Author's Note: To understand this story, you must've read "Notice Me" before reading this. I don't own anything except for the character of Skye Alexander and her family and friends. I also am the creater of Randy Orton's baby sister, Anabelle. The wrestlers own themselves and Vince McMahon owns the WWE. I don't own any music mentioned in this either. The artists own it and yadi-yada. The cat named Snicklefritz is from 'Big Comfy Couch'. Nickelodeon owns Spongebob! And I don't own anything so I won't make this long. I just need to say that I'm doing this for fun! Yeah, yeah. You've probably heard that speech a million times so, I'll shut up now and proceed with the story. *This chapter will be in Stacy Keibler's POV...*
I'm a bitch. I'm a slut. Yet, I'm one of the most popular girls in school. Perhaps, the most popular. Besides Torrie anyways. I just want Randy to like me. I can't help it if I have to make up stories for him to do so. And even when I make up stories, he hates me. What's wrong? Doesn't he want to be with a girl like me? I'm blonde and beautiful. I've got an amazing set of legs and a kickass body. Why can't he see that I want him? He deserves to be with me! Not with that loser, Skye. What's she got that I don't? She has this ugly red hair and she's not pretty at all. She isn't even all that skinny. I mean, she isn't fat, but she isn't as thin as me. I'm perfect. Yet, Randy Orton doesn't want anything to do with me! I, Stacy Keibler, need to figure out something. And I need to do it fast. Maybe...
Enough with the self-reflection. Torrie's here for our sleepover. I watched as the co-captain of the Vincent K. McMahon cheerleading squad barged into my room, without even knocking. She threw her purple overnight bag on my bed, practically hitting me. I moved out of the way, just in time. Torrie was dressed in a light blue tank top, with light blue supertight jeans. I, myself wasn't much better. I had on a black tank top with a pair of super-short black shorts. She jumped onto my bed and smiled. "Oh my god, Stace! I have to, like, tell you, like, something, like, so so so important!" I snapped out of my thoughts and sat up from my laying position on the bed. My hands were at my sides.
"Oh my god, like, what?!" I asked. I flipped my hair.
"I was getting a, like, ride from my dad and, like, guess who I saw, like, walking?!"
"Umm...that loser, Skye?" I questioned. I may have thoughts, but I still thought she was a loser. I hated her for taking Randy away from me. Torrie nodded vigorously and proceeded to speak.
"She was, like, with some, like, little kid, or whatever. Anyways, my dad was driving, and like, he almost, like, ran her over!" She burst into a fit of giggles. I had to fake mine because I didn't think it was that funny. "That, like, gave me a like, super idea! You, like, want to, like, get rid of, like, Skye, right?" I nodded, my eyes going wide. I began to perk up at the sound of 'get rid of Skye'. "We can, like, run her over!" Torrie Wilson clapped at her own idea.
"What?!" I asked, shocked. We've done some pretty mean things to people, but never have we actually thought of running somebody over.
"We could, like, run her over! But we, like, won't use any of, like, our cars!" She replied.
"So, that way, nobody will, like, think it's, like, us!" I exclaimed. She nodded before reaching for her overnight bag. Torrie pulled the zipper open and pulled out a list of names and numbers. I watched curiously as she hopped off my bed and grabbed the hot pink cordless I had in my room. "What are you doing?" I asked as she seated herself back onto the bed.
"This is a list of people with cars from our group. We can use one of their cars." Torrie explained as she looked at the list. I took a peek at it and saw the first name on the list: Rob Van Dam.
"Then people will think Rob did it! What if he goes to jail?" I cried. Rob was a cool guy. I didn't want him to go to jail.
"Come on...Rob's cool! He'd, like, take the blame for us, right?" She asked, looking a bit hesitant about calling him now.
"No, Torrie! He wouldn't. Let's find somebody else." I told her, taking the list from her hands. I noticed that I wasn't adding 'like' in between my words, but I didn't care. We are not going to send Rob Van Dam to jail. The two of us looked over the list, trying to find somebody who had a car. Most of the people on the list were our friends, and we didn't want to get them in trouble. After a few minutes of searching, our eyes fell upon a name: Jeff Hardy. Both of us looked at each other, and smiled. Torrie dialed Jeff's number on the cordless and waited as it rang. Three rings later, somebody picked up.
