Reality is for losers.

This is California.

Annabelle POV:

Driving along side of the beach in a convertible with my posse while we sing along to California Love because we are uncontrollably the shit. There are no other people in the U.S. that can compare to how badass we Californians are. With our summer tans and Raybans.

Or so that was what my life was expected to be like. I don't mess around with bullshit like that unless it's legitimate. The only type of malarkey I enjoy is shit talking.

Don't get me wrong; I am a very friendly person. I might annoy some people in the effort of expressing my friendliness but you can't exactly insult me. One could hate me or like me, however I come across.

As a junior in high school, it is my responsibility to stop giving a fuck. I know, it's a paradox but get this, I'll do the work and relish in my remaining years of simple school. I am on the volleyball, cross-country, and swim team with the extra position as this year's ASB Treasurer. Occasionally, you can see me at the football games in the pit with the rest of the school.

My mom calls me her social butterfly, but after all the activities to keep me from boredom, I really just want to sit in my room with my dogs and watch Hey Arnold whilst eating chocolate, fruit rollups, and drinking cream soda. My lovely mother is currently pressuring me to get with her friend's son, who is semi attractive but is mainly queer-bait. I personally know this because I have a brother who has taught me the basics of 'cool' subconsciously. If this kid didn't act like such a loser, he could be extraordinarily attractive.

My friends understand where I'm coming from. We enjoy making fun of each other's boyfriends and influencing each other to do stupid things in which we might go around talking shit. I do not approve of some of their current boyfriends that are not in their league and we've discussed it many times, but 'it's the personality' they always say.

Registration is tomorrow and I'm dreading every part of it. From saying hello to people I don't give a shit for, to standing in line for the ID cards, the schedules, and the councilor meetings. It's a bunch of simple things that could be sent in the mail or something out of the way. Let's just say I'm not into it.

I looked over at my mom who had her mouth wide open while she slept on the couch next to me. My attention turned back towards the television of some show about hoarding, it was really depressing and giving bad vibes.

I sighed and checked the time, remembering that I had to be at the school by 11am, which kind of leaves me an hour to get ready in the morning when I wake up. I left my mom and got ready for bed with the usual routine of washing my face and changing my clothes.

As I slipped myself under the down comforter and closed my eyes, I loved my bed at that moment. My phone buzzed indicating a notice from Facebook or an email. I moaned at the remembrance of why I was in bed and who could be talking to me.

"I don't like you, go away," I grumbled into my pillow.

When my dog jumped up on the bed and snuggled close to me is when I finally drifted to sleep.

"Annabelle," My mom came barging into my room.

I immediately shot straight up in bed with wide eyes searching for the time.

"What time is it?" I panicked, looking up at my mom who was still in her nightgown I got her from Disneyland.

"Nine-thirty," she answered as she hung up some of my laundry in my closet.

I relaxed for I knew I had thirty minutes to wake up. I laid back down and pulled the comforter up to my chin with my legs all screw up in it.

"Don't sleep in," she threatened, "I'm not coming back to wake you up."

I did happen to drift back to sleep but not before my mother could come back in.

"Bella!" She screamed with her hands now on her hips.

I was up and out of bed then getting clothes so I could shower in the aftershock of two seconds. Adrenaline now had me awake.

"Okay," I breathed, "okay."

I needed something that would come out okay in the yearbook and my ID card so I chose some high-waisted shorts and a white-cropped tee that had a tropical print of blocked LOVE.

"Here we go Annabelle," I sighed as I hopped into the shower.

Once I was finished with moisturizing, spraying, putting on make up, and combing wet hair, I made my way to grab a yogurt and look for a granola substance.

"That's not breakfast, Bella," Mom acknowledged as she walked into the kitchen. She looked at me with warning eyes.

Irritated, I replied, "Leave me alone mom."

Back in eighth grade I had a weight problem. I loved food and I still do, at least the tasty kind. I didn't like to do much but read and play on the computer for hours on end until my mom gave me self-esteem issues. She called me fat and grabbed my thighs, saying I was growing before her eyes. So in order to slim down, I stopped snacking and would eat half a healthy meal three times a day. I did 100 sit-ups in my room every night for a year until I felt my stomach was as flat as could be.

