3| Sorry Guys, You Just Aren't My Type
3| Sorry Guys, You Just Aren't My Type
Westmount high is crowded. The halls are packed with teenagers who are all excited to see each other after a summer away. I can barely move without getting barged into.
The people here are rude and inconsiderate. Not one of them apologized for pushing me into a locker or making me almost drop my stuff. I had to hold my tongue from biting back at them.
I want to make a good first impression and that meant not being known as the girl who doesn’t take shit from anybody. After all, first impressions are very important.
I try to bypass the students, sometimes hitting their shoulders. Why was everything here so awkward?
“Excuse me,” I mumble, pushing through a group who are stood outside of the reception office. Two of the girls, whose faces were caked in make—up and are wearing clothes that would fit my ten—year—old cousin, glare at me.
Ignoring them, I walk into the open office and breathe. The office is nice and spacious; not many students are in here. I can barely hear everyone outside, which I am counting as a good thing.
I approach the desk where a lady with grey hair is typing. She looks tired and defeated. Overall, she looks like she doesn’t want to be here. Same here.
“Hi.” I politely greet, standing in front of the desk. Her brown eyes look up and she gives me a small smile.
“Hello, honey. Are you new?” She asks and I nod. “Well, welcome to Westmount High. Can I take your name please?”
I nod and tell her my name. My fingers tap on the desk as I wait for her to print out my timetable and give me all of the necessary details.
Eventually, she finishes and hands me the sheet. “Here you are sweetie. I’ll get someone to show you around the school.”
I open my mouth to tell her that I don’t need anyone, that I can find my own way around but she beats me, by clicking the speaker and calling out a ‘Molly Holland’.
Quicker then what I expect, a black haired girl comes up to me. She’s around 5"5 and has long, silky black hair that I’m immediately envious of. Her chocolate brown eyes are small, maybe a bit too small for her face but with her soft features, it makes her look cute.
“Hi, I’m Molly.” She beams, holding out her hand. She looks like one of those people who is always happy, bright and welcoming.
She reminds me of myself from two years ago.
“Hello, I’m Ava.” I smile, taking her hand and shaking it. Her hand is small and tanned, like the rest of her. Her tanned complexion makes her look absolutely stunning, I’ve always wanted olive colored skin. The way it contrasts with her pitch black hair makes me envious of her, again.
"Great!” She says excitedly. “Let me show you around. And if you’d like, we could sit together at lunch.”
Wow, she’s really nice. I have already put myself in the loner mindset today, knowing I wouldn’t make any friends today.
“That’s really kind of you,” I say, opening the doors to the packed hallways.
Molly surprises me by linking her arm with mine; leads me down the hallways. I notice she’s holding my timetable and is muttering to herself 209, my locker number to myself. Most people would think she’s strange, muttering to herself but I find it quite amusing. I myself, mutter to myself.
I observe her, how her body language looks closed. When I first met her, she seemed like an open person who was an extrovert but perhaps I was wrong. Maybe she’s only open to people she’s comfortable with. It makes me happy that she feels comfortable around me.
“What?” Molly asks, raising her head to look at me, her eyes curious. Dammit, now she might think I’m acting like a creep.
“Nothing.” I shake my head, a small smile on my face.
“Tell me.” She pouts, her light pink lips jutting out. Her eyes are pleading with mine to answer her.
I sigh, running a hand through my hair. “I thought I was the only weird person who talked to their self.”
She laughs, her eyes gleaming with something.
“I know right! Everyone says I’m crazy.”
I nod my head in agreement. “Yeah, that amount of times people have said I should be checked out by a psychiatrist is unreal.”
We both burst into giggles. I feel like we’re bonding. The way we talk to each other is like we’re old friends, not two strangers who just met each other. I can tell that we are going to be good friends, maybe even best friends.
She shows me around the school and takes me to my locker. All the while, we talk about ourselves, including what we like and hate etc.
I find out that Molly has a brother who is a couple of months older than her. She says he’s a football player and is popular. She lives with both of her parents, her brother: Josh and her cat: Fluffy.
Molly likes listening to Taylor Swift (who I don’t mind, some of her songs are good). She likes to draw—she said she wants to become an artist. Molly also said she loves watching things on Netflix, like me. She watches Stranger Things, The Vampire Diaries and a bunch of films.
