Tick, tock, tick, tock
Just a little closer!
Tick, tock, tock
Five, four, three, two, one…
RIIIIINNNGGG!
My classroom exploded as all twenty of my fellow twelfth grader classmates sprung from their seats, snatched up their worn math books, and flung them haphazardly into their satchels, until I alone remained. I sighed, finished my problem quickly; and calmly and slowly began to close all of my books, my pencil case, and my notebook full of my observations and pack them away in my black backpack. The teacher, Mrs. Corrine, rapped her nails against the wooden desk, obviously impatient at my blatant refusal to run around like a chicken with my head cut off. "Cleopatra? Are you quite done? The bell has rung already," she chirped, trying to put on a show of happiness. How bizarre.
"I know that, Mrs. Corrine, I am neither deaf, nor blind to the fact that the second I leave the room, Mr. Nate is going to enter the room from that window with assistance from his Jynx." I flung my finger out to the side and gestured to one of the larger windows on the side of the building facing the parking lot, "I'll be gone in just a minute." I shouldered my bag and slid over to the door. I turned back for just a second, "He's married." And I was gone, leaving Mrs. Corrine to gape stupidly like a Magikarp.
Another strike against my less than satisfying relationships with the teachers of this hellhole. Yay!
I never expected much from my life, school for six or seven years, maybe less, then college; a breeze, what could challenge me anymore? And then a job. A stupid job that would bore me to death. How monotonous. Life is either boring, horrific, or sad. Very rarely is it happy, but those moments are to be treasured. My phone buzzed against my thigh, reminding me it needed to be charged.
When I was small, ten to be exact, on my birthday, my Momma gave me that phone. I still had it. The only contacts I had was my momma's at the time. I remember that day perfectly. I remember everything, but that day was in color. Pulling my simple green flip phone out of my pocket, I scrolled through my contacts- two to be exact- and clicked my mother's icon. A single text lit up the screen.
To: Cleo
From: Mommy
Hey, Baby! I hope you like the new phone! You better use it when you're traveling the world, winning ribbon, after ribbon, after ribbon! I'm so proud of you! :) Even if you're far, far away, I'll be watching over you. Love, Mommy
I sniffed loudly. I hate my birthday. I hate it, hate it, hate it! I watched her. Only ten and I watched my life crumble before my eyes.
"Hi Mommy!" I waved cheerily from the steps of my elementary school. She glanced up from across the road, and a beautiful smile broke across her face.
"Hi, Sweetie!" She walked across the road, arms outstretched to hug me. A car, a black car with neon colors splattered all over it, came hurtling down the road, so much faster than the limit. She never even saw it coming. But I did. The red of her blood stood out, so bright against the white of the cot the medics placed her on. They wheeled her into the ambulance; Chanseys rushing to stay by her, taking her blood pressure and her vital signs. I never saw her again, except at the funeral, but right before the doors blocked her from my view, her hand moved weakly and dropped something on the ground. And she smiled. I walked slowly to where she had dropped a pink ribbon with a golden crown on the muddy ground. Picking it up with a trembling hand, I clutched it to my heart, and made a promise. "I swear, Mommy. I'm going to be the best."
That promise was never kept. I was tucked away in a special school for the advanced, but I was transferred quickly. Apparently, teachers don't like a child who can tell all their deepest, darkest secrets, just by looking at them. So here I am. Whiteside High school, also know as Clique Capital. You have the 'populars,' 'jocks,' 'nerds,' and of course, the 'I don't belong anywhere,' people who, true to their names, don't belong in any group. One guess to where I belong. You guessed it, the poor sucker's group where any person I engage with is ostracized immediately. Lucky me. I don't care though, it's not like I have any desire for friends or popularity. I'm not going to be here much longer. I sighed, and flipped my phone shut. Lunchtime! The only brightish spot of my day.
I pushed on the double doors of the cafeteria. The second everyone looked to see who entered the large cafeteria, a wave of silence washed over the entire room. No one in his or her right mind would cross me. I am the devil of the school; you want something done, you ask me, but for a simple price: a secret I don't already know.
Gracie, a sophomore 'popular' stood up, a new boy toy on her arm. With platinum dyed yellow hair that washed over her shoulders and vivid purple eyes, she was spectacularly ugly, but no, according to any guy, she was 'gorgeous,' 'hot,' and 'show stopping.'
"Why, hello Cleo! How's your day going? Oh, have you met my new boyfriend, Branson?" I gave her boyfriend an up down. Smudge of lipstick on his sleeve, not Gracie's shade, girl's socks- how does one miss that?- and is that a hint of perfume I detect? (Also not Gracie's) I may despise Gracie, but I'm not that mean.