I like to hike now and go surfing, as much as a stereotypical Californian can. My dad taught me how to surf when I was four and that's how we bond now. He works most of the time as a cop, always patrolling around. I do have to watch myself in our town, incase my own father might catch me smoking pot or something. Everyone knows my brother, Travis, has been caught green and sticky fingered. I am a much more careful and articulate person than Travis, if I do say so myself.

I brushed my teeth and checked my appearance in the mirror. When I do this, my brain sometimes picks up on my best features, such as my butt (being that I'm partly Puerto Rican), my small frame, nice curves, flat stomach, no anorexic thigh gap, Audrey Hepburn eyes, clear skin, small feet, root beer hair, and thick lips, package deal. Right? But I see my flaws such as my white skin, slightly plump nose, no long legs, my shortness, straight hair, and c-cup boobs. I didn't want to dread on my body though so I make the best with what I have and thanked God for blessing me.

I got a good luck from my mom as I headed out the door to my white Elantra. I walked right through the grass, getting my sandals wet and grass stuck on them.

"Freaking A," I grumbled and slipped inside my car.

I made the executive decision of going through Starbucks on the way to the High School.

I knew Lauren was going to be there around the time I was because of our last names starting with R so I ordered her one of her favorite drinks, caramel macchiato, and myself a green tea frappuccino.

I suddenly remembered what my mother said the other day when the teenage boy handed me my drinks. It was something about how the boys from sophomore year were going to look manlier junior year. Then she told me not to drool, after thought. I contemplated about who would look sexy now that puberty has completed its course. Jack definitely was going to look nice, already knowing him and his body. I like to walk in on the boys' locker room a lot; they don't seem to mind, I actually think they like it. I do jokingly eye flirt with Jack and Cody quite often. Cody was already beautiful, hopefully his minor case of acne cleared up though. Austin was my full-blown-out crush all of last year and was going to be a Senior this year, so he was already to the best of his looks. I couldn't think of anyone who could improve without a whole makeover, not just 'becoming a man'.

I parked my car, scanning the parking lot for the usual group of Lauren, probably Zach, Chris, and Hannah, maybe Tony, Brian, and Rachel too. I spotted all of them, some sitting on Zach's truck and others standing or leaning on the car.

Shit, I should have bought extra drinks.

Lauren was my best friend though so, they should know why they don't get squat.

"Sup, bitches," I grinned, handing Lauren her drink.

Everyone mumbled or greeted me with a 'hey' or 'how's it going'.

Lauren gave me a knowing look and said, "Thanks Annabella-boo, you da best."

I smiled at her and kicked my foot, shuffling the pebbles.

I discussed with Tony and Hannah about who lit part of their house on fire in protest of not being able to go on a vacation. Lauren was, indeed, loving on Zach when I saw her making her flirtatious moves on him, I gave a little hoot that only she would know. I loved Brian, he was a super big guy that was also super sweet. I gave him the biggest hug and he picked me up but obilivously threw me down. I sort of crossed my feet and swayed as I caught myself until I quickly stepped back so I wouldn't fall. Only I slammed myself into this really tall and solid kid, making him stumble sideways into his friend.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry," I laughed as Zach and Chris were cracking up.

He is too cute and look at that jaw. Holy shit man. Broad shoulders and curly hair, you are simply amazing, sweetheart.

As embarrassment settled in, my face felt warmer.

"Oh no, it's cool," He reassured with his own blush, "I mean, it's fine. Yeah, um, don't worry about it."

I held back a visible smile and touched his arm and let it fall. I was trying to capture his eyes with my own but his mouth was placed in a thin line and he looked up briefly, nodded, and smiled, mumbling a bye.

I pouted and spoke, "Alright, I guess I'll see you later," and mumbled, "skater."

I saluted him, admiring his butt in the process as he left. I turned to Brian and slapped his big tummy with a scolding face.

Rachel was giggling her unique giggle and Hannah was giving me the A-OK sign with a wink.

"He was cute," I stated and responded to Hannah with a head nod and a nose crinkle.

Lauren jumped off the truck and wrapped an arm around my collarbone form behind.

"Is he your new boy toy?" She crooned, swaying me side to side.

"Pshh, you know it," I sarcastically answered.

Who actually was that? Wait, he kind of looked like the Jew-fro kid in my art class last year. What's his name, hmm, Noah? Morgan? Shit.

