About[]
This story is an original story by Lilly, rated Normal.
Plot[]
He was once a part of my life- he was once the man for me. No longer… he betrayed me for that flirt. He came again, merely a week after he had broken my heart, and expected me to forgive him, so we could be as we were before. I slammed the door in his face, snapping a harsh “No!” as I did. Whilst it was mean, I do not regret it.
We had more fights than we ever had good times, it was like the nightmare relationships you get in romance books- fight,resolve,get back together...it always went round and round in a dull, despicable circle, on and on, until somebody broke their binds and flew free from the dreary repetitiveness of relationships. That person was me.
I am Kaya Clarence, your bog standard teen girl right from the depths of NYC- apart from being rich and famous. So, not at all bog standard if you put your mind to it. I’m beginning to think that my money was why he went for me, for fame and fortune. Hopefully I’ll never know his motives, because I never want to see his face again, ever.
Oliver Jones was bog standard; scruffy, torn school uniforms and hair like he’d just come through a bush backwards. What drew me to such a dirty, sexually motived boy I do not know- maybe it was the roses he held out, or…something unknown.
We both attended a high prestige academy- how his parents afforded to send him, that’s a mystery.I still think they pooled all their money. There were groups – the Athletes, the Nerds, the Pranksters, and… the Populars.
I was a Popular, the kind of leader in fact. Everyone wanted me, but something about supreme idiot Oliver Jones was there, that none of the other boys could give me; the others never understood, asking me why the hell I could ever fall in love with a Prankster.
Everyone knew at the time that Populars and Pranksters were having a kind of war at the time. Populars were pretty girls with real motives, and Pranksters were all guys who would ski down a mountain reciting poetry in Switzerland even though it was illegal.
I gave up my popularity for him… I had to join the Athletes instead. Of course they welcomed me to their clique…but I thought they never trusted me, as if I was a spy.
This story is the real, stark truth about what happened between me, perfect, pretty Kaya Clarence and scruffy, normal Oliver Jones; the events of the relationship that was born to clash and never last.
“Kaya Elizabeth Clarence!” That was my alarm clock again- of course, it was the one that sounded remarkably like Alice Clarence, my rather professional mother with loads of contacts. Reaching feebly out to grasp the mirror in a trembling hand, I brought it delicately to my face. What I saw made me groan with exasperation, even though I wasn’t surprised about it at all.
Like every morning, I had the most terrible bedhead in the whole city, guaranteed. I looked like a furry faced animal to be frank- and I hate dissing myself, but it’s true, really. That’s what makes me really glad that none of my clique sees me this early in the morning. Even if one member got a glance of this monstrosity I would get the boot, no questions asked. Seems harsh to most people, but that’s the way it is. I’ve known that ever since I started at the Academy. The girls in the Populars are much like me- prissy, pretty…and, well, popular.
“Kaya!” Yeah, my mother’s a morning person. Don’t know why, but I have never been one of those people. My mother’s tried, and at the end of last week she gave up. This is my latest lie-in in months,and that includes Sundays. That, my friends, is what harsh is. Denying your daughter her beauty rest.
But I threw back my covers anyways, and literally fell out of bed by accident. Once I had recovered enough, I rubbed my sore knee, feeling rather sorry for myself. Despite my new 'injury' as Chief Drama Queen (me) would say it, I moved over to the wardrobe and got out the uniform- and the prefects' badge.
It was rather a shock when I became a prefect, although to be fair it was not unpleasant. My mother acted nice to me for a few days, almost as if she were proud. But she couldn't have been, could she? Quite honestly I wouldn't have been surprised if the doctor told me she was a sociopath.
The school uniform was the plain white shirt and a blue and bronze striped tie. Over that we wore a bronze blazer and a pleated skirt or trousers. And, plain shoes. That last bit caused my only rebellion, in which I led the populars on a homework strike in my ninth grade. That only got us fail grades and detentions all round.
Once I was ready, I dutifully packed pristine books, essays and papers into my satchel, slipping my iPod in my pocket so I could use it at recess. There was only Chess Club on Tuesdays, and, that was only for the Nerd clique, it said so on the poster.
Slowly, I headed out of the room for the first time, for my first day of tenth grade.
