Three is a Crowd

He sighed. "I just have the feeling this summer is going to be as miserable as that one was." 

The sound of his voice caused the two girls standing in front of us to turn around; Megan Waters and Sofia Foulds, or as I like to call them Bitch #1 and Bitch #2.

Megan Waters, head cheerleader and infamous school slut, ruled the school. Her father is a big shot music producer, who's worked with The Rolling Stones, Michael Jackson, Drake, and Katy Perry. Similar to royalty, Megan was cool by birth. She looked like a million bucks; with her scarlet auburn hair, bright blue eyes, and perfectly toned yoga body. Behind that beautiful exterior lived a hideous monster, one that even designer clothes couldn't hide. Rem and I sometimes like to call her Megan "Medusa" Waters.

Sofia, her beta, was much more discreet. Sofia was just as beautiful, with her olive skin and flowing raven hair, but her appearance made you look twice. Although she was second in command, she secretly held all the power. She knew everything about everyone. Unlike Megan, she didn't ooze with evil, but there was certainly a devil in her heart.

When Megan wasn't with Peyton Carter, she was on the prowl. Actually, scratch that, even when they were together, she was still on the prowl. That's probably why they break up and get back together so often. For an outsider, such as me, it was hard to keep track of their relationship status. It hurt my head to think about . . . and hurt my heart a little. She didn't deserve him. 

Since sophomore year, Megan has been trying to seduce Rem. To her, Rem was this unattainable hidden gem. But Rem hasn't fallen for any of her tricks. He sees right through her, just like he does with everyone else at our school. He hates fake people almost as much as he hates being alone. 

"Rem, I didn't see you there," she cooed, stroking his arm and shoving me aside. 

He scowled, and clenched his jaw. "Yeah, I wish it had stayed that way."

Both Sofia and Megan seemed frazzled by his comment. Either a six letter word was too big for their small brains to comprehend or they had never encountered an indirect insult. Nevertheless, Megan forged ahead.

"It's too bad I didn't see more of you this year," she daintily sighed, as she tossed her pin straight hair over her shoulder. 

Rem rolled his eyes. "Aw, bummer," he exclaimed sarcastically. 

I snickered in my corner. Megan turned to me, and crossed her arms defensively. "What are you laughing at, freak?" 

My eyes held their end of the glare, but my mouth froze. I was dumbfounded when it came down to comebacks. I was the kind of person who used their hands rather than their words. Not today, I told myself as I uncurled my balling fists. There was no way in hell I was going to miss out on Paris for some lame summer detention. 

"Yeah, that's what I thought," she sneered, before turning her attention back to Rem. "So I'm having a party tonight, to celebrate the end of school and kick off the summer, you should come."

Rem scoffed. "I'd love to get ridiculously drunk, make a fool out of myself, and spend time with you and other people I despise," he cruelly mocked, as he narrowed his harsh eyes down at her. "But I'm going to have to take a rain check."

Megan gaped as Sofia whimpered; finally, Rem's message was somewhat received. Of course, that didn't stop Megan from working for what she wanted. She just tossed the innocent act, and let her true colors shine through. 

"Who do you think you are? Do you know how hard it is to get an invitation to one of my parties? You should be thanking me, not rejecting me," she shrieked, wailing her arms around like a temperamental child. 

Rem smirked. "Wow, somebody's got an ego," he snarled through his teeth. Rem glanced over at me. "Thanks, but I've already got plans."

Megan scoffed, and threw her arms down to her sides. "With this loser?"  She looked me up and down, scrutinizing my outfit; my studded leather jacket, vintage Sex Pistols band tee shirt, ripped jeans, and combat boots. "Do you have something against girl clothes?" 

My hands began to curl again, while my tongue stayed tied. Don't do it, I told myself. It's not worth it, they're not worth it. I've never been one to care about appearances. My daily routine consisted of braiding my long, wavy brown hair, brushing my teeth, and throwing on facial moisturizer. I couldn't identify an eyelash curler from a lip brush to save my own life. I just don't give enough shits to try to make myself look half-way decent. They could criticize my look all they wanted, but when they start judging my character, it gets personal and I draw the line.