Sorry the chapter titles on the site have awkward abbreviations and stuff like when you click to the next chapter, the site only allows for a certain amount of characters, so you have to abbreviate to fit the whole title sometimes.

Recap: Jade has been depressed and devastated for months since the death of her girlfriend, Cristina. She's gone emotionally numb after months of pain, nothing seems to matter to her anymore. Her father, unable to afford Hollywood Arts anymore, informs her that she's transferring to Sherwood High. She runs away to the beach where she and Cristina used to hang out to fall asleep and feel closer to her.

You Tell All the Boys "No," Makes You Feel Good

"Hey bitch," Santana says as she approaches me in the parking lot. She clicks the lock on her keys to her Mercedes-Benz. Her dad is so rich that buying her a Mercedes is like any other dad buying his kid a ten-dollar toy car.

"Hey loser," I reply with a laugh as I lock up my Honda Civic. It's not nearly as expensive and sleek as Santana's Mercedes, but I make do. My dad insists it's a fine car. Obviously he doesn't understand the expense of being popular in high school.

You have to have all the right clothes, the perfect looks, the right car, the grades, the boys, and so much more it's impossible to list. Thankfully, I was born with all the right looks.

"Another wonderful day at Sherwood High," Santana says sarcastically, pushing her sunglasses off her face and up onto her head as we enter the building.

"Would you please be a little quieter," Carly says, sliding in beside me. She still has her sunglasses on over her eyes. She must've gotten completely wasted at Freddie's party last night.

It's always been the three of us, ever since freshman year. Being the hottest bitches in the joint, we instantly found each other. It was like we were meant to be. I, of course, am the leader, always at the center of our trio. I'm your best friend, until I'm not. Santana is my right hand girl. She'll chew you up and spit you out in a minute with her vicious, biting words and not give you a second thought later. Carly, she's a little more passive. But if a rumor just started that you have the gonorrhea, you can bet she's the one that started it. Are we a little bit vicious? Yes. But that's just the way things work in this lifetime. It's called natural selection. Only the strong survive.

"Maybe you shouldn't have gotten so drunk last night," Santana bites back. Carly sneers in return.

"Fuck off," Carly responds, shooting the middle finger at Santana. "I'm sorry I wasn't just sluttin' it up like you. Don't think I didn't see you go into that bedroom with Puck and Sam."

""I was keeping my boyfriend happy," Santana retorts.

"By sleeping with him and that loser Sam Puckett," Carly responds. "Can you spell lesbian?"

"Can you?" Carly looks like she's really trying to figure it out for a moment before giving up. Usually, she could. But right now, she's wasted as all hell and probably a little bit high.

"At least I have a boyfriend to keep happy."

"Whatever," Carly responds. I sigh and roll my eyes. It's always this way between us. Those two get into some stupid fight, which Santana always inevitably wins because Carly doesn't have the tongue for comebacks.

We make it to our lockers, where my gorgeous boyfriend is waiting with his charming smile. "Hey babe," he says, leaning forwards and giving me a peck on the cheek. "Last night was great," he whispers in my ear.

I blush and slap him lightly. He jumps backwards, rubbing his arm n mock-pain. The dance of flirtation is one that is mastered with a bat of eyelashes, a flip of your hair, a touch of prudery in public, and finally a nymphomaniac in the sheets. "Not in public," I mutter as if I were embarrassed. I barely care, but it's all part of the flirtatious foreplay.

"Relax, tiger," he says with a wink. "I bruise easy." He is perfect. He's the star basketball player, devilishly handsome, easily the most popular boy in school, charming, bad, and pretty good in bed. All the guys want to be him and all the girls want to be with him. With him on my arm we're a shoe-in for prom king and queen.

"Well then, we're going to have to play by my rules," I respond.

"And what are your rules, my queen?" he says, bowing down to me as though he were my knight.

I smirk. "Worship me."

"Your wish is my command," he says. He begins peppering me with kisses that make me squeal and laugh. I notice Carly's disgusted face and Santana's complete lack of caring.

I push him off of me when I hear the bell ring. "I have to get to class, you."

"See you later babe," he says, with one last kiss to my lips.

"Later." I grab my books from my locker and motion for the girls to follow behind me. We've got to get to class.

**Fix You**

I stare at Santana as she eats her salad, not worrying for a second about the amount of calories she might be taking in. I don't understand it. She has the perfect body, not that I've been checking her out. But she has nice breasts, a thin stomach, hourglass hips, and long legs. She stays on a diet, but eats as much as she wants without worrying. I don't know how she pulls it off.

Carly is probably not as sexually attractive, but she's still beautiful. She's got the perfect porcelain features and the cute smile that always attracts boys. I don't know how she does it, she literally eats two cheeseburgers if she wants, and she's still as skinny a string bean.

And then there's me, staring down at my plate of food and not eating a bite. Every once in a while I change the order of where he food is or I take a bite here and there so they don't realize, although I doubt they'd really care that I'm not eating all that much.

