Following Tammy's outstretched, shellacked finger, I turned to see a glorious figure cascading down the grey stairs behind me. Shimmering blonde hair flowed effortlessly over her shoulders, as if she were an angel; but I saw a wicked glimmer in her eyes as she met my gaze. Claire Richards pierced through me with her intense stare, looking into my soul. I'd never met her, but I knew who she was.

She was who every boy fell for and who every girl despised. Yet they danced on hot coals to impress her. She was intelligent and very likely to be from a wealthy family. Teachers fell head over heels for her sweet girl facade, but we knew who she really was; she was a Princess, and Highschool was her kingdom.

She could get whatever she wanted with a snap of her fingers. She was a puppet master to anyone she could hold down long enough to put strings on. People knew who she was and what she could do, the power she had,meet they did nothing. They were afraid.

Her frightfully short skirt fluttered teasingly as she sashayed down the final step. A closed grin spread across her face as she trotted towards me and stopped almost a metre away, as if I would taint her gleaming bubble of perfection if she came too close.
"You must be Cameron!" She exclaimed in a falsely excited tone, as though she were speaking to a toddler and feigning interest.
"Cam." I retorted, not realising the venom in my voice until it spilled out.
"Oh, really? Your parents must have filled the form in wrong; the register said Cameron."
A lie.
"Well I doubt that, but sure."
She pursed her lips and looked me up and down. She was not happy.
"Well then," she said, her cheery nature diminishing by the second "We'd better get to form."

What have I done?