Makeover
The school prom is coming and this time Sam wants to go. Because she is crushing on a certain guy. She makes herself prettier once again, but someone else falls for her. Who will she choose?
Chapter 1-Skip
History class at Ridgeway High droned on. Several students were passing notes, texting, or just were not listening. Very few were able to concentrate on their notes, and those that did, were either forced to, or were teacher pets.
A brown-eyed brunette finally put her pencil down, and instead, took out her Iphone. She began to text, her fingers moving fast and skillfully. The typical texter.
Behind her was a brunette boy. A stack of papers accompanied him. Not of notes though, no, those were in his black backpack at his feet, but of information on a camcorder. He looked through each paper, sometimes writing on it, others just looking at dreamily. The typical tech-geek.
On his right was a girl with curly blond hair. A dark green backpack sat at her feet, full of crumpled papers. Her head was resting on her arms, and though no snore came from her, all knew she was sleeping because of her closed eyes and closed mouth. One hand had a cell phone in it, and the other was resting on a sheet of paper titled, "Ways to torture Freddie". The typical bully. As well as tomboy.
The teacher, a fairly tall lady with brown-red hair and ugly glasses, was oblivious to the texting girl, sleeping blond, and tech-obsessed boy.
That is, until there was a loud snitch of "Hot'N'Cold" by Katy Perry. And a crash of papers. As well as a snore.
"Benson! Puckett! Shay! Detention!" the teacher snarled at the three in the back. Both the brunettes looked horrified but the blond continued to sleep. This made the teacher furious and every student knew it. She swished to the chalkboard, grabbed a ruler, and when she had reached the desk, banged it. The blond woke with a start, and looked up. "Is class over yet?" she mumbled. This caused laughter from the classmates. "No, Samantha. It isn't over yet. Detention." was the teacher's snappy reply. "Yeah, yeah, whatever." Samantha grumbled. She was fuming, because she hated being called Samantha, she preferred Sam, and the teachers were the only ones that called her by her full name.
*************
"Man, my mom is going to ground me for weeks!" the boy whined. They had escaped from History for the bell rang not too long after they had received detentions, and were now at their lockers. The boy, who had a locker a bit away from the two girls, had already retrieved his books and was standing next to the blond. "Oh, shut up Benson." the blond snapped. "Sam, be nice to Freddie." was the brunette girl's warning. "Whatever, let's go." she snapped back. Her locker door was slammed and the trio trudged off.
The three teens reached the separate hallways. The boy, Freddie, and blond, Sam both had English but the brunette girl had Math. They waved goodbyes and set off.
Sam and Freddie walked along, a comfortable silence now among them. Freddie was used to Sam's constant bullying and had gotten over it quickly.
All was silent as they walked, but a girlish scream interrupted. Eager for excitement, they sprinted off.
A fairly tall boy, with brown hair and nice muscles, was holding a fat and shirtless boy by the foot, who was screaming. Freddie was looking for help, but Sam was focused on something else. She was staring at his charming blue eyes. And the way he grinned was so amazing. She continued to stare at the boy dreamily.
"Freddie help!'" came the shirtless boy's screams. But Freddie was focused on something else. He was looking at the blond next to him. Both the bully and victim noticed and looked at her. She finally noticed their curious glances and blushed wildly. Before any word could be said, she had hurried off, backpack over shoulder.
The shirtless boy was dropped and he scrambled off. "Who is the hot chick?" the brown-haired boy asked. "Her name is Sam." Freddie answered
" She is pretty." said the boy. Freddie stayed silent.
"You two aren't dating though?" he asked, after seeing Freddie's expression.
"Oh, no."
"Oh, okay. Name is Nate. Call me Skip." Skip held his hand out and Freddie shook it politely.
"Freddie. You look familiar. Do you have Mr. Binson for third period?" Freddie asked.
"Actually, I do. But I don't recogonize you at all." Skip replied. The boys let out light chuckles at this and talked for a few more minutes. Finally, a teacher shooed them away and the boys separated.
When Freddie entered English, the usual greeted him- a fat man with a long black beard, snoring on the desk. Behind him stood the whiteboard, covered in messy notes. But of course, no one cared. The same old thing.
But as Freddie sat in his seat, he noticed there was someone writing. After setting his stuff down, he moved over and recognized Sam. She wasn't in her assigned seat, no surprise there, but she was writing. School notes. Not doodles. But school notes. He walked back, confused. After taking his seat, his navy blue flip phone was taken out and he began to text Sam as it was the safest way.
TechSmartie: Hey
HamEater: wat do u want, benson?
TechSmartie: u seem different. U alrite? I mean, ur copying notes!
HamEater: im fine, ok? Its none of ur beeswax benson anyway
TechSmartie: ok, ok
TechSmartie: can I ask u one thing tho?
HameEater: WELL
TechSmartie: u know that guy we met in the hallway? Well, his name is Skip, but I was wundrn, do u like him?
HamEater:
TechSmartie: hello?
HamEater:
TechSmartie: whatever, txt u later then
Freddie shut his phone and glanced at his blond-haired frenemy. She had gone back to writing, her phone gone. He sighed and unable to copy the notes himself, texted other friends.
Sam's POV
I continued to copy Mr. Hinson's notes. No way was I going to tell Fredward I had a crush on Skip. But I mean, come on, he was cute, strong. He loved to bully, had wonderful eyes, he was my perfect guy. But then again, he probably didn't like me. I mean, no guy has ever had feelings for me. Jonah used me. Shane probably liked Carly better. Gibby hates me. So does Freddie. I mean, no guy wants me. So why should I bother? I wasn't good enough anyway. I let these thoughts soar into my head, not able to get them out, and only a few minutes later did I feel a single tear roll down my cheek.