"Just how long have you been going out?"
"About a week… why?" Good, she's learned to answer my questions, even if she's suspicious.
"He's cheating. Dump him now."
"What?" I gave a long sigh, though internally I was smiling. I just love proving Gracie wrong.
By now the entire cafeteria was listening, and Branson was looking very uncomfortable, "The smudge on his sleeve. It's lipstick, a shade you don't wear, plus he's wearing girl's socks, and can't you smell the perfume? Actually the only girl who wears that perfume is…" I looked around the cafeteria with a closed eye, "her." The girl I pointed to jumped and looked very guilt-ridden.
"No way. Branson, she's lying right?" Gracie pleaded, clutching the arm of her completely guilty boyfriend.
"Er, well, uh…" he stuttered and looked down shamefaced.
"Katherine!? You picked Katherine over me!? I can't believe you!" Gracie dropped his arm and slapped him across the face before stalking over to join her clique, who all offered words of condolence and sympathy.
Great. How many relationships have I ruined now? Let's see…. there was that one with Chucky, Carrie, Drake, Deedee, Simone, Callie, Simon, Dorothy, Frank and Mark, that was awkward… I've lost track. Gracie picked herself up and walked saucily over to the only guy who hadn't looked even remotely interested. Gryphon. Eugh. With spiked, long, dark blue hair that draped over his piercing, sarcastic emerald eyes, he was definitely 'hot,' in the words of every girl in the school. I still don't get why I don't see it. Females surrounded him, all drooling over his every action. Shameful.
"Hey, Gryphon, I was wondering-" she started, blinking 'cutely' at him. Fangirls hissed at her.
"No," he said bluntly, cutting her off before she even finished asking him out. He just gained points in my book.
"But..."
"No."
"But-"
"No."
"Oh, come on, Gryph, you know you want to," she said seductively, running her pastel pink fingernail down his well-muscled arm. With a look of pure contempt, he smacked her hand away, earning even more points in my books. We can't have this, gain a few more points and I'm going to actually have to tolerate him.
"Don't touch me Grace." And he brushed past her, followed by hordes of fan girls. Taffy joined me silently.
Taffy is my best friend, has been for five years, ever since her mom picked me up after I watched my mom killed right in front of me. She let me stay at her house and contacted me dad, who had no idea where I was and didn't really care. Taffy had sat behind her couch for thirty minutes before gathering up the courage to talk to me. One word, and we were inseparable.
"Hi," She muttered, looking faintly ill. Taffy had never done well with crowds and in case no one noticed, there are lots of people (and Pokémon, though they shouldn't technically be at school. It's a game: who can sneak in the most of their friends!) at a school.
"Hi," I grumbled softly, partially to myself, and partially to her. She bumped me with her shoulder and we sat down in a less than savory corner before she dug a cookie and a ham sandwich out of her pocket. I accepted the food gratefully, and dug in hungrily. "Hard day," I said through a mouthful of food. It wasn't a question. I could tell just from looking at her. Anyone could. Her shoulders were drooped from her backpack wearing at her, and she had faint dark circles under her eyes from staying up late studying. Math most likely. Taffy always struggled with math. I offered to tutor her on numerous occasions, but she always refused, said she would never get it. We might be the same age-fifteen- but we are by no means equally matched in the brains department. I've been in twelfth grade two years now. Apparently, the board of directions requires at least six years of school before graduation. Stupid rule, if you ask me.
Taffy's in ninth grade, and struggles in math, science, and Pokémon history; she excels in Coordinating though, and brings the roof down with her routines, even with the school's Pokémon. No student is allowed their own Pokémon before thirteen, and never at school, as I mentioned before. "You guessed it," she mumbled through her cheeseburger. I broke the cookie in half and passed her half the Hitmontop cookie. It was gone in two seconds.
"Is the bit-" She shot me a warning look. Taft refused to let me swear in her presence, but I 'forget' sometimes. I'm working on my little problem. "Sorry. Is the jerk bothering you again?" She nodded and took a bite of her sandwich, the lettuce crunching under her resilient white teeth.
"Want me to tell everyone she's cheating on her math tests?" I asked eagerly. Much to my disappointment, she shook her head.
"Nah, that won't solve the problem."
"Speaking of problems..." I started, this was the perfect time, "There's this thing I was going to talk to you about, I was going to save it for later, but now's a good a time as any!"
"Yeah? What?" she mumbled dryly.
"I'm leaving."
"What!?"
Here's chapter one of my rewritten story! If you hate it, tell me, and it'll be gone within a few days and I'll resume work on the original. You guys must love me.