We are so similar yet so different. She likes to read and stay at home; I like too, at times. After everything that happened two years ago, I changed. I love to party and make out with guys but I also like to read, hang out with friends and watch films.
I don’t count myself as a slut, I just like to make out with guys. I love the attention, like any other girl. Plus I learned the hard way that guys only want you for sex.
“Molly, I feel like your my long lost sister,” I claim, shutting my new locker shut.
Molly laughs at me and agrees.
“What do you have first?” I ask her, checking my timetable as well to see I have History. Great, my favorite subject.
“History with Mr. Bryan.” She answers, her shoulders slouching.
I squeal with excitement and she looks at me in confusion. “We have the lesson together.”
She cheers with me and links arms with me.
We walk down the halls and I now begin to notice how a lot of people’s attention are on me. They must be curious, after all, I am the new girl. We all know that when someone new arrives, everybody has to know everything about them.
A lot of the boys are checking me out. Maybe wearing skinny jeans and a crop top that just goes past my belly button wasn’t a good idea.
We pass a group of good-looking guys who were not so discreetly eyeballing me.
“Molly!” A guy with black hair shouts. Molly turns to look at him and gives him a small smile. I look at the two of them in confusion until I properly see the similarities between them. Both of them have pitch black hair, tanned skin, and chocolate brown eyes. That has to be Josh, her older brother.
He beckons us to come over and begrudgingly, I do.
“Hi, are you new because I’ve never seen a girl as gorgeous as you here before.” A guy with brown hair flirts with me causing me to roll my eyes.
“Yeah, I am,” I tell him. “And no, I’m not going to get with you. You don’t look my type.”
Some of the guys snicker at his disappointed face. Molly gives me a questioning look and I just shrug.
“Well, aren’t you feisty?” Josh says, his eyes trailing down my body. “And sexy.”
I purse my lips together. “Look, buddy, I won’t be getting with you either. In fact, I won’t be getting with any of you.”
They all look depressed at my words, not that I care though. Molly smirks at me.
“Okay then. Can we at least know your name?” Another boy asks. He has white hair and blue eyes. I hate to admit it but he looks quite attractive, with his hard features and good build. Honestly, they all look attractive. They must be part of the popular group.
They nod their heads and I wait for them to tell me theirs.
When they don’t tell me their names, I can tell there must have been some miscommunication. “Your turn.”
Quickly, they all step in to tell me their names. Josh introduces himself first, then the brown haired guy who tried to get with me first. Turns out his name is Luke.
Then the white-haired guy who I find very attractive. His name is Lawrence. A nice name for a pretty guy.
The last one to introduce himself looks more apprehensive. I give him a reassuring smile and he seems to feel a bit more comfortable. Like Molly, he looks shyer towards new people.
“Nice to meet you guys. I’m guessing you’re all athletes?” They nod their head and I continue. “Football?”
Once again, they nod their heads and I smile in triumphant. I’m great at guessing.
“Sorry, quick question that I have to ask.” Luke butts in, looking at me. “How the hell are you so pretty?”
I feel a bit caught off guard by his question. He said it like he’s never seen anyone pretty before. I know I’m not ugly but I’m not that pretty. I bet there are people here who are super gorgeous, like model gorgeous.
“Uh...I’m not that pretty,” I say and before Luke can protest, Josh jumps in. I feel quite thankful so I send him an appreciative smile. I don’t really like people saying something that I’m not, it brings my hopes up.
“So Ava, where are you from?” Josh curiously asks me, mouthing a ‘no problem’ to me after. The others all look interested, including Molly. I forgot I hadn’t told her yet.
“Well, I moved from Cali but I was born in London,” I tell them. Molly looks a bit shocked at the London part.
“Really? London, that’s so cool. I thought I could hear a British accent.” She claims, smiling at me.
Yeah, I still have my British accent, which people find attractive. Not sure why. I hate it.
I’m happy I didn’t lose it though, it reminds me of my grandparents who live there. We only visit them once a year because it takes so long to get there.
“What’s California like?” Lawrence asks me; before I can answer him, Luke and Harry also fire questions at me.
“Why did you move?”
“Are you staying here for long?”
Before I can answer their questions, the bell goes off.
“Well, I guess we’ll see the both of you at lunch,” Luke says, waving goodbye to us.
Molly and I also walk off to history, my mind slightly dampening. I’m happy that I made some more friends who seem accepting.
Maybe moving here was a good idea.