844
Cadet
Title: Young Love
Author: Sydney (Sydney Bristow 2300844)
A/N: This story was inspired by many stories such as: "What May Be" by Joyie (I'm still reading it!! I started reading in May!) and "Popular" by Syd_Vaughn_4ever. thank you to Kristina (Spy41) for coming up with this title.
Oh, and there's no CIA/SD-6. Irina's not Irina, but Laura. Her and Jack are still happily married. Vaughn's dad's not dead.
Review and you get more!!
Young Love
“She has everything she could ever want and more, everything except him.”
Chapter 1
Sydney Bristow stepped out of her Convertible and put her expensive designer purse over her shoulder and locked her car. She walked into the tall, 3-story high school and to her locker. Along the way, her posse of ‘Sydney Bristow Want-To-Bes’ followed her.
Ever since Preschool, Sydney had been the most popular girl in school and that hadn’t changed and never would. Everyone liked her and respected her. Some envied her. She was rich, smart, beautiful, and popular and had everything she could ever want.
Most of it was due to her father, Jack Bristow. He was one of the best lawyers in the state of California and planned on running for senator in the next election.
Sydney’s mother, Laura Bristow, was a Literature Professor at UCLA. All of the teachers at Ocean Side High School admired her.
The Bristows were known for their generous donations every year at Christmas. Each year they donated several books to the library and at least $20,000 to help the school expand their library.
“How was St. Bards?” A Sydney-Want-To-Be asked.
Sydney kept walking and one of the other girls took her books from her and got whatever Sydney needed from her locker.
“It was great. It does tend to get a bit boring when you go there every year for Christmas. This is the third time in a row we go there. Daddy said that we’ll go somewhere else for Easter and Spring Break.”
The bell rang and everyone rushed to class. Sydney’s posse followed her to her first class of the day, Creative Writing.
“Your book, Sydney.” One of the girls said to her and handed her the book. “And your notebook. Newly decorated.” She said and handed her a brand new notebook with flowers drawn all over it and some stickers that said things such as “I’m popular, your not” “Daddy’s Little Angel” “For Rich or for Poor, for Rich Duh!” and “Diamonds are Definitely Girls’ Best Friend”.
Sydney took both of them. “Where’s my pen?”
“Oh, sorry. I forgot.” The girl apologized and handed her a pink feather pen.
Sydney snatched it. “Thank you.” And then walked inside and sat down in the front row.
She crossed her legs and fixed her skirt. Over the years, she was known for the latest fashions. Mostly due, once again, to her father. He often flew to Paris on their private jet to meet with friends of the family, Arvin and Emily Sloane. Both were like second parents to Sydney. Today, she was wearing a skirt that ended just above her knees. It had pink roses on it with a brown ribbon on the hem. A tan colored 3-quarter sleeve shirt and her favorite pair of Steve Maddens.
Sydney was off in her own little world, figuring out how her servants had organized her notebook when someone spoke to her.
“Do you think you could move your purse?” He asked, somewhat rude. In his hand was Sydney’s $500 Burberry bag.
Author: Sydney (Sydney Bristow 2300844)
A/N: This story was inspired by many stories such as: "What May Be" by Joyie (I'm still reading it!! I started reading in May!) and "Popular" by Syd_Vaughn_4ever. thank you to Kristina (Spy41) for coming up with this title.
Oh, and there's no CIA/SD-6. Irina's not Irina, but Laura. Her and Jack are still happily married. Vaughn's dad's not dead.
Review and you get more!!
Young Love
“She has everything she could ever want and more, everything except him.”
Chapter 1
Sydney Bristow stepped out of her Convertible and put her expensive designer purse over her shoulder and locked her car. She walked into the tall, 3-story high school and to her locker. Along the way, her posse of ‘Sydney Bristow Want-To-Bes’ followed her.
Ever since Preschool, Sydney had been the most popular girl in school and that hadn’t changed and never would. Everyone liked her and respected her. Some envied her. She was rich, smart, beautiful, and popular and had everything she could ever want.
Most of it was due to her father, Jack Bristow. He was one of the best lawyers in the state of California and planned on running for senator in the next election.
Sydney’s mother, Laura Bristow, was a Literature Professor at UCLA. All of the teachers at Ocean Side High School admired her.
The Bristows were known for their generous donations every year at Christmas. Each year they donated several books to the library and at least $20,000 to help the school expand their library.
“How was St. Bards?” A Sydney-Want-To-Be asked.
Sydney kept walking and one of the other girls took her books from her and got whatever Sydney needed from her locker.
“It was great. It does tend to get a bit boring when you go there every year for Christmas. This is the third time in a row we go there. Daddy said that we’ll go somewhere else for Easter and Spring Break.”
The bell rang and everyone rushed to class. Sydney’s posse followed her to her first class of the day, Creative Writing.
“Your book, Sydney.” One of the girls said to her and handed her the book. “And your notebook. Newly decorated.” She said and handed her a brand new notebook with flowers drawn all over it and some stickers that said things such as “I’m popular, your not” “Daddy’s Little Angel” “For Rich or for Poor, for Rich Duh!” and “Diamonds are Definitely Girls’ Best Friend”.
Sydney took both of them. “Where’s my pen?”
“Oh, sorry. I forgot.” The girl apologized and handed her a pink feather pen.
Sydney snatched it. “Thank you.” And then walked inside and sat down in the front row.
She crossed her legs and fixed her skirt. Over the years, she was known for the latest fashions. Mostly due, once again, to her father. He often flew to Paris on their private jet to meet with friends of the family, Arvin and Emily Sloane. Both were like second parents to Sydney. Today, she was wearing a skirt that ended just above her knees. It had pink roses on it with a brown ribbon on the hem. A tan colored 3-quarter sleeve shirt and her favorite pair of Steve Maddens.
Sydney was off in her own little world, figuring out how her servants had organized her notebook when someone spoke to her.
“Do you think you could move your purse?” He asked, somewhat rude. In his hand was Sydney’s $500 Burberry bag.
