Miss Perfect
She appeared out of nowhere, head held high. Who did she think she was? She thought her endowment was SO great. Yeah, who cared if she was a fire monger? Light me a candle, build me a bridge and burn it. Who cared if she was wealthier than the Bloors?
Perfectionist, everything she did had to be perfect. She was in all of my classes, every single one! She was too busy showing off her perfectness to notice me. Not that I cared. Manfred Bloor noticed her first.
I bet he had dollar signs in his pitiless black eyes when she walked past. Blonde hair blowing back in a private breeze, ocean blue eyes set on the drama coat room. Her cape blew behind her like a purple wave.
The look in Manfred's eyes made me want to puke. Then one day I realized, she was an angel, an angel that would never go for someone like me. Take one look at her, and then look at me. I'm a mess. Dirty red hair, freaky yellow eyes, I'm like a stick or something.
"What's with you?" Manfred asks. I tare my eyes away from Emili Greene.
"Nothing, why?"
"You were looking at something."
"Can't a guy look around?"
Manfred rolls his eyes and looks back down at his trigonometry book. Mr. Rich Smarty pants is gonna go somewhere in life, unlike me. I can't even stay out past dusk. God, my life sucks.