Dear CEO

Chapter 1 - Mesmerized by him

I wish I wasn’t one of those people who gets sweaty palms whenever they’re nervous or stressed. I know there’s a lot of people that get it but I wish I didn’t. Like right now, standing in front of the class with a red face and sweaty palms. I couldn’t despise anything more. I notice the stares of mockery. I don’t know why I feel so conscious but I know I’m being laughed at. Even when it’s not hearable.

“And that’s how I think we should save the youth of today.” I end the speech, trying to sound confident.

When the other’s ended, they got an applause from the class. The popular kids got wild ones, even silly standing ovations. And here I stand, engulfed by complete silence and stares until Tiffany starts clapping in the back with a toothy grin. I thank her with my eyes then looking at the teacher, who nods at me with provement. I slowly walk back to my table, trying my best to ignore eye contacts from anyone.

“Well done.” Tiffany comments from behind.

I smile feeling thankful for her. Without her, I don’t know how I would’ve survived school.

She’s literally the only one who doesn’t make fun of me or mock me.

I sigh as the bell rings, indicating lunch break. The kids jump from their chairs and rush outside making the teacher shake her head with disapprovement.

I usually just busy myself at the library or walk around outside during breaks, but Tiffany wants me to go to the cafeteria with her because she wants to spy on some crush she has.

“Can’t we go walk outside?” I ask, trying to keep my head down.

“Why?” Tiffany flips around, noticing my embarrassment.

“I don’t know, can we just go?” My voice sounds desperate. I really need to escape this nightmare.

Tiffany starts to look around until her eyes land on the group of girls who are intentionally gossiping about me.

“You care about those retards?” She smirks at them and looks at me with concern, “They are insecure and very jealous. Why do you care about that?”

“Well, they are popular girls, so everything that they say or do matters to everyone else?”

“No, it doesn’t matter. If you are going to make it matter, then it is going to matter. You get what I’m saying?” She eyes me up and down, folding her arms over her chest.

“Yes, but it’s not that easy, okay.” I swallow, “I get what you're saying but it's not something I can just change overnight.”

“But how many times have we gone through this?”

I sigh and just look at him, raising my shoulders. I wish I had the same mindset as her. One that clearly doesn’t give a f**k about anything. I tried so hard to be like her but I just can’t. It’s like a tall wall I need to climb and each time I reach the top it just becomes taller and taller. Tiffany’s eyebrow’s knit together and I can see her thinking very hard.

“What?” I ask, starting to feel even more uncomfortable when the guy’s jog table suddenly turns towards me, and I know it’s Jack who said something to the group as he’s the one sniggering and looking at me with the most intense eyes.

I bite my lip and feel my heart leap out of my chest. By now it feels like I just want to run out of here.

“Tiffany please.” I plead. Maybe I must just walk out alone. But I don’t want to make more of a fool of myself.

Tiffany blows out of her nose, and whispers a small ‘fine.’ Before turning and dragging me with her.

I feel a puddle of relief as soon as I step out of the busy cafeteria. I sigh, out of relief feeling anxiety leaving my body. Until I bump into something hard and as if in slow motion, I tumble to the ground, the atmosphere twirling around me. I wait for the hard hit but the ground doesn’t come. Instead I feel a hard grip on my wrist, pulling upward with a strong motion. I

“Wow.” I whisper, wondering how Tiffany got so strong but when I realize it isn’t Tiffany, my cheeks warm up.

I swallow. His face is still facing the ground but from what I can see, he’s beautiful. I swallow again as he turns his head towards me, his hand still wrapped around wrist. His brown hair shooshes back and his skin reminds me of honey. When our eyes reach each other, a spark erupts in my heart. I suddenly forget how to breathe. His dark green eyes are intense on me, making me eagerly want to know what he’s thinking about. His eyes slowly move down my face, to my lips and a small gasp escapes my mouth.

What the hell Rosalie?

What the hell is wrong with me?

He grits his teeth making his sharp jawline more defined and steps back, leaving my wrist. His eyes are now glancing down at my body making me feel insecure.

