Disclaimer: I do not own MTV'S Awkward.

Everybody Stares

Every day, I walk down the halls of Palos Verdes High School, and everybody stares.

I pretend not to notice, but I can easily tell when their curious eyes instantly lock onto to me, scanning every detail from head to toe. I used to think that it was because I was pretty. I used to think that it was because everyone worshiped the very ground I walked on. I used to think that it was because I was the Sadie Saxton, undoubtedly the richest and coolest girl in town. But, lately, I've begun to think differently.

There's this saying Nicolo Machiavelli that goes: It's better to be feared than loved.

The first time I read that was during freshman year in Ms. Wallace's AP English class. At the time, those words held little to no relevance to me. I assumed Machiavelli must've been a real ugly, bitter loser to view things like that. I mean, if the guy was still around, I would have bet my favorite pair of Prada shoes that he would've been the kid with the glasses who always got picked last for dodge ball. And for these very reasons, I thought we shared no similarities.

Except, now that things are different, I've realized I might have been wrong about my previous accusations. Maybe, the guy wasn't so far from the truth after all. Maybe, we weren't as different as I thought. And maybe, just maybe, he had woken up like I had today and finally saw what was really going around him.

Because every day, I used to walk down these halls thinking that I was popular, that everyone loved me, that they appreciated my stellar looks and intelligence. But that wasn't true. They didn't love me. They feared me.

And I understood that – really understood that – when I looked at my yearbook. "Have a great summer"'s were lined across the pages, and I could tell that it barely took a few seconds for everyone to write it. The only message that was even slightly different from the rest was by Lissa, who had messily and quickly scribbled, "you rock, Sadie! Don't ever change!"

That was as a nice as it got. And I know what you're thinking right about now. How sad.

Truth is I'm a go-getter. It's not a surprise to me. I've always accepted it and I've never really been bothered by the fact that I might've stepped on a couple of toes to reach where I am today. Yet, looking at the different cursive signatures on the pages, I couldn't help but wonder had it been too many toes? Or should I have not stepped on any at all? It didn't even matter now; I understood it was already too late. I had only one choice left, and that was to silently pay for the price of my mistakes.

These thoughts kept on racing through my head all day. It just wasn't fair. It was the much anticipated last day of school, the day that was supposed to be the most relaxed, and I found myself thinking more than I ever had during the rest of the year. I approached my locker, turned the combination and opened it. It was almost empty. Most of the stuff I had already taken home. I stuffed the little that was left into my bag and saw that there was a picture on my door of me and some fellow cheerleaders at a party. I was curious how many of the girls in the photo actually enjoyed my company that night and how many of them had just pretended to.

Oh god. I can't believe it. I was starting to sound like her. As in that oozing skitch. The bane of my existence.

Before meeting her, I had the school wrapped around my little finger. I had everything the way I wanted and any boy would have fallen at my feet. But then she came along and changed everything. She ruined my life. I took my lock and stuffed it in my bag before angrily slamming my locker door. I hated her. I never wanted to see her again. But luck wasn't on my side, because, wonders of wonders, I saw her standing forty feet away from me.

I figured I might as well finish what I meant to do. I walked up to her, making sure that loathing was spelt clearly on my face. "Well, look who have here!" I said in an overly cheery, clearly fake, tone. "It's everyone's favorite suicide girl, Jenna Hamilton!"

"Hi to you too, Sadie."

I rolled my eyes. "Enough with the chitchat, Hamilton. I'm a girl on a mission. Call me perfectionist, but I won't be happy until I have a signature from everyone in the tenth grade. So here." I handed her my yearbook disgruntled. She handed me hers, obviously expecting me to sign it in return. I opened it to a semi empty page, and I was about to sign it until one of the comments caught my eye. It was written by my own best friend.

Looking back, I feel like we've had a lot of ups and down, but it's definitely been worthwhile. And if you don't agree, just look at it this way…if all that stuff hadn't happened between us, we would've never ended up being friends. And I'm glad that we are. Have a great summer, Jenna! Xoxo – Lissa.

It was nice, and personal. Nothing like the one she had written in mine. I started to read some of the other comments on the page, and they were all like that. Personal. I stared at them and all I wanted to do was cry.

"Hey, are you okay, Sadie?" came Jenna's voice, breaking me out of my trance.

"No, I'm not okay, you idiot. If you haven't already noticed, my whole world is falling apart and there's nothing I can do. My friends don't like me, the boy of my dreams doesn't love me, and the entire school fears me. And as if that wasn't horrible enough, even though I've made it my life goal to make your life a living hell, you're still nicer to me than anyone else."

Or at least, that was what I wanted to say. In reality, I couldn't seem to bring myself to let those words come out of my mouth. I couldn't admit defeat. I couldn't show weakness.

So, instead, I said, "I'm fine, you freak." I quickly signed her book and closed it. "I was just internally debating whether or not I should add a smiley face at the end of my message, but I eventually decided against it. Wouldn't want you thinking we're friends, would we, Hamilton?"

I grab my book from her while thrusting her's into her hands. When I stormed past her, I saw that he was approaching her. Unlike her, Matty McKibben was amazing. Every little thing about him was perfect – from his chestnut brown hair; to his slightly crooked smile; to that little chocolate chip shaped birthmark above his upper lip. Out of all the guys in the entire school, he was the only one I wanted. And he was also the only one I could never have.

He had chosen that pathetic loser, Jenna, over me, Cheerleading Captain, Sadie Saxton. It had been seven months since it happened and I was still reeling. What did he even see in her? – was it her lack of fashion? Her hideously cut brown hair? Her flat chest and poor excuse for curves?

It didn't make sense. They didn't make sense. They were the couple that defied all logic. Life really wasn't fair.

Nobody understands me. Not my mom, not my dad, not Matty or Jenna or Lissa. Everyone thinks I'm just the typical mean popular girl – the one who looks pretty and will only ever be good for that; the girl who everyone want to call their friend, but never wants to hang out with. Well, I'm sick of being that girl. Because everybody stares, but no one really know who I am.