A/N: OK, I'm crazy to put up a new story when I have loads which I need to update, but I wanted to know how this could work out on here. Please review and give it a chance!
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot and the additional characters :)
1
Someone once told me a story is sad only if you make it sad, like a memory. a memory could never be the same. You could twist it and snap it into a thousand fragments to build up what you thought was the perfection of that memory.
My memories, however, are not like that. If I had torn up my memories to make something new, then how would I be able to tell this story?
I was a regular visitor to the Principal's office. Much so, Father Domdecided to buy me a coffee and had it waiting for me every time he called me to the office. Sometimes, it was about stupid things such as pinning up leaflets about a certain girl doing a certain something with a certain someone…well, sorry, but if you don't want to be caught in the first place, then what's the point in doing it? You know you're gonna get caught!
I wasn't worried this time when the Principal's secretary came bustling into my English lesson and handed a slip to my teacher which asked for my presence in the Principal's office. I mean, how was I meant to know that this meeting was one to pretty much mess up my life for the next century or so? Even my grandchildren would be paying the debt of my foolishness. If I had knew so, I would have been legging it already and not waiting rather patiently in front of Father Dom's office, trying to eavesdrop on the conversation going on inside.
I guess Father Dom had ordered soundproof doors for some kind of reason because, frankly, I couldn't hear a thing except the low murmur of voices.
My bag swung loosely from my hand and I repeatedly kicked the wall in front of me out of boredom, my black trainers leaving marks on the white wall, but who cares? They buy and I wreck. Been like that since I moved here from God-knows-where.
I was kicking the wall for what seemed the twentieth time when the door opened and Father Dom – looking rather flustered, I might add – opened the door and handed me my cup of coffee along with three sugar cubes. He opened the door wider for me and I walked in, slumping into my usual seat in front of his desk, a plush leather arm chair with gold strings sewn around the edges.
I sipped some of my coffee and then looked at Father Dom, "So, I haven't bunked, skived or attacked in more than a week so I am obviously not in trouble. Why am I here"
"I just wanted to go over with you your schedule for next month," Father Dom proceed to take out a bunch of papers from the file with my name on it.
"Wait, I have a change of schedule?! Why? I've been behaving myself!" I exclaimed, glaring at the man in front of me.
"Susannah, we all know that when you haven't created havoc in some time, you're planning something. After all, you are the school's resident troublemaker." He arched an eyebrow at me. I sighed and leant back, gazing back at the principal with a look of utter boredom.
"So, what am I here for other than my messed up schedule? And do I have to take repeat classes for English? I'm not that bad!"
"Susannah, please relax. Anyway, yes, you will be taking repetition classes for English but you will have a new teacher next week, so I beg you, be nice. His name is Jesse De Silva, and he is just fresh out of college. I ask you not to create havoc when you do something wrong-"
"Who says it's me who's going to create havoc?"
"And I am asking to see less of you in this office after your new schedule is sorted." he continued, ignoring my remark. Hey, It's not always me who makes trouble! What about Paul Slater? HE wasn't a little mama's boy, you know.
"Fine," I grumbled, draining my coffee, "But I'm warning you: I won't stop standing up for what is right." At this, Father Dom burst out laughing. Did I say something funny? I'm sure I didn't say something funny.
"You may go now, Susannah, and throw the cup in the bin, not under the armchair."
"Damn, busted." I said under my breath but still managed to send Father Dom into fresh peels of laughter. What is wrong with the world?!
--
Melissa, one of my apparently 'evil' cronies - can you say, yeah right? - was anxious to know if we were, once again, busted.
Seriously. That girl has no worries whatsoever other than the word busted. I mean, yeah sure, I was going to do something bad but she wasn't going to get the blame. It would be nice to have someone worry about my welfare once in a while. How about that time I found out my three month long - a record for me - boyfriend cheating on me with my cousin, who hello? Was male. No one was there to avenge me, nuh-uh. I had to take matters in my own hands. And you might understand, things got nasty.
I rolled my eyes at Melissa, "No. Don't worry, he just wanted to talk to me about my new schedule."
"Oh, hey! Is that sarcasm I hear in Sugar's voice?" Well, tell me one teenager who was nice and understanding after a two year long court room sentence where their parents shouted at each other who didn't want me.
Yeah, you got that right.
My parents - or rather, my mother - thought that I was a) Unreliable, b) Too idiotic for my own good and c) Something a class down from a terrorist. All in all, I was the perfect daughter….Not.
"Shut it, Lucy. Sarcasm is my speciality, didn't you know? Now go get me a Low Fat Yoghurt. This Weight Watchers diet sucks." I handed Lucy ( A pretty blonde, and yeah, pretty dumb, too) a five pound note and smiled sweetly.
