We’ve not even gotten out of the car yet, and already the girls and boys are gathering over. Perks of being famous. Or, having famous bad boy brothers.
This is our everyday morning routine. The cheerleaders and the team players stand in a circle, doing everything they can possibly do, starting from talking, and ending on mostly fights.
My eyes fall on the baddest of the bad, meanest of the mean, and the most beautiful boy in our school. He opens the door for me acting like a real gentleman with his teasing, devilish smirk plastered on.
Meet Trevor Hunt, co-captain of the football team, a multimillionaires son, has anger issues but can be really sweet sometimes. Drives a black Aston Martin, and spends money without blinking.
Makes girls swoon over him just be showing his teeth, or winking. Turns heads, a lot. Wears the most amazing cologne ever, and dresses like the future ‘Richest Man in the world’.
“In a bad mood, are we?” he asks, closing the door shut, and crossing his arms over his hard/wall chest.
It’s not like I hate him, or hold a grudge against him, but he’s just too. . . immature. Well, I am too, but he’s just way more. Just last week he superglued our English Lit teachers chair, and then literally had the nerve of blaming it on me. AND, ladies and gentleman, I couldn’t defend myself so I payed a visit to the head master.
“Go annoy someone else, Hunt,” I groan, walking away from him, and towards my friends waiting for me at the gates.
He falls in step beside me. I sigh. “These ridiculous glasses suit you a lotttttttt!” he sings, laughing on his own stupid un-funny joke. Ha ha very funny.
“Dude, that’s my baby sister!” Julian barks, slapping Trevor on his head. I roll my eyes at Julian and his everyday ′Dude, that’s my baby sister’ speech. He still doesn’t think I’ve grown in a beautiful (joking) lady.
“What the Heck, Marcus!” Trevor shouts, anddd there goes his anger. Call 911! Trevor’s just about to lose his temper!
I sprint away before my eyes witness their usual fights. I mean I just don’t understand, my brother knows Trevor hates being shouted at, or given orders, bla bla, and he still bothers him. Like, whatever but still.
A sigh of relief escapes from within me, as I reach my friends, Bilkees, and Ryan. They were talking amongst themselves and when they noticed me, their faces lit up like Trevor’s party. Stop thinking about him!
“Hey!” They both chirp in unison. Bilkees eyes me curiously and asks, “Why are you sweating so bad?”
Bilkees is my closest friend, despite of our appearances.. Personally, I respect that how she dresses, and I know covering ourselves is so important but I just. . . Don’t kno. She’s as sweet girl, came from Pakistan, has dark brown eyes and wears a head scarf, although I’ve seen her hair that are black. She’s gorgeous. Not too skinny, not to fat, just below chubby. Wears clothes that are a bit loose, and covers her whole body. I love her to the moon and back.
“Just the usual interaction with Hunt,” I fill them in, and Ryan bursts out laughing.
Ryan is the only boy I talk to, and hang out with. He’s sweet, protective, decent, and cute (cheerleaders words, not mine). To me and Bilkees, he is like a brother. We don’t think about him in that cute, beautiful, gorgeous way. His green eyes are always filled with such life and sparkle with happiness all the time, that even when I’m feeling low, his face cheers me up. Also, his energy that’s never low. He’s an athletic boy, so isn’t too thin or something.
We walk inside past the group of students outside. Our lockers are in the same place, so we always meet up before every class.
“That guy is obsessed with you, Lee,” Ryan announces with a dramatic voice. Hah, of course he is.
I slam my locker door shut, and spin around to face Ryan and his crazy theories.
“Carry my books for me,” I command, shoving the thick biology book in his chest. He laughs and tucks it under his arm. “And, it’s not called obsession, Ryan buddy. It’s called annoying someone to the point where they someday go out of their mind. He’s like this with all the average girls who don’t have the talent to fall at his feet.”
Loud laughter erupts in the corridor. Even though I am beyond annoyed, I join Ryan just to not make him feel left out.
“I need to go to the bathroom, meet me there in 5 minutes,” Bilkees says returning from her locker with her notebook. I nod, and she strides away.
Ryan leans against the locker next to mine. He opens his mouth to say something but is cut off by Bethany.
Super. Did I mention before that I hate the twins?
She fake grins, her funny braces on display. “How did it feel not to be a maid for one night?”
I grit my teeth, and fake a smile. Beside me, Ryan tenses. “How did it feel to do all your work yourself?”
Her grin falls off her face like her fake eyelashes mostly do. “Sarcasm is definitely not in your blood,” she spits with pure venom.
When a person says that, it means you’re definitely sarcastic.
“You—” I begin but Ryan places his hand on my shoulder and shakes his head lightly. Just for Ryan. Just for Ryan. Don’t murder her yet. Go home and plan something for that big day.
“I hate hate hate hate HATE HER!” I scream in frustration at that woman with a nerve who stops by a girl from my class at the end of the corridor.
“Just don’t let her get in your head, Lee.”
I see red. Maybe some maroon too, but I see RED! I couldn’t even eat my pizza this morning!
“She deserves nothing!” I yank open my locker and grab my royal blue pumps. I had them for emergency purposes, like now. One is enough for that head of hers. So, I put back the other shoe. And lock the locker.
“Oh no no no no, Lee! You crazy, girl?” Ryan whisper shouts when the realisation hits him. He tries to snatch it from me but I don’t let him.
I aim for her head, and throw it with all my strength. Ryan gasps with his hand over his mouth while I smile in satisfaction, until—
OH NO NO NO NO NOOOO!
Bethany is no longer standing there. Instead of making contact with her head, it collides with Trevor Hunt. And then both Ryan and I run for our lives upon seeing his red face with a crease on his forehead.
And I think I heard him shout, “WHO THREW THIS SHOE AT ME?!”