I spoiled it with the gasp.

I sigh as he walks away without saying anything.

I suddenly remember Tiffany, who’s gawking at me with big eyes, as if she just watched a movie.

“What?” I ask, raising my shoulders. I swallow all my gathered spit.

Tiffany shakes her head, coming out of her trance and puts her hands on my shoulders.

“Are you okay?” She asks with false concern.

“Yes.”

“Okay, well, that’s totally my crush.” She licks her lips as a small smile plays on his lips.

“Wait,” I raise my eyebrows at her, “He’s your crush?”

“Yes.”

I try to hide the upcoming jealousy, “But I’ve never seen him here before.”

“Yeah, he’s big in some company and from last week he came here, to volunteer for the business class.”

She has business. I don’t.

“Oh, cool.” I say.

“But he’s mesmerizing, right?” Her eyes are big and swoony.

I raise my shoulders and purse my lips.

We start to slow walk through the halls and I can see something deep is in her mind.

We stay quiet for a few minutes before she starts talking.

“You know why people are like that to you?” Now she refers back to the cafeteria.

I grit my teeth. She sounds like my mom, whenever I cry about how I feel and tell her how people are treating me.

“Like what?” I ask

“You really are clueless, aren’t you?” I feel her aura radiating irritation.

I look at her and shake my head.

“Come with me.” She grabs my wrist and drags me towards the nearest ladies bathroom.

“What?” I ask, pulling my arm out of her tight grip.

She then points to the last mirror against the wall. The last one is the only one that has no markings on. I don't understand why girls have to write stuff, especially nasty stuff on the bathroom walls, doors and mirrors.

“What do you see when you look in the mirror?”

I raise my eyebrow at her, wanting to laugh but looking at her serious face, I hold it in.

“Myself.” I say, raising my shoulders and feeling confused.

Once again she takes my hand and drags me until I’m standing right in front of the mirror.

“What do you see?” She asks again.

“Well, now I see me and you.” I purse my lips and look at her stern face.

She’s wearing some black shorts and a tight nirvana T-shirt. Her black curly hair is tied in a flat pony low behind her head.

She has perfect winged eyeliner, making her hazel eyes shine more than usual. Her light brown skin is glossy with the coconut oil she usually smears over it. Tiffany is sexy. Her body figure is curvy and muscular in just the right places. She gives off a dark femine energy and what makes her beautiful is her confidence. Also her kindness because she took someone like me as a friend. I can just think how embarrassed it must have been for her if didn't have that careless personality.

“No, look at yourself.” She lifts her head and looks me deep in my eyes from the mirror. “What do you see?”

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Tiffany.” I say, rolling my eyes. This time I’m starting to lose my patience and feel irritated. Why can’t she come to the point? I know she wants me to answer something that she wants to but how am I supposed to know what?

She stands behind me slowly raking my whole body with her intense brown eyes.

“Don’t you see how beautiful you are?” She places her hands on my shoulders, softly and looks at me with adorable eyes. I always notice how quick the expression on her face can change. One minute she can be super angry and the next minute she’s over the moon happy.

“Yeah, so?” I say, giving her a sideways glance making her turn my head with the tip of her fingers.

“You’re not looking.” She says harshly.

I huff out air and unpleasant look at myself in the mirror,to plead Tiffany. I start with my eyes. Yellowish green. Then to my nose, which a lot of people named it after a button nose. Then my lips, which Tiffany always gushes about. She wants to do a lip job but everytime when she brings it up, she says how much she envies mine.

But if my lips were thin, I wouldn’t really care. I mean why should we.

I then look at my long blonde curls, almost touching my butt but because it’s always so messy I just rake it in a low ponytail.

I bite my lips, “Okay, I looked.” This time she could see that I actually looked at myself so she can’t moan about nothing.

I step out of her aura and stand against the glossy white wall, away from the mirrors.

“I don’t understand why you are so insecure when you’re so beautiful.”

I lift my shoulders and mumble ‘I don’t know’ because I don’t know either.