Finn, the only gay guy whom I accepted in my little group, smirked, "Love, I have no idea why you're having a diet when, frankly, you have the body of a model. Curvy in all the right places," I waved away his comment with a wry smile.
"Hey, you know me. Anything to keep that witch quiet," 'witch' was the little nickname Finn had labelled my dearest mother with, who - yippee! - was assigned to look after me until the age of eighteen. He hadn't believed me when I told him about the divorce the first time, but when he came to my house for a project - the only time I completed one - he was shocked to see that, yes, I was the little Cinderella. You know, the cleaning to do, the cooking, blah blah blah….
Finn snorted and shook his head, "Susannah, this ain't on. God, it's not your fault the marriage fell through! She should know that by now! Even Jake said so!" At the mention of my brother's name, I grimaced. Him and I weren't on the greatest terms right now. Let's just say it involved a nasty girlfriend with a personality the size of a nail file. As in, nil.
I shrugged, "Whatever. Not like I have a say in anything and- Oh my God, is that Paul?! What is he- and wait, is that Kelly? Lip locked with Melissa's boyfriend?!" I half shrieked. I whipped round in my seat to look at Melissa who looked so shocked, the yoghurt on her spoon was slowly dipping onto her pure white skirt. Finn, noticing this, snatched the spoon out of her hands and slid it into his own mouth, saving her from a major Fashion Breakdown. Because, you know, Melissa was the kind of girl to have a breakdown over some spilt yoghurt on her skirt.
I continued to stare at her as her mouth slowly opened and a scream like a banshee filled the cafeteria. You might understand, the whole place fell silent at once.
Taking over my Leader abilities, I stood up, and with my glass full to the brim of black coffee I stalked over to where the infamous Paul sat, tapped him on the shoulder and poured the lovely liquid on his equally lovely white Armani shirt. Hah, try taking that out of your precious shirt, baby!
"What the- Suze?! What the fuck you doing!?" He spluttered, standing up and trying to shake off the runny, black liquid off his shirt.
"That's for cheating on my best friend," I hissed, and pulling my arm back, I sucker punched him in the stomach. He went down like a girl, "And that, buddy, was for cheating on her with Kelly Prescott, in the school cafeteria," Paul was on his knees, wheezing, and all I heard from him was a meek protest like, "No, you d-don't understand,"
I mean, come on.
Kelly, on the other hand, looked absolutely horrified at having to watch her, ahem, new boyfriend bend over and spill whatever he had had for lunch over her white Chanel flip flops. Needless to say, she started screaming.
With a satisfied smile, I flounced out of the cafeteria, knowing full well that every eye was on me.
--
"Susannah, why is it that you always have to get into trouble?! Especially today, when you promised me just this morning I wouldn't be seeing you again!" Father Dom huffed.
I shrugged and frowned at my coffee, noticing that the sugar cubes didn't sink and melt as they should have, but they floated at the top, slowly turning from milky white to, excuse me, shitty brown.
"Susannah! I'm talking to you!" He slammed his fist onto the desk, trying to become Mr. Strict when really he was Mr. Soft.
I glanced at him curiously, "Yeah, I know that," I muttered. I wasn't bloody dumb!
"Then would you please, please, look at me as I speak to you? Don't you know any-"
"Manners young lady?" I finished off for him with a smile that made him drop his glasses. Oh, right! I still had the power!
Before Father Dom could say anything else, a soft knock sounded at the door.
"Come in," He called tiredly.
The door swung open and a man walked in. I say man, but he looked like a guy not any older than me. I gaped at him as he walked in with absolute ease and handed Father Dom a folder the size of my History ring binder…as in, very, very slim.
"Ah, Jesse, thank you." Wait, Jesse? As in, Jesse De Silva? The new English teacher who I have to take repetition classes from?
Oh, Bloody hell.
As the new English teacher turned to go, Father Dom called him back.
"Jesse, please stay. I want you to meet one of your class students, Susannah Simon. She will be one of the girls who have been assigned to take your Repetition Classes," I grimaced at the word and finished my coffee, "And she is our school's troublemaker. Don't get put off by her, she can be very attentive when she wants to be." I glared at Father Dom and threw the empty coffee cup at him, missing his head by inches. As he ducked, he laughed and waved me away.
"Off you go then, Susannah, hopefully I won't be seeing you again."
"Um, yeah right." I muttered, standing up and smoothing out my jeans. I heard the new English teacher laugh and I smiled brilliantly at both of them before grabbing my stuff and sweeping out of the room.
I swear to God that it's illegal for English teachers to be hot.
--
Thanks for reading and even more thanks if you review…;)
Love, Devilslawyer123