Drama. D-R-A-M-A. The word I live for. Drama. As I was trying to fall asleep that night all I could think of is what lies ahead for the new school year. Drama, I hoped. The one thing that made my world go 'round. It was the one thing I hated being left out of more that inside jokes. Drama. Yes, I loved this word, and it seemed much nicer than the word gossip. But my gossip wasn't gossip. It was straight to the face. All I had to do was walk up to people and make fun of then. It was hilarious. Some of the girls would try to pounce, though. But if they did they would raise hell. No one messes with Halley.
If they did it was social suicide for the rest of the school year. And who wanted that? Also if someone did pounce my friends wouldn't let it happen. As it says, "If you died, I wouldn't be at your funeral. I'd be in jail for killing the bitch who killed you." OR the other one, "A good friend would call you if you were in jail. An even greater friend would come and visit you. But a true friend would be sitting next to you screaming, "Let's do that again"." OR the other one that fits this situation perfectly, "If someone made fun of you a friend would make fun of them back, but a best friend would best the shit out of them." After I'd make fun of someone to their face the person would scream nasty insults back. But then my friend Amanda would take them out behind where the boys at out school have body shop. The girl would come back with her hair in knots, fingernails broken, and every once in awhile, depending on what the person said to me, a black eye. This sounds kind of guyish, but that's Amanda for you.
I was a blode with blueish grren eyes. They were my best feature. I was the second prettiest girl at my school and was the alpha all the years I've been going to school. Now that I'm a freshman, I'm one step closer to becoming the alpha of the school, unless something psycho happens.
Amanda was a tough brunette and all around sports loving girl. She was the least prettiest of all my besties, but she made up for it by being able to talk to the guys about sports and crap like that.
Then there was Kayla the all around boy crazy one. The prettiest, but dumbest of my friends. I knew she was prettier then me, but she lacked something I had. Charisma. I would do anything. I was a dare devil. She was blonde and had pretty blue eyes. She was gorgeous. All-American.
Then there was Jenna. The pretty, petite, natural bleach blonde girl. She was a friend that didn't judge. The one you can always count on to be there when you nee d a shoulder to cry on. Like when my grandma died. She was there. When I get stressed over cramming for exams she always brings vanilla scented candles to my dorm. But, for some odd reason she wasn't my best. Yes, she was true, but I always liked the ones that judged.
Like Kristy and Monica. Kristy was an eighth grader, but we had been friends since she was three and I was four. It didn't matter, though. She was a brunette with brown eyes. She followed me to boarding school when I went into seventh grade. We missed each other way to much to stand the distance. We were best friends. She was one of the prettiest eighth graders, so I wasn't surprised when one of the guys in my class tried to grope her. I socked this guy in the eye. (He still hasn't forgiven me.) She always judged me about the choice of my friends. I'd grown accustomed to this and barely even noticed when she elbowed me in the gut when Kayla hopped into yet another guy's car a couple of days ago. We were practically family.
Then there was Monica. Her eighth grade besty. Who I'd grown to be friends with over the years. I finally accepted her a year after we met. At first I was jealous (not that I'm admitting it to anyone.) She had a friend that wasn't me. Monica has fiery read hair and mint green piercing eyes. Kristy met her the first class of the first day of school when she was in sixth grade. Shows how easily she can make friends.
It took me awhile to pick my friends. They had to point out my perfections, but they also ended up pointing out my flaws, too. With Amanda it showed that I was feminine, but it also showed that I was terrible at sports. With Kayla it showed that I din't need a guy to make me happy. This was good and bad, because then I didn't get as much boy attention. But if I wanted it I could have it. With Jenna it showed that I was loud and abnoxious. This was both bad and good. And with Kristy and Monica I didn't care.
My friends and I had just spent the week together (we all lived in different states except Kristy and me.) We had done this last year and wanted to do it again. All of us were going to stay until the twenty-fifth, when we were supposed to be up at Geneva Boarding School. We got to do this because since during the school year we stayed in dorms. Our parents let us go to a town right by the beach that is two hours for GBS. Right now it was the twenty-third, well technically the twenty-fourth. School didn't really start until the thirtieth, but we all had to unpack and participate in all of the "fun" school activities to welcome all of the new people. But I didn't want to leave the beach house, not even for the nice purple, pink, and blue dorms at GBS. But it had to happen, right?