Blood money, blood money
How did you afford this ring that I love, honey?
"Just another shift at the drug company."
He doesn't think I'm that fucking dumb does he?
It doesn't matter what you pull up to your home
We know what goes on inside
You call that ass your own, we call that silicone
Silly girl with silly boys

"Eat."

"Back off."

"Eat." 

"I did!"

"You did not!" 

I ignore Ellery as I slip into the garage, nothing but a Fuze tea in my hand and my schoolbag. Seconds later my sister races outside but I'm already in the passenger seat with earphones in.

She gets in beside me and starts yelling, but I can't hear her over my playlist. On my phone screen the named of the collection stares back at me.

Tim. All the songs that remind me of Tim. The playlist if perfect. 

Suddenly one of my earpods gets ripped out of my ear.

"Ouch! God- Why do you care about what I'm eating?"  

"Because you look like a praying mantis! And I'm worried about you!"

It looks like it pains her to say it. Instantly I feel bad because I didn't even think that it would upset her so much. The angry expression I held simmers to something softer as I glance between her face and the mega granola bar she's shoving at me.

Rolling my eyes I reach out and take it, opening it up with an irritated sigh and biting one corner off. I shove my earpod back in and melt further into the car seat as she starts the car.

It tastes alright- it's not perfect, but I'm not hungry so my motivation to chew and swallow diminishes the closer we get to school

Ellery is watching me like a hawk, so I begrudgingly force myself to eat it. When she pulls up to the student school park I murmur a goodbye and throw the empty packet at her before I get out.

I shut my eyes and take a deep breath. 1...2....3...Perfect. 

Deep breaths and a reprieve puts my indifferent expression back on my face. A few more seconds of repeating the words and I am able to get back into my usual strut.

It's a later morning than my usual start. On Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays I start before 7 for ballet, but today we're here when there's a bit of a crowd already.

As I walk into the school's main courtyard, the first thing I see is McKenzie, Perrie and Rylie over by the water fountain in the centre; our usual spot.

Behind them, across the courtyard in the corner, is Tim, Bambi, Aiden, Lucas and Milan.

Teenaged girls are evil. Everyone's honest about that, right? So I'm smiling at Bambi as I walk towards the group. On my way I'll have to pass those three airheads.

Upon noticing I'm walking in that direction I see hope light up in Perrie and Rylie's eyes. Like, they're saying, she wants us back! It must look like I'm smiling at them. Not that I'm doing it on purpose or anything. That would be cruel.

I wish I were able to see their faces as I completely ignore them when I pass, continuing towards my real peoples. 

"Hey!" Bambi grins, jumping towards me to sling one arm around my neck. I try not to throw her off. If it was anyone else that'd be a different story.

"Look," Milan says, fiddling around with her phone before handing it to me. I look at her screen to find a Facebook picture by Rylie, posted last night.

It's a selfie with McKenzie and Perrie in it as well. The caption reads 'Getting rid of the fake friends and keeping my real girls close. #Blessed'. 

Reading it just brings a smile to my face. What an idiot.

I hand Milan's phone back. She stares at me with an odd expression, almost expectant. Bambi is too.

"What?"

They glance at each other before looking back at me, "What do you want to do about it?"

Send screenshots to people of every bad thing she has ever said about them. 

I nearly say it. I nearly state the plan there and then. But Tim is there, looking at me. The boys never really approved of the bitchiness that happened between the girls. They just ignored it.

Perfect girls don't take that kind of revenge. Perfect girls get their perfect boys back by being kind.

"Oh, I think they've had enough. Let's just leave it," I say lightly, rocking back and forth on my heels slightly. Bambi just nods calmly but Milan looks a little bit less than pleased. 

I see Tim's impressed expression out of the corner of my eye.

"On that note, Cole's been giving you evils for the past five minutes from across the yard," Aiden says, leaning on Bambi's shoulder. I don't turn around to look.

"I know, he's been doing that for a while now," I answer.

"Didn't call him after the date?" Lucas grins. There's something else in his eyes.

I laugh, "Like I said, I went to see the movie. Seeing him try to move on me was just a side benefit. Very entertaining."

With that, the bell rings, signalling the start of the day. I haven't even been to my locker yet. Monday, first class; Biological Science with Mr Roland and Tim, Jake, Brett, Lucas and Aiden.

"See you in class!" The boys say, running off. Bambi and Milan leave together, going to their core classes. They're not all AP, like Tim and myself.

Gotham Academy has higher standards than other. We start Advanced Placement early, with five classes four times a week, two electives and two free periods. I also take a 0 period class like Tim and Jake.

