Chapter 1

[Elena Cole]

"Ugh! Dropping out of school has never seemed so appealing!" I lay my head flat on the table and make other frustrated noises.

We're sitting next to each other on the only lunch table not occupied, huddling together to not accidentally touch someone else's arm or leg in the other tables. With the amount of kids at Hewensburg High School more than 1,000, the school means for 750 people is making personal space a dream. Luckily, me and my friends were able to find a relatively good spot alone.

My friend, Sadie, gives my shoulder a pat in hopes to quell my frustration, "It can't have been that bad."

Hailey, Sadie's twin sister, pipes in, "Was it the Spanish test? God, that was so hard!"

I lift my head slightly and look at her with a mix of pain and annoyance. Hailey takes that as a cue to shut up.

"No. It's just Brooke again. Brooke is the devil incarnate." I open my lunch and take out a peanut butter sandwich.

Brooke Salier, a popular cheerleader, is as cliche as it gets. Team captain, blonde hair, blue eyes, she's a typical popular girl. And, obviously, no popular cheerleader is complete without a satanic streak and a hatred for everyone she deems beneath her.

I honestly don't understand what goes on in the minds of popular people. As someone without a shred of popularity and likable personality, I can't really relate to any of that stuff. For me, the only things that matter are my art, stupid AP classes I wish I didn't take, and my friends. Maybe popular people are all just born evil. Either way, It's hard for me to find a good reason, or a reason at all, for Brooke's torment.

"What was it this time?" Always dramatic, Hailey puts her hands on the table and stands up; eyes staring into my soul.

"She dropped her lunch all over my shirt!" I pull up my sweater to reveal the gruesome reddish stain on my white t-shirt. I had spent the first ten minutes of lunch trying to get as much of the stain off as possible.

Hailey gasps, "Oh my god! That's going to be so hard to get out! You're better off throwing that shirt away!"

She's not wrong; spaghetti on a white shirt is never a good combo. On my favorite shirt, no less!

Laying a tentative hand on my shoulder, Sadie says, "At least you had a sweatshirt."

I cross my arms, "Yeah, sure."

I take a bite of my sandwich viciously. Her bullying is hitting hard today. I have an art showcase after school and wore my best shirt, a white shirt with a rose on it. Just my luck that the first thing Brooke does is ruin it. My sweatshirt isn't as professional or pretty, but at least it doesn't look stained.

"I swear if that ruthless child treats me like crap one more time-" I ball up my fists.

"Yes!" Hailey squeals, "Release your inner frustrations!"

She stands on the table with a hand in the air. At this point, I'm surprised she's more popular than I am. I look around the room and see all eyes on us, people laughing to each other and pointing. I don't know how she does it, the confidence. I sometimes wish that I could be like that.

"God, you guys are so dramatic, why am I friends with you?" Sadie sighs and sinks under the table. Sometimes she can be such a hypocrite.
I've been friends with Sadie and Hailey since middle school after me and my family moved to Hewensburg. After a terrible first day, AKA my first meeting with my arch nemesis, they had both found me crying my eyes out on the school's front steps.

They both took pity in me that day and bought me ice cream from a local custard shop. After that, we exchanged numbers and texted constantly.

It was nice to have someone looking out for me. My younger self couldn't recall a time before that where someone had my back unconditionally. So, in a sense, you could say I owe them for making school bearable and a bad day good.

Do I still owe them? Heck no. For two twins that take theater they have a surprising amount of procrastination skills. I've had to help them with so many homework papers, I'm surprised that they have passing grades in all their classes.

"Elena!" My thoughts snap back at the sound of literal snapping in my eardrum.

"What the heck was that for?" I bark. The harshness is from a place of love, and the fact that I can still hear ringing in my ears.

"You zoned out." Sadie says. She looks at me with a laugh on her lips, "I asked you a question and you didn't answer."

"Was it a boy? Please tell me it was a boy!" Hailey grins.

"You are so boy crazy! There's more to life than some random guy you're infatuated with." Sadie groans.

I've never had a boyfriend. I just find no reason to have one. Besides, I'm a 5'5" brunette with ratty mid-length hair and dresses like someone twice her age. I'm not particularly charming or nice, so I'm sure that even if I caught some boys' attention, that it wouldn't last long.

However, I don't care much for boys anyway; it's not like I'm vying for attention, so this has never bothered me much.

"Relax guys. I am still happily single." I roll my eyes.

Hailey mocks me,"And intend to be that way until I'm thirty years old."

Sadie, clearly agitated with the current conversation, says, "Okay, what did you get on the Spanish test?"

Suddenly, the doors to the cafeteria open; bright red doors making way for the queen bee like she's a runway model and the cafeteria is the walkway. She radiates popularity with her waving to everyone like she's the queen of England. It's not much of a stretch, though. As she walks towards her table, people walk out of the path, creating an open area for her to walk through.

Brooke sits down next to her friends and they all give her polite hugs.

Then it's all smiles and waves, quiet, polite, laughter, just the right comments. It's all so fake that it just makes me want to gag.

Brooke Salier flips her long shiny blond hair over her shoulder (which is obviously exposed because why not shit on the dress code too). She's wearing a sweatshirt crop top with an 80s band she probably doesn't know a single song from with a toothpaste white skirt that looks more fit for a club than a school.

She radiates pop culture. Not a single shred of originality in that single brain celled organism.
As if sensing my thoughts, Brooke looks back at me with her bright blue eyes. With her smooth doll-like facade, she gives me a polite smile. My teeth grind together as she smirks and then returns to her table conversations as if nothing happened.

"What was that about?" Sadie asks. She looks as confused as I am angry.

"Are you sure that you didn't do something on your first day in middle school? Because that's one heck of a grudge she's holding." Putting her hands on her hips and standing up to get a better look at the dead zone (popular table), Hailey narrows her eyes in their direction,"That was some hardcore invisible fighting."

Even Hailey and Sadie are incredulous.

Honestly, I don't blame them. Brooke and I have been at each other's throats since my first day. At this point, I think it's more of a habit of rudeness than a singular reason.

Like I said, a walking cliche. Popular girls bully unpopular girls. At this point in my senior year, I doubt that it will change. Just a few more months and I'll be out of here and headed for college. I can survive until then.

"I don't know." I finish off my sandwich and take out my calculus homework. The teacher is notoriously brutal in homework loads and didn't fail to meet my expectations today.

Sadie looks at me for a moment longer and then turns towards her sister,"Hey Hailey, have you taken the Spanish test yet?"

Hailey starts, "Oh don't get me started on that thing!"

I zoned out for the rest of the conversation. I have a lot of things on my plate, and I'm not just talking about my calculus homework.