“Why?” Her eyes are big as she slowly moves and stands before me placing her hands on her hips.

“I don’t know. Why do you care anyway?” I raise my eyebrows at her.

“Cause I hate those f*****g girls,whojust think they are better than everyone else, when they clearly aren’t.” I feel anger radiating from her deep breaths making me purse my lips.

“Oh, so that’s what it’s about?”

“No, well yes,” She massages her forehead with her fingers,”but also the fact that you never stick up for yourself man.”

“I still don’t know-”

She shakes her head and puts her finger on my lips, making me stop talking. She’s so near me I can feel her warm coffee breath on my face.

“I care, Rose.” Her eyes are flickering as her eyes look down at me, with our few inches height difference.

My eyes widen and I step out of her closeness feeling freaked out. I don’t know what was up with that. That was extremely weird.

“Of course you do, we are friends.” I say, stating the obvious.

“Exactly!” She jumps in her step and it’s almost as if she wants to cover her weird moment just now.

“Yeah!” I throw my hands in the air trying to sound as enthusiastic as she all of a sudden is.

She starts to bite her fingernails and walk up and down.

“You don’t understand.”

“What?” I sigh. Can we just get this over with, geez.

“I just want you to be more confident.”

“Yeah, I also want that.” I say, knowing of all the times I’ve tried so hard to gain confidence. Like when we have to say a speech in front of the class and I try to remember every word that I’ve learned line for line, but it’s like my mind steps into an empty space and my cheeks are being splashed heavily by red tomatoes.

Or to care and think too much when people stare at me or talk about me. I tried a million times but it just doesn’t work. I suppose it's because it’s just built in me.

“So why don’t you just be?” Tiffany asks, carelessly lifting her shoulders.

“I don’t know. I tried. It just isn’t in me.” I say, showing that I’m clearly irritated. I don’t know why she dedicated her whole break to tell me this stuff that I already know. I want to eat the sandwiches mom made me.

“It can be.” She says, getting an inspiring look on her face.

“Okay.” I say sighing. I lay my head back and tilt it side to side, stretching the stiffness.

I notice the five bathroom stall doors open and wonder why no one has even entered here yet.

I frown, my thoughts elsewhere ehn Tiffany starts talking again.

“It isn’t just something that happens overnight.”

“Well, no shit.” I look down at my toes, sticking from the leather flip flops my mom made me.

“You just need to do something each day, to improve that.” She says as if it’s a million dollar idea.

“Tiffany!” I grunt, “ Can we just go out of the bathroom, I’m hungry.” Just with my last word, someone enters the bathroom, making loud clicking noises.

It’s Mia Kendrick. Remember when I was talking about the most popular girls in school. Well, she’s the top of them all. Everyone else is her puppets.

“Oh hi.” She says, looking at Tiffany at me, a small smile playing on her lips.

I smile back, but Tiffany glares daggers.

“Are you having a break in here?” She asks, walking towards the mirror. She looks at us waiting to answer.

“No!” Tiffany says, glaring at her.

Mia starts to perfect her lips with bright red lipstick. I quickly eye her perfect winged outliner making her blue eyes stand out more. When she starts to ruffle her straight brown hair, her eyes land on mine from the mirror and I quickly look at the floor.

“Rosalie?” Mia says in a questionly manner and because I didn’t answer quick enough Tiffany bashes a loud ‘what.’

“I’m talking to Rosalie.” Mia says, rolling her eyes. She turns and looks at me, resting her body against the washing bin behind her.

“Yes.” I say, feeling beads of sweat form on my face.

I try to ignore Tiffany’s glare falling on me.

“Have you ever tried, like, a new style?” She eyes my outfit, making my own eyes fall down to look at what I’m wearing.

It’s the rainbow button up shirt mom made me with some knee high shorts. I remember how proud mom was when she held it out towards me with a big toothy grin. It felt so good to put it on and look at her proud face. It made her so happy.

I glance at Tiffany who’s also staring at my shirt with a weird expression.

“What do you mean?” I uncomfortably throw my hands in the air, feeling the stares of daggers.