Calculus, Physics, Chemistry, Literature, Environmental Science and World History are my primary APs. Tim is the same, only without World History and instead Macroeconomics. We and Jake all have Computer Science as our 0 period.

My electives are dance and multimedia, whilst Tim's are Business and Entrepreneurship. 

"I'll walk you to your locker?" He suddenly says. I blink out of my reverie and realise we're both standing in the corner of the courtyard whilst everyone runs off to their first class.

Bouncing back from an empty expression I find myself smiling at him.

"I'd like that."

He returns the smile and instantly we both seem to remember the kiss the previous night. It makes my arms and legs feel slightly weak as we walk towards the corridor.

Side by side. 

The last thing I see before we walk into the school's main building is Cole staring on at the two of us in confusion.

"We get our test results back from Roland today, right?" I ask, starting the conversation with something easy.

"Mhm," he says, lips pressed together tightly before they break into a grin, "Who will win? The Queen of dance or the King of science?"

I elbow him gently with a smirk, "You're starting to sound like Brett."

He pretends to be greatly offended, placing one hand over his chest like it aches. I roll my eyes, laughing as we reach the second floor where my locker is.

He's perfect. 

The hallways are thinning in amounts of people. We'll probably be a minute late but Roland is pretty calm in that respect, especially on a Monday morning.

Tim leans against the locker beside mine as I open it up and put my bag on the bottom shelf. He peers into my locker curiously.

"Forgot how clean you keep everything," he notes, in reference to every file, booklet and assignment being perfectly placed in holders on the top shelf.

He reaches in and gently pulls on my literature book, so that it sticks out a few millimetres compared to the rest. I freeze in the motion of placing my Chem book in my arms, staring at the moved booklet.

....Nope. 

I push it back in and Tim smiles. 

{Kids are still depressed when you dress them up // Syrup is still syrup in a sippy cup}

"It has to be perfect, huh?" He says, looking down at me. I look up at him to glare, but then I'm taking notice of how close together we are. He's got one hand on the edge of my locker, almost crowding me in against the locker door. It's amazing.

"Well," I say lightly, "things are getting a little bit more to my flawless standard. Especially after certain events of last night."

I crane my head up and honestly I expect to be rejected. He'll blush and retreat and murmur about getting to class.

Instead I'm shocked when my ever boyish, ex-possibly-current-boyfriend moves down to meet me half way. Just as those pretty lips brush against mine and my own hand slides up to the back of his neck, I hear a shrill voice from the end of the corridor.

"Mr Drake! Miss Jackson!"

Tim's eyes widen and he tries to pull back, but my hand is keeping him there. It's Mrs Westneat, the Literature teacher. Smirking at Tim I dart forward and kiss him, hardly and for just a second, before drawing back and closing my locker door.

"Is something wrong, Mrs Westneat?" I smile politely. The hallways are empty now. Mrs Westneat is nice, I have nothing against her. She isn't perfect, but she is kind.

"I think you two know full well what the problem is! I know when your free periods are. What class are you supposed to be in?" She continues in a sharp voice, stomping towards us.

"Environmental Science. Tim was just helping me film my ballet routine for multimedia. I didn't have Bambi to help because of her detention. You can email Madame Dubois, if you'd like. We were just heading off to Mr Roland's class now," I tell her, no expression in voice or face.

She spends a moment staring at us with a piercing gaze I'd consider pretty scary. I know she won't email Madame Dubois though. There's a rumour that when a teacher tried to stop my sister from leaving class for a rehearsal, Madame Dubois completely destroyed them.

"You will hurry to your class, now," she says. Tim and I nod firmly with an obedient 'Of course', as we start to walk in the direction she came from. The literature teacher stalks past us. She stops at the top of the stairs to give one last menacing eye before descending.

As we slow our walk, I look up at Tim with a proud little smile, which he returns with a boyish chuckle.

"That was perfect. You always were a good liar," he says. The word perfect from him, specifically, sends a chill down my spine and tingles over my skin.

Immediately I stop walking when we get pass the window of another classroom. Tim stops ahead of me and turns around, concerned to ask what's wrong.

He doesn't get the chance because I'm grabbing his tie and pulling him down to me, kissing him the moment he's in range. At first it shocks him and he lets out a confused grunt. The confusion melts within seconds and he responds by pressing his free arm against my back.

Perfect. He said I was perfect. 

"Today," I whisper, breathless as we separate, "Tell her today that it's over. That you're not her."

