One sunny day during the summer preceding her senior year of high school, Chloe Beale had, in fact, developed a particular sense of fashion. One which she liked to believe categorized her as a miniature Amy Adams.

No more of the same raggedy jeans, paired with the same oversized T-shirts. No more of the simple, effortless Chloe that everyone had come to know and expect every day. Not that anything was wrong with 'old' Chloe; she loved her, and still loves her to this day. Raggedy jeans and oversized T-shirts do, actually, have their own very important place in Chloe's wardrobe.

She just didn't want to be the same predictable girl any longer.

She spent the remainder of her summer working at Burger King – which was as unpleasant as it sounds, but she had to make money somehow – and saved all her paychecks up for a massive shopping trip. With that, she traded in her flip-flops for fringed ankle boots, her jackets for lace cardigans and fitted blazers, and stocked up on pleated skirts, wrap dresses, and rompers in all the colors that made her eyes radiate like the sun. She taught herself how to apply and blend her eyeshadow, studied which colors would best complimented her eye and skin color, and learned several different ways to style her hair. She also schooled herself on the utmost importance of hydration, healthy eating, exercise, and getting a sufficient amount of sleep in order to encourage natural beauty.

Because of all this preparation, the best moment of Chloe's high school career had been arriving the first day of her senior year to see all her unsuspecting peers stare at her as she passed in the halls, chin held high and lips coated in red. Her best friend, Aubrey, who had spent the summer at a medical technology workshop at Yale and thus not been able to witness the transformation, had come up to her, cradled her face for examination with an awed, "I don't know what happened, but I am so proud of you."

That's when she knew she made it. Shook off the cloak of awkwardness and invisibility to reveal a shiny interior, a love for other human beings, and a face that drew stares like Johnny Depp drew admirers.

Knowing how far she'd come, a whole four years of finding peace and confidence with her new found self, the last thing she was going to do was stand by and allow insults to be thrown carelessly at her. She knew she was attractive – there was nothing wrong with a fine amount of confidence. (After all, some confidence is required to be able to call oneself a miniature Amy Adams.)

And she would never say it aloud, but she knew she very well might have been taking the brunette girl's comment from the night before a little too seriously. Still - she needed to not focus on that little detail right now. It might detract her focus from making herself as hot as possible.

Defensive and determined, Chloe awoke around seven-thirty the following morning and departed for a run; get some adrenaline pumping and kick start her energy reserve (until about two, when she'd be in desperate need of a nap). Three miles and a thorough shower later, Chloe plugged her phone into her speakers to blast some Echosmith (quite loudly) before perching herself on the ledge of her bathroom sink to begin her makeup routine.

She picked out a three-quarter sleeved navy blue romper with intricate turquoise and silver designs to wear, which always succeeded in making her eyes dazzle, and decided to compliment it with subtle eye makeup. She took her trusty eyeshadow brushes in hand and blended a few shades of pinks and light tans into a crème hued base, expertly applied mascara, and dabbed on some dark pink lip gloss that tasted like peppermint. Finally, she scrunched her red locks to enhance the curls and tamed the fly-away hairs with touches of hairspray.

She dubbed it her 'Girl Next Door' look, because who doesn't love a little irony? After all, the 'Insane Unkempt Neighbor' strategy hadn't succeeded in intimidating nor impressing the brunette, so aesthetical appeal was her next resort. Worked before, should work again.

Grinning at herself in the mirror and squinting her eyes in evil anticipation, she knew in the next few minutes she was going to have the pleasure of seeing her neighbor wide eyed and slack jawed. And it was going to be the highlight of Chloe's week.

Dainty knuckles tapped on the first floor door with much less ferocity than had been executed the night before. This knock produced a hollow, polite sound, three raps in a row, cuing Chloe to straighten her back and plaster a sweet smile on her face. She knew it produced a warm, sugary outward impression, but she could taste a bitterness, one she'd felt festering deep down since she hatched her plan the night before, seeping onto her taste buds from the forgery of the expression.

Part of her felt incredibly gratified with herself, standing there with a bouquet of white daisies plucked from the vase on her kitchen table held behind her back and ready to be relinquished as a peace offering. But the distaste of what she was doing – her true intent – made her muscles tense uncomfortably. That tiny portion of her that felt somewhat pathetic for going through the trouble just to make her neighbor…make her what, exactly? Feel inferior, like one would to another in a cliché high school movie? No, that wasn't something Chloe made a point of doing to others (even to rude, oddly attractive women who woke her every other night with miniature concentrated earthquakes). Make her feel bad for being so brass the night before? That seemed more probable, but still wasn't hitting the bullseye.