I stare at everyone else in the cafeteria, enjoying their lunches, laughing and talking. None of them seem to be giving a damn about how much food they put in their bodies or what their stomachs will look like when bikini season comes along. I envy them.

And then I catch the fat girls. They're sitting at a table near the edge of the Quad right near the trashcans. They're right where they should be: The Loser's Section. They're ugly, overweight, and… happy. They're smiling and laughing and enjoying their food. They're not even caring what other people think of them.

"Look at them," I murmur, pointing the girls out to Carly and Santana. "The fat pigs. Haven't they ever heard of working out?"

Carly and Santana laughs. "Maybe we should remind them," Santana says devilishly.

I pick up my tray and start walking towards them with determination. I can feel blood rushing in my veins as I march straight up to them. The look on their face goes from happy to fearful in a second. It makes me feel good to be feared. I'm in control. I feign a trip and spill my salad on all of them. "Sorry girls," I say with absolutely no apology in my voice. "How clumsy of me to spill my salad on you." I smirk. "Have you ever heard of a salad? Because it doesn't look like it."

Santana and Carly laugh behind me. They look so sad and dejected as they begin wiping off the salad dressing from their clothes.

I do feel a little bit bad because I know exactly how they feel. They feel fat and they want to change and they want society to stop caring about weight. But there's a stronger emotion in me. Control.

I remind myself that I am nothing like them. They are not who I am. I am not fat. They are. I am better than them. So I start to laugh. I laugh because I am in control of my life. And I start to feel better. Their pain boosts my ego. I'm not eating right now so I can be skinnier. I'm not going to be fat like they are.

"See you later ladies," I say, not bothering to pick up my tray or anything as we walk away. Santana throws away her meal and puts her tray up on the garbage can, but Carly purposely misses, letting the food splatter right by their feet.

"My bad," she says bitingly. The three of us laugh.

**Fix You**

"You should really keep an eye on that boyfriend of yours," Santana warns as we finish up in the locker rooms after practice.

"Ryder?" I'm afraid of what she's going to say, but worse, I'm afraid that what I'm thinking is what she's going to say.

"He was checking out one of the God Freaks… Quinn Fabray," Santana notes. It's weird that Santana knew her name. Santana usually doesn't know anyone's name. She claims that most people aren't worth remembering.

"You can't be sure he was checking other girls out," I argue. I was right. I knew he was a player before we dated and I didn't exactly expect that to change. But I expected him to keep his ass in line. He's got the hottest girl at this school and I'm also putting out. We've got to stay at the top of the ladder. He should know that. And he should appreciate what he's got. Me.

"I'm sure he wasn't," Carly adds.

"I know when somebody is checking someone else out," she replies, packing up the last of her things. "Anyways, see you later bitches."

"Bye loser," I reply absent-mindedly.

"See you, slut," Carly says. It's our thing. Santana calls us bitches, Carly calls us sluts, and I call them losers.

Once Santana leaves Carly comes over to console me. "Ryder isn't stupid enough to want anybody but you, especially one of those stupid Jesus Freaks. We're the hottest pieces of action in this wretched place." She flips her hair.

"I know," I growl out. "I don't need you to confirm what I'm already aware of." Carly runs back to her locker to finish packing up, tail between her legs.

I almost wish she'd say it again. Her saying it out loud helps. It almost makes me believe her. But I can't help but wonder if I'm losing Ryder. I'm doing everything I should. I'm hot. I fuck him at least once a week. I'm on his arm to all his parties. I'm his little trophy to sport around to his jock-jerk buddies. What more could I do to keep him with me?

I need him. I couldn't actually care less about him, but he's a status symbol around here. We are Sherwood's power couple. I am head cheerleader and he's the basketball star. If he were to dump me, the social backlash I would get from that would be unimaginable. He's how I'm going to stay at the top of the social ladder come senior year. I can't afford to lose him.

**Fix You**

"Hey Tor, what are you doing here?" Ryder asks, stepping outside of his doorway. Without a single word I jump onto him, wrapping my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck as our lips connect. His reflexes kick in as his arms grip around my waist. His hand fumbles with the door as we make our way inside, up the stairs, and straight to his bed.

"I like this side of you," Ryder growls in my ear as we make it to his room.

"And I like this part," my hand reaches for the noticeable bulge in his pants, "of you." The two of us grin as we fall onto his bed.

**Fix You**

Tori: Hey loser

Santana: Why are you texting me at fucking 2am in the morning?

Tori: That thing you were talking about with Ryder? It won't be happening again.

What did you think of Tori's character? I didn't expect her to be so hard to write, but I actually had a lot of difficulty with her. It's difficult for me to write a bitch, oddly. How do you feel about her? Horrible person or a little sympathetic?

I'm sorry this was a little on the shorter side, but the chapter sizes will vary. It all just depends on how much I have to say and as the story goes on I believe I'll have a lot more to say as Tori's character develops.

Today is my birthday! So please make it amazing and leave a review!