He doesn't answer, eyes dazed as he stares at me in confusion and something else. It's a little disappointing. I try to hide from it by looking down, pushing my forehead into his blazer-clad collarbone.

 It's just a few second of that almost non-existent embrace, before I reach down, grab his hand and start running for Mr Roland's class. He might be chill but he's not entirely tolerant.

Knocking on the door was awkward enough, especially since it was opened. Immediately our table, crowded with the boys, starts whooping and whistling.

"Sorry we're late," Tim and I say to Mr Roland. He gives us a little frown, before nodding at the table as a sign that it's okay, but he's not happy.

I accept that and cross the room to the table of grinning idiots.

Usually I sit in the middle on one side, between Aiden and Lucas. Only, Jake has move there, meaning that I'll have to sit on the other side, between Tim and Brett.

They did it on purpose. They're probably expecting me to be mad, but as I slip into my seat I just smile calmly, which makes Brett lean across me to offer me a high five. I roll my eyes and humour him by lightly slapping my hand against his. Then, he offers Tim one.

Tim stares at him blankly, trying not to smile as the group fool is left hanging. Brett pouts, about to pull back but Tim finally returns the gesture, leaving the other grinning.

"Now that we're all here," Roland says, "You can come up in alphabetical order and I'll show you your ranking and score. From A."

I sigh and set my things down neatly on my desk, ignoring the knowing smirk Tim gives me.

"So..." Jake trails off with a little smirk, "Why were you two late?" His eyebrows move suggestively and they all seem to lean in at once.

Except for Lucas, who seems to not care.

"We just took our time is all," Tim says, before his name gets called. He gets up, walking to Roland's desk. As soon as he's out of range I lean in.

"Making out in the hallway," I murmur.

"Hell yeah!" Jake says, holding his hand out. I high five it enthusiastically, much to Brett's chagrin.

"Gotta tell Bambi," Aiden chuckles, pulling his phone out and typing behind Jake's back, out of the teacher's view.

I look at Lucas with concern, as does Jake. He's staring at the ceiling with his arms folded. He seems to notice that he's been noticed.

"Congrats," he says, trying to make it sound as light and fun as possible. It nearly works. Everything seems to shift when Tim slips back into his seat.

"Top of the class?" Jake drones.

Tim smirks, "Maybe."

I open my textbook to where we're supposed to work and start ruling a page. Just as I finish the first question, Roland makes it to the letter J and I'm first up.

When I reach his desk, standing across from him, he turns his iPad towards me and points to where I am on the score list.

"So you got a high B and-"

"What?" I interrupt Roland, who looks up at me in surprise. "A high B. That's still fifth in the class, Adelaide."

My happiness at rekindling with Tim comes crashing down. It all stops like hitting a wall of realisation.

I came fifth.

I came fifth.

Four people scored higher than me. 

Straight away I take note of the names; Tim, Aiden, Jake and another girl in the class named Claire. I want to rip the tablet out of his hands and slam-dunk it into the floor.

"H-How far have I moved down in the class?" I ask, softly and nervously. Luckily no one can hear from here.

Already I can feel my hand moving up to my head, towards the junction between my neck and shoulder. It must just look like a simple gesture to him. 

Deeply, they sink into supple flesh.

"You've gone from second to sixth," Roland says, softness in his tone like he's realising the fragility of the situation. Sixth. Tim, Jake, Claire, Aiden, probably another boy named Sean and me. 

Me. Sixth. In a class whose subject I know better than my own hand.

They're dug there, into my skin, where they belong when I am imperfect. The word makes my stomach roll. Imperfect. Imperfect.

"Adelaide?" Mr Roland catches my attention softly, almost looking like he's about to reach out and grab my arm. He can't see what's happening beneath my collar, of course, but I must not look okay.

"May I please go to the bathroom?" I ask softly, returning to my original state. 

Hide it. 

"Of course," he says, almost in an understanding, sympathetic tone. I hate it.

I know Tim's watching me, as I ever so calmly and collectively exit the classroom. As I walk upstairs to where the closest bathroom is, I must look so indifferent.

So indifferent, as I push the door open. So indifferent, as I enter the cubicle. Ever, so indifferent as I lean over, dry heaving. So indifferent as the granola bar Ellery had forced me to eat comes up alongside my breakfast shake.

So indifferent.

So imperfect.

Pill diet, pill diet, if they give you a new pill then you will buy it
If they say to kill yourself, then you will try it
All the makeup in the world, won't make you less insecure
You got weights in your pockets, when you go to the doctor's
Your favourite candy's cotton, that's why all your teeth are rotten
Silly girl, with silly boys