"She's here," Cheryl hissed in my direction, and I instantly knew that my hopes of finally graduating this year without any drama were up in smoke.

I had been stuck in Riverview Lakedale High School since 2011. Every year I hoped that it would be my final year, and I would try to live it as lowkey as possible, and every year, some brown-haired, hourglass looking geek or nerd would walk in all over my plans.

Nicole recoiled in disgust, "Where? What's her name?"

I had been through this template far too many times. Cheryl would point at her right, her magical red hair parting the sea of students and forming a 'Look Here!' symbol on top of the head of some not-so-special girl. Nicole would hiss some more, venom from her forked tongue accidentally killing some random kid (She had killed more than a dozen side characters over the years).

Just one year. I wanted to have ONE normal year.

"She's here," Nicole whispered into my ear. Her bad breath made me turtle into my pink designer jacket. I wish I could wear a sweatshirt and some yoga pants.

Cheryl and Nicole kept muttering 'She's here' at regular intervals. On the 34th time, I decided to turn from my locker. She would have reached us by now.

I groaned looking around, but I could not see her anywhere. It was quite easy to identify her, usually. She was always the one girl who got bullied for having long lifeless dark hair and sparkly blue/green/kaleidoscopic eyes hidden behind thick glasses. 

Soon, she would meet my brother, who in turn would loose all his inhibitions and add her name to the growing list of tattoos on his back. He would go from being a considerate, well-read, feminist 'bad' boy to a pretentious, chain-smoking, alcoholic, possessive bad boy. Aydan Ryder Cole, who did ice skating during summer would suddenly buff out into a skull-cracking football player after getting a whiff of her scent.

"Where is she?" I looked at both Nicole and Cheryl, one at a time. 

They were looking down, having taken their defensive positions already. Nicole's forked tongue was out, her acrylic nails suddenly turning a horrific shade of green. Cheryl's hair formed massive pitchforks behind her back, her eyes flashing maliciously.

I followed their gaze and found her.

At barely 3 feet stood the new girl, her figure making me seriously question my entire knowledge of biology that I had collected since 2014, when I had decided to actually start studying as a distraction of always loosing to the hoards of hers.

She looked like a toothpick with four balloons stuck on it to make up her breasts and rear end. She wore faded jeans (that accentuated her already very prominent hips further) and a baggy sweatshirt (that looked like it was one cry away from bursting at the seams thanks to her voluptuous boobs). Her hair was up in a messy bun, and rhinestones sparkled on the rim of her thick glasses, momentarily making me go blind.

She looked like a model from the fashion catalogue for the Oompa Loompa.

I decided to change my beginning speech again, despite experiencing the last five times that it would not help, "Welcome to Riverview Lakedale High School! I'm Faye Blair Slut Cole, the head cheerleader. You look new! What's your name?"

Nicole and Cheryl looked at me in confusion, but their defences did not drop.

The new girl looked up at me, clinging onto her massive bag so as to not blow away every time a student opened the doors to enter the school.

"I'm Rosewater Sunflower Applesauce Autumnwinters." She was already close to tears and I felt the situation slipping out of my hands, yet again.

"Your parents never heard of the word concise, huh? Probably for the best. They might have added that as a middle name, too." I muttered to myself. "Do you want me to show you around?" I tried to sound as sincere as possible, but an evil smirk made its way on my lips out of habit and Rosewater Sunflower Applesauce not-concise Autumnwinters burst into tears.

No, no, no, no, no. Please tell me this wasn't happening, again.

There were three to four standard responses that our not-really-good-at-anything heroines often gave. I often hoped that they, too, would break out from their mould, and do something new, like trying to befriend me. Hasn't happened since...nope. It has just never happened.

The crying was usually accompanied by-

"Faye Blair Slut Cole!" A growl thundered from Nicole's side, making her jump.

I closed my eyes, mentally counting down from 10. 

ONE year. How hard could that be after going through more than a dozen versions of the same high school with the same kids?

A six and a half feet tall shadow loomed over my head, and I groaned. Cheryl shrieked beside me, "Jacob Moon Moon McWolfie."

Jake ignored her and came towards us, facing against me. He helped Rosewater up and she dangled from his right bicep, staring daggers at us, like I had asked her for her kidney instead of her name. As if her cashew sized kidney would be of any use to me.

I rolled my eyes at the display. I knew it was my turn to make a scathing comment on Rosewater's incompetency at being self reliant and needing a saviour that looked suspiciously very much like a werewolf but she wouldn't really realise that until-

"Jacob Moon Moon McWolfie!"

There he was.

Edward Creepy Bloodsucker Vampish walked over to us, just as tall as (or maybe even taller than) Jake. Rosewater's eyes widened with recognition for Edward, but that dim light in her brain did not go off despite his pale white skin and his 3 feet long fangs (which were literally her size). 

How was I stuck in this nightmare?

"Edward?" Rosewater asked, her high pitched voice incredulous at seeing him. I wanted to assume that she was concerned at seeing a 117-years-old man in high school, but knowing Rosewater's intellectual capacities, she was probably just surprised at her luck of being in the same school as werewolves and vampires and cheerleaders with magical hair and forked tongues.

"Leave her alone," he growled at Jake, who also growled back. The breath from their growls made Rosewater swing on Jake's bicep like a dreamcatcher caught in a gale.

Ah, gale reminds me, that at least this version would not have Peeta and Gale in it. Those poor boys were always so traumatised, that we couldn't even invite them to watch the Bachelor's reruns during the summer. They were always asking when the contestants would start dying, and would start crying every time the contestants did something cute or professed their love.

But it was too soon to count my blessings. Rosewater could turn out to be a real pain in the ass and end up entangling with every boy in school. 

Jacob and Edward were still stuck in a stare-off, occasionally breaking into a growl-off, when the bell rang for the first period. It was already half past ten. 

Rosewater jumped down from Jacob's bicep and tried to pick up her bag. The weight turned out to be too much for her petit form to handle and she got crushed under it. 

Edward cried out in concern and quickly picked up her bag, swinging it over his shoulder, "We have the same class, Rosewater. I'll show you."

In all fairness, everybody had the same class. Edward, Jacob, my brother-Aydan, who was probably going to hulk out into another alpha soon, Draco, Loki, all members of One Direction, Jungkook, Jackson Wang, and so on. We had a really big class.

Jacob howled at the image of Rosewater leaning into Edward's legs and walking to class with him. He turned to face us again, "Faye, Nicole, and Cheryl-"

I rolled my eyes, internally dying from the cringe dialogues that I knew were set to come my way soon.

"Yeah, yeah. We trouble her, we die," I quipped sarcastically. "Honestly Jake, could you at least try to be more creative?"

"I was about to say- you trouble her, you die...gruesomely!" He smirked with victory, watching Nicole and Cheryl shuffle uncomfortably beside me. McBaddie Wolf had scared them, oh no.

"Oh, yeah, sure," I uttered walking away, "So much more scary! Shiver me timbers!"