"Hello?"
Author's Note2: Short, but it'll help lead up to where I'm headed. Don't forget to review! Nobody reviewed my last chapter and I was sad. =(
I'm a bitch. I'm a slut. Yet, I'm one of the most popular girls in school. Perhaps, the most popular. Besides Torrie anyways. I just want Randy to like me. I can't help it if I have to make up stories for him to do so. And even when I make up stories, he hates me. What's wrong? Doesn't he want to be with a girl like me? I'm blonde and beautiful. I've got an amazing set of legs and a kickass body. Why can't he see that I want him? He deserves to be with me! Not with that loser, Skye. What's she got that I don't? She has this ugly red hair and she's not pretty at all. She isn't even all that skinny. I mean, she isn't fat, but she isn't as thin as me. I'm perfect. Yet, Randy Orton doesn't want anything to do with me! I, Stacy Keibler, need to figure out something. And I need to do it fast. Maybe...
Enough with the self-reflection. Torrie's here for our sleepover. I watched as the co-captain of the Vincent K. McMahon cheerleading squad barged into my room, without even knocking. She threw her purple overnight bag on my bed, practically hitting me. I moved out of the way, just in time. Torrie was dressed in a light blue tank top, with light blue supertight jeans. I, myself wasn't much better. I had on a black tank top with a pair of super-short black shorts. She jumped onto my bed and smiled. "Oh my god, Stace! I have to, like, tell you, like, something, like, so so so important!" I snapped out of my thoughts and sat up from my laying position on the bed. My hands were at my sides.
"Oh my god, like, what?!" I asked. I flipped my hair.
"I was getting a, like, ride from my dad and, like, guess who I saw, like, walking?!"
"Umm...that loser, Skye?" I questioned. I may have thoughts, but I still thought she was a loser. I hated her for taking Randy away from me. Torrie nodded vigorously and proceeded to speak.
"She was, like, with some, like, little kid, or whatever. Anyways, my dad was driving, and like, he almost, like, ran her over!" She burst into a fit of giggles. I had to fake mine because I didn't think it was that funny. "That, like, gave me a like, super idea! You, like, want to, like, get rid of, like, Skye, right?" I nodded, my eyes going wide. I began to perk up at the sound of 'get rid of Skye'. "We can, like, run her over!" Torrie Wilson clapped at her own idea.
"What?!" I asked, shocked. We've done some pretty mean things to people, but never have we actually thought of running somebody over.
"We could, like, run her over! But we, like, won't use any of, like, our cars!" She replied.
"So, that way, nobody will, like, think it's, like, us!" I exclaimed. She nodded before reaching for her overnight bag. Torrie pulled the zipper open and pulled out a list of names and numbers. I watched curiously as she hopped off my bed and grabbed the hot pink cordless I had in my room. "What are you doing?" I asked as she seated herself back onto the bed.
"This is a list of people with cars from our group. We can use one of their cars." Torrie explained as she looked at the list. I took a peek at it and saw the first name on the list: Rob Van Dam.
"Then people will think Rob did it! What if he goes to jail?" I cried. Rob was a cool guy. I didn't want him to go to jail.
"Come on...Rob's cool! He'd, like, take the blame for us, right?" She asked, looking a bit hesitant about calling him now.
"No, Torrie! He wouldn't. Let's find somebody else." I told her, taking the list from her hands. I noticed that I wasn't adding 'like' in between my words, but I didn't care. We are not going to send Rob Van Dam to jail. The two of us looked over the list, trying to find somebody who had a car. Most of the people on the list were our friends, and we didn't want to get them in trouble. After a few minutes of searching, our eyes fell upon a name: Jeff Hardy. Both of us looked at each other, and smiled. Torrie dialed Jeff's number on the cordless and waited as it rang. Three rings later, somebody picked up.
"Hello?"
Author's Note2: Short, but it'll help lead up to where I'm headed. Don't forget to review! Nobody reviewed my last chapter and I was sad. =(