I bite my lips, hard, feeling the anticipated wait for Mia’s response. I just want to get out of here. I glare at Tiffany. If it wasn’t for her, this wouldn’t have happened.

“Like,” she giggles lightly, “I don’t know. Maybe wear a new shirt?”

I widen my eyes, “Why?”

I assumed that Tiffany was going to speak up for me, but she didn’t, except stare at my shirt and then look at Mia with a nasty glare.

Mia starts to laugh full blown from her stomach, twirling a strand of hair with her fingers.

“I guess that’s just your style,” she slowly starts to waltz towards the door, “Or if you don’t have anything else to wear, just tell me, I have some throw away clothes. You know, presents I got, not my style.” And with that she exits the bathroom.

I purse my lips and look at Tiffany who seems as if she’s ready to kill.

“I swear I’m going to bash her head off!” She makes weird spasm movements with her hands.

I shake my head and roll my eyes, feeling kind of the same.

“You literally just let her walk over you!” She eyes me harshly.

“No I didn’t?” I say, putting my hands on my hips. I motion for her to exit the bathroom and we finally leave.

“Yes you did!” Her voice is loud and echoes in the quiet halls. I put my finger to my lips, letting her know that she should quiet down. I don’t want anyone else knowing about the incident or about any of our problems.

“I mean, why didn’t you just tell her to f**k off?”

“That's a little bit harsh.” I say walking towards the english class, where I left my bag. I take out the bright red lunch box and take out a peanut butter sandwich mom made. I offer Tiffany one but she declines politely.

“Can I tell you something?” Tiffany starts, nervously fidgeting with her hands.

I frown. I rarely see Tiffany nervous, “Sure?”

“Why do you think people are like this to you?” She looks at me sideways once.

I lift my shoulders, “ I don’t know.” Mom usually says, it’s because they are jealous, but I didn’t want Tiffany to know that that's what I think.

“You know, you can sometimes be a little bit dumb?” She swallows and looks at me with a dumbfounded smile. A strand of her thick curly hair falls in her face and she blows it away with an irritated glare.

“That’s mean!”

“Ok, listen, can I give you a make-over?” She stops and turns to look at me with big pleading eyes.

“Why?” I sigh.

“Well not like a make-over, make-over. More like a closet make-over?” We start to walk again, but her eyes stay on me, waiting for my answer.

“Why?” I ask again.

“Well, not to be rude, but your style kind of sucks.” She scratches the back of her neck and I can see her becoming uncomfortable.

The history teacher, Mr. Rodger, passes us and he gives me a big smile and a nod. I don’t get class from him, but he’s always so friendly and greets me when he sees me. Probably because he’s old. Old people tend to be much friendlier than us teenagers.

“Why?” I ask, glancing at my outfit, “My mom made it for me and I like it.”

“I know, but that’s just not what's in these days.”

I stay quiet for a brief moment, enjoying a big bite of the sandwich, smooth peanut butter circling my tongue. I just love peanut butter.

“Tiffany! You know we don’t have much. I just have to wear what we’ve got.”

“I know, but can I tell you something?” She starts to fidget with her hands again.

“Yes!”

“That’s why people are picking on you so much.”

“Why?” I feel dumb and confused. It's as if she’s speaking another language that’s about me and I don’t know anything about it.

“There's really nothing wrong with you. You are practically perfect and that’s most girls are actually jealous,” That’s what I hear a lot from mom and her friends, but I never knew if it was true, “but because you’re kind of poor and don’t have much good looking clothes to wear, they use that against you.”

I look at her and say nothing. I know she’s speaking the truth, but even if I wanted to wear something better, I couldn’t do it to mom. She practically makes all of my clothes.

We awkwardly walk in silence until the bell rings.

“We only have like 2 months left of school,” She nags, “ Please let me give you a make-over.”

“I’ll think about it.” is the only thing I say, before I walk off towards my next class.

My mind can’t help but run back to the moment with the guy with the most intense green eyes.

I can’t get a grip on what is so mesmerizing about him. His eyes. Or his leather jacket vibe?