Chapter 2// Who Do You Think You Are?
1003 Words
Chapter 2// Who Do You Think You Are?
I woke up grumpy, knowing that I’ll have to go without Lindsay from now on.
Yup, you guessed it.
It’s my first day at V.C. High School and I’m not the least bit excited.
Mom thought it would be better if I dressed up, but I declined. Unfortunately, things never go my way. Today’s her day off and it seems as if all of a sudden, she has transformed into an early riser.
At 6:00 AM, I am slightly alert to some footsteps in the hall. Shrugging it off, I snuggle into my mattress for another couple of hours before I even think about getting ready. Again, the footsteps echo throughout the hall, the hollow sounds of impatient pacing back and forth slipping into my room. After a few minutes of ignoring the obvious, my room door suddenly bursts open.
“Wha- AHHHHHHHHHH HELP! HELP! I’M TOO YOUNG FOR THE DIRT!” I exclaimed, hitting the intruder with my pillows.
“Melissa! It’s me, your mother,” she scolds.
“Oh, sorry ma.”
She just stands there, grinning. It’s very creepy and quite suspicious.
Realization suddenly smacks me upside the head and shoots a pistol at my eye. “No, mom. I said no, please?”
“Hurry or you’ll be late,” she sighs.
“Aw, thanks for understanding.” I smile slightly.
“Your clothes are on my bed,” she says as she shuts the door behind her.
Nice one.
***
I was dressed in a light blue spaghetti dress, a white cardigan, and white flats. My brown hair was pulled back into a loose fishtail braid, courtesy of my mother. I couldn’t be bothered with makeup, so I only applied mascara and lip gloss.
I grabbed a protein shake from the cupboard and threw it in my bookbag, heading for the door. As I was about to close it, mom called out to me, “Knock ‘em dead, sweetheart!”
The walk to school was uneventful and slightly cold. Everything starts cooling down in November, and my bare legs were receiving death threats from the wind. Almost there.
Surprisingly, as soon as I said that, I looked up to see that I was just a few meters away from the front gate. Quickly, I rushed to the central parking lot. Surely, there was a Barbie there with her Barbie minions, and a few normal kids who seemed to worship her. I peered through one of the windows of the school and saw that inside held very few people. Ahh the nerds, I chuckled to myself. Taking one last look at the parking lot, I spot a group of boys huddled by some motorcycles, maybe six or seven. Bad boys. But one stood out.
Beautiful brown hair, blue-green eyes, perfect jaw line… Am I drooling? Oops.
I decided to stop staring at Mr. Perfect over there and walked to the annexed lot. Once I got there, I smiled internally.
No buff jocks, or skanks, or even Queen Bees. Just the normal ones, like myself.
Yeah right.
I spot a kind-looking girl around my age and make my way over to her. I can literally smell rainbows around her.
Not kidding.
“Hi, my name is Melissa. I’m new. Could you show me to the office?” I politely ask. Damn, I sound like a loser.
“So, you’re Melissa, huh? I’m Sammi. And yes, I’ll show you,” she responds.
“Thanks.”
“No problem. Just follow me,” she instructs and takes off to what I’m assuming is the office. When we came back to the front, I made the mistake of looking back at the crowd. In the two seconds I was not paying attention to where I was going, I managed to disrupt a lip-locking session. And guess between who?
Mr. Perfect and Ms. Bee.
“Watch it nerd,” the guy grumbles. Even his voice gives me ear-gasms. What is wrong with me, ugh!
“Ever heard of no PDA in public. Keep it to Private Display of Affection. Thank you very much.” I roll my eyes.
When I try to walk away Ms. Bee grabs hold of my forearm and squeezes. Ha! She thinks she’s strong. Out of the corner of my eye I see a crowd forming and a very worried looking Sammi trembling. They all offer me worried stares. Except for Bee’s minions, who look at me like garbage. I know that after Rochie’s murderous attack I look like a small kitten trying to intimidate a bull dog, but I’m not. Of course, everything is stereotyped, Mary did warn me of the clichés and stereotypes often used here.
“Who do you think you are?” she sneers, her upper lip curling in disgust.
“The girl who will snap your nose if you don’t let go of me” I growl. My patience is running really low for this chick.
“b***h,” she mutters.
I rip my arm out of her hold and grab Sammi, “Let’s go,” I demand. Before we enter the building, I turn around. Bee is still looking at me in disgust. Perfect. “You’re such a ratshole!” I yell raising my middle finger. Before she gets to respond, Sammi and I disappear into the building.
“Ratshole?” she giggled.
I shrugged nonchalantly. “I don’t curse much. Only when I’m really mad or excited.”
“Oh. By the way, you were perfect out there, all badass and whatnot.”
Oh, you have no idea.
I smiled in acknowledgement. What I just pulled off was never seen before, coming from me of all people.
- Writer
