════════════════════════════════

❝He who does not have the courage to speak up for others cannot earn the respect from others.❞

════════════════════════════════

*NOT EDITED*

Chapter One

I LEAN BACK ON the couch, kicking my feet on the table in front of me. I sigh, unimpressed and bored; another party, the same old, same old. Running a hand through my soft hair, I look around at the large house crowded with teenagers from Kingston High.

It isn't like I have a choice in coming here or not. I'm part of 'The Royals'. Going to parties, looking glamorous, and keeping up my façade is one of my high priorities along with keeping up the good grades. Easy, I think sarcastically with an internal roll of my eyes.

"India!"

My head snaps to where someone calls my name. Ruby stands with Heidi, a smirk on her face.

"Tired already?"

"The party just started," Heidi adds with a giggle, wobbling on her high heels.

I turn around and exhale, giving them my back as I close my eyes before standing up to straighten my jacket. I walk back to two of the most popular girls in Kingston High, Heidi Forbes and Ruby Green.

"That's more like it, Indie," Ruby sniggers.

"Don't test me today, blondie," I say, raising an eyebrow.

She laughs meekly, clearly not finding it as funny as two seconds ago. We walk to the group of people by the ping pong table. Phoebe Yang is standing in the arms of Hunter Grey, her three-year boyfriend. They look cute together, but everyone in our group knows they aren't really into each other. It's just a show to give to the rest of the Kingston High population. After all, every student in the school is nothing than a mere puppet, dressing up to impress and entertain people like us, the populars. But in return, they expect us to be glamorous, ritzy, fashionable, and exciting.

Next to them stands Jeromy Beckett, the school's top athlete. When he notices that we're here, he looks up and genuinely smiles at me. Jeromy's the only decent one in our group that I don't mind being with. He doesn't make me feel like strangling myself with my own two hands.

"We were just about to start the game but we couldn't without our beer ping pong star," he says sarcastically with a smirk.

"Move aside, pretty boy. Let me jut show you what the beer ping pong star can really do." I step next to him, and bump him with my hips, making him move aside. He laughs and hands me the light, plastic ping-pong ball.

I stare concentratedly at the triangular-shape-placed, red, solo cups and raise my hand in the air. Squinting an eye, I take aim and carefully throw the ball, taking my time.

Of course, the ball lands in the farthest solitary cup. I smirk as the group cheers and I step aside so Hunter takes his turn. I cross my arms and face Jeromy with a smug smile.

"Show me what you got, pretty boy," I say, earning a chuckle from him.

He takes the ball from Hunter and I watch as he gets ready. Hunter stands beside me and crosses his arms. I notice, from my peripheral vision, him staring at me and I turn my face to him daringly, my eyes smoldering his grey-blue eyes.

I have to look up to him, seeing that he's more than a few inches taller, but my gaze never wavers. I may be 5'4 but my bold actions make up for it. He looks away and I internally smirk, turning my gaze back to Jeromy.

"Come on, you slow punk!" I yell and he flips me off. It takes him two more seconds before finally throwing the ball. It lands in a cup in the middle.

"Nice try." I clamp my hand on his shoulder and he rolls his eyes with a small smile.

"You rushed me."

"Mhm."

I leave them to go up to the bathroom, feeling the familiar suffocation return. The suffocation of feeling everyone's eyes on me, judging my every move. I have to make sure everything I do lives up to the standards of the highest classes in school.

I absolute hate it.

The stairwell is crowded and I have to push my way through the sweaty mass of people to get to the second floor. That's where the music is quieter and my mind is slightly cleared up.

Having memorized Phoebe's house, I easily find my way to the bathroom on the left. The door is unlocked so I turn the knob.

Except the room was occupied by a couple in the middle of having sex.

"Get out." I cross my arms.

They look my way, startled with expressions of horror on their faces.

"B-but-"

"Get out or I'll take you out myself," I threatened.

They oblige and quickly put their clothes back on. I recognize the sweaty, red-faced redhead as Quinn from my AP Algebra class.

I groan in disgust as they leave, still struggling to put their clothes back on. This is exactly why I hate parties.

I'm about to walk into the bathroom but decide against it. I don't think I'm ever going to walk into that bathroom again.

I walk deeper into the restricted part of the house where Phoebe's bedroom is. No one could enter it because it's locked with a special passcode that only the girls from our group know. That is one of Phoebe's biggest mistakes.