The door pulled open with a whoosh of air, and the smaller brunette stepped out in front of it only to it shut behind her in haste, not allowing Chloe the chance to get a glimpse of the inside. She stood still, peering at Chloe, poker faced with the exception of a single raised brow. Most definitely not the show of utter surprise that Chloe dearly wished to see. Chloe knew her loud music had done its job when she saw that the girl was actually fully awake and decent…okay, more than decent (the blue top she was wearing really did wonders).

"Hey," the girl says, much like the night before, then wiggles her finger up and down, gesturing to the spans of Chloe's body. Chloe, for a glorious moment that ends much too quickly, catches the dark eyes rake up her body, from the curly red hair straight down to the strappy wedges she's wearing. To be honest, it could have been a gaze of contempt or of infatuation. Chloe is not sure how to read her just yet. "You look…different."

Chloe nods her head, agreeing completely. "That I do!" Unblinking, the girl's lips quirk up on the sides somewhat awkwardly, not all that happily, and entirely expectantly, waiting for the redhead to explain why she was knocking on her door at nine in the morning.

"Look," Chloe continues, snapping out of her daze, "I think we got off on the wrong foot last night. I'm Chloe Beale." She flashes her pearly whites and extends her right hand, still holding the flowers behind her back. Her eyes stay glued to the scientist for any sign of stagger or shock, but other than that one sliver of an admiring look-over, she is granted nothing.

The girl simply replies with her tight lipped smile, not welcoming in the slightest, and nods her head curtly. "Awesome." She glances at the hand while she reaches behind her to wiggle the doorknob, making sure it's locked, and moves to pass by Chloe.

She couldn't even shake her hand? Hell, Chloe would have been okay with a hi-five at that point, as long as it meant she wasn't rooming above an antisocial genius who could probably make her grow a third arm if Chloe annoyed her enough. She needed to be on decent terms with the girl. And she kind of wanted to be, too.

"Wait a sec!" Chloe sidesteps to block her path, her earlier hope and desires crushed by the girl's disinterest. She feels her brows knit together against her will; she'd desperately wanted to maintain a pristine, cheerful image – like always – but this girl was incorrigible! "I'd like to know who I'm living next to, you know?"

The scientist actually has the audacity to meet Chloe's gaze – and laugh mockingly, right in her face. "Interesting. You didn't seem to care much four months ago when I moved in, so."

Which, in her eyes, must seem entirely true, because Chloe's plans to introduce herself had never been executed. She'd wanted to meet her new neighbor, but she also had homework to do and midterms to study for and sleep to be had…and maybe a new season of Parks and Recreations and Grey's Anatomy had just been released on Netflix and maybe she didn't leave Aubrey's couch for five days while they binge watched them. Whatever.

Chloe's head jerks back, not entirely expecting the girl to be so blunt. Her mouth opens to respond, but she doesn't know what to say that won't simply be her sputtering out excuses like an imbecile. The brunette breaks hums matter-of-factly at having shut up Chloe once again, and weaves around her to continue down the cobblestone path to her car.

Chloe spins around to face the retreating form, "Hey!"

Thankfully, the girl stops - but makes a huge show of dropping her shoulders and letting her head fall back before slowly turning her body towards Chloe.

"I brought you daisies!" She calls, lifting the flowers in front of her as a signal for the girl to come back and receive them.

With a sigh and pushing back of her curly hair, the scientist continues her trek, only walking backwards, and calls back, "I'm more of an orchid girl."

She slides into the driver's seat of her car and leaves Chloe standing at her doorstep with an incredulous drop of her jaw. Before she drives off, the girl catches Chloe's eye with a pointed stare and twists the volume knob of her car up as far as it goes, making the car tremble with "Mr. Brightside" bleeding through its walls.

At least Chloe knows the girl had heard her wake-up music.

The scientist zooms off, and Chloe already has a message typed up and sent by the time she's out of view.

Lunch today please?

Her phone's petite ding pours some sand over the fire inside her that's causing the smoke to billow from her ears.

Aubrey: Yes ma'am. Time and place?

Thanks for reading! I'm kind of just writing this one for fun, and am not taking it as serious as I am my other story. Please share your thoughts, if you love it/hate it/want something to happen, and always feel free to contact me on tumblr Cloverbomb