Don't Forget to Remember Me

Chapter 1

  11th grade year. I was so not looking forward to it; honestly, I'd stopped caring about school some time around 9th grade. That doesn't necessarily mean that I'm some druggie/soon to be dropout. I'm actually an 'A' student with a 4.0 GPA (for now...), volleyball player, former cheerleader (I quit for volleyball, and for the sake of my sanity), on the SGA, and one of the most well-liked persons in the whole high school, not to brag really. I'm only stating the hard facts. I just hate school for some reason and only come because of my friends. Oh, and because my parents make me of course.

  "Honey, hurry up or you'll be late!" my mom yelled up the stairs. As if it had been cued, a car horn beeped impatiently outside. Crap. Taking a final glance at myself in the full-body mirror, I checked and double-checked myself. 'Appearances are everything'  I mused to myself. After being sure that I looked okay, I ran outside, grabbing my Harajuku Lovers book bag along the way. 

  "Hey Alyssa, thanks." I said to her. Alyssa was my neighbor, and usually my ride.

  "It's no biggie. You look pretty rockin'," she replied, adjusting the radio station. I cringed when she stopped on a Justin Bieber song. *No offense to any JB lovers, I guess it's true when they say 'Hater's gonna keep hatin'* 

  "Thanks, Mom let me go crazy with her MasterCard last week"

  "It shows." 

  We made small talk for the rest of the drive - who's dating who, how Brad, also a senior this year, had asked me out over the summer, how she was worried about college already... all that nonsense. After we found a parking spot, we walked to the gym (everyone had to go and wait there during the morning, apparently the teachers were afraid that we were going to go and smoke weed or something before school started) and I braced myself for the squealing groupies. Good thing too.

  "Ohmigosh Belle