I punch in the numbers and hear the satisfying ping that signals that the door unlocked. I walk in the familiar, large, studio-like room.

Phoebe comes from one of the richest families in town. With sharp features that include narrow eyes and high, prominent cheekbones, chest-lengthened ebony hair, and a tall, fit figure, she's considered to be one of the prettiest girls in Kingston High. And that is the recipe for becoming the most popular girl in school: look gorgeous, have the perfect boyfriend, and be rich.

The room is big enough to fit two classes with peach walls, a puff king-sized bed, a large flatscreen hung on a wall, and a walk-in closet that's more like a mini-mall.

I step into the bathroom and lock the door behind me. Walking to the mirror, I breathe deeply and take in my reflection.

My straight sandy blonde hair frames my fair-complexioned face. Big, electric blue eyes in my reflection pop brighter in contrast to the black eyeliner and smoky eyeshadow surrounding them. The features on my face are all sharp, big, and cutting, and are complimented by my thick, beautiful eyebrows.

The suffocation that lessened returns again when I realize I can't wash my face unless I want to look like a raccoon with blonde hair and a leather jacket.

Taking a couple more deep breaths, I unlock the door and step out her room.

A loud, terrorized scream pierces my ear, making me stop short in my tracks. I shudder and close my eyes briefly before quickening my pace again.

When I get to the stairs, I realize that the music stopped. Taking the stairs two at a time, I scan the crowd for any telltale sign that might show the source of the scream, but it looks normal from far.

I reach the end of the stairs and walk to a cluster of people in the corner. Everything was eerily quiet and it tightened my stomach into knots. I push my way through the crowd until I reach the center of the mass.

The first thing I see is three people: Phoebe, Ruby, and April Robbins. The second thing I realize is that April is only in her underwear and her face is streaked with tears.

"What's going on?" I ask, my voice breaking the tense and heavy silence.

"Robbins, over here, decided that my white Louis Vuitton blouse needed some color. So she spilled the red punch all over it." Phoebe shifts to the other leg, her hand on her cocked hip.

"I-I swear it was an accident," she muffles a sob and I notice her hands shaking, "plea-please forgive me. I'll do anything. I-I'm begging-"

"Shut up, you whiny rat and listen to her," Ruby interrupts and slaps her harshly across her cheeks, the sound ringing through the whole floor.

I stay quiet because I can't speak. I'm not sure if it's from shock or. . . If I do, they'll also push me down with the rest. I'm never the one who steps on people like that, but I'm also never the one who stops it from happening. And that's just as bad.

"Take off your underwear." Phoebe crosses her arms and smirks.

"What?" April replies meekly with new tears streaming down her face. She looks at me, seeking for help, and I feel a pang of guilt as I look away.

"Take. Off. Your. Underwear," she replies slowly as if talking to a child. Ironic, seeing as how she's got a few inches on Phoebe.

I look around helplessly, trying to find Jeromy. Heidi's probably doing it with someone and even if she isn't, she won't try to stop it. Hunter also never interferes; he's always in his own world.

"Now," Phoebe demands, her voice snapping me back to them.

April sobs loudly and I realize it's not because of Phoebe's demands. She wet herself.

Phoebe bursts out laughing along with Ruby. They're the only ones close enough who can see it with me.

Please don't say it. Please don't say it.

"April Robbins wet herself. Look at that Kingston High-"

"Phoebe," I finally say loudly.

She rolls her eyes and turns to me. "Is our big badass turning soft?"

I raise my eyebrows at her and step closer. "You do not want to try me today."

"Or what?" she dares, taking a step closer so now we were standing only inches apart. Phoebe is -- of course -- noticeably taller than me, but I don't waver or flinch, looking her straight in the eye. Just like I did to Hunter. I'm really taking the expression 'keep your enemies closer' to a whole other literal level.

I shrug off my leather jacket and hand it to April, not breaking my gaze.

"Or you know what," I say.

Her eyes widen in surprise for a fraction of a second before thy narrow down again in a glare.

Like I said, it was a big mistake of Phoebe's to give me the passcode to her bedroom.

---------------------------------------------------------------

Author's Note:

Hey, guys! Here is the first chapter of HSL. I hope this gave you a little insight on the book and I hope you're loving it so far. I enjoyed writing it :)

Don't forget to VOTE, COMMENT, SHARE, and FOLLOW!