"Are you ready? I want to get out of here," I announced, already grabbing my bag and walking with Lauren as she nodded into her drink.

"See you next week guys," I called back.

"Fuck you Annabelle," I heard Zach yelled. I raised my middle finger to them as I heard a chuckle directly behind me. I jumped and turned to see good ole Jack.

"Holy shit, Jack," I examined him, "You look nice. How are you?"

"Great, how's Bohemian Bella?"

Oh yeah, I forgot about that. Thanks, you asshole.

"Dandy," I mumbled, "Listen Jack, don't start that shit again. I'll fuck somebody up if I hear Bohemian Bella one more time."

I shook my head, irritated. I was somewhat of a hippie but when everyone, even freshmen, started calling me that I just wanted to shoot up the school. I think Austin started it in my art class sophomore year; I naturally loved it because he gave me a nickname but then the hippie teacher started calling me that and the lower classmen thought it would be cute to 'know' me with a name like that. I couldn't stay mad at him though, he complemented my work frequently and I let myself believe he was trying to flirt or something.

Jack laughed and side hugged me from the waist but not without sliding his hand on my skin under my shirt where the shorts and the tee lapped over. I abruptly pushed his hand down, hoping he was messing around.

I laughed an annoyed laugh, "Get out of here Jack," I dismissed him.

"Okay, okay," Jack smiled, "Later Lauren."

"Bye, faggot," she didn't even look up from her iPhone.

We ran into some other people that were annoying and wanted to talk about dumb things like how drunk they got at a party or that they had sex. What I care about is whether crazy shit happened or who happened to be this scandalous with them. Not 'ayyy I got so drunk at a party, I don't remember shit!' no go fuck yourself, you dumbass.

Lauren and I eventually made it out alive and wanted to head back to her place for some ping-pong. We found out we have AP US History, Anatomy, and AP English III together, which are three out of seven periods, not including open period.

We took my car, since her parents dropped her off at the school, and I serenaded her with the Dixie Chicks while the windows were down. I can sing pretty good but I don't like to 'attempt' in front of people, so I was horsing around and loudly singing There's Your Trouble as she screamed at me to stop. I had to wait for somebody backing out so everyone walking by could see us and hear me as I laughed and sang. Lauren hated being embarrassed and country music as it changed to I Can Love You Better. I spotted the former Jew-fro and pointed at him when he saw me.

"You're going to see what you mean to me, so open up your eyes because seeing is believing!" I danced and took off when a car honked at me to go. I was pleased to have kept his startled face watching me, along with his laughing friend.

"You're an idiot," Lauren grumbled.

I pulled along the curb of her beautiful house and got out. As we headed into her house, she handed me a drink and made our way down stairs to the game room. Let me just say that Lauren has quite a lot of dough. As in money. She's rich.

"Who was that kid I impacted and sang to today?" I wondered out loud to Lauren as I took a sip of cherry coke.

"That was Jew-fro!" She exclaimed, "You didn't recognize him? Yeah, he looks good with his new hair cut and proactive face."

She creepily grinned at me. Sending me to roll my eyes and smile, remembering his ruby lips gapping at me. Ugh, hot. Imagine kissing those, tasting like cinnamon. Whoa, contain yourself Annabelle. How did you not see him before?

"What happened?" I remarked, "You can't go from Jew-fro with pimples and a weakling's body to that hot babe."

I was frustrated for not acknowledging his beauty before somebody had gotten to him and most of all not knowing his name. This guy was going to get girls like there's no tomorrow and I can't compete or even greet him with his name.

"Who cares? He's as sexy as the British," Lauren observed. She lifted herself up on the bar counter to search in the cupboards for ping-pong paddles and balls.

"The British are sexy," I agreed, coming into the light of Lauren's state of mind. "What's his name though?"

"Fuck should I know," She huffed, jumping down and sliding me a ball and paddle.

"Alright, let's do this," I raised my paddle indicating war.

"Rally, rally, rally!" Lauren hooted, jumping up and down.

"Damnit, I'm jealous of your boobs," I complained, bouncing the ping-pong ball across the table.

All she did was giggle and raise her hands up to say 'what are you gonna do'.

What am I going to do?

Hey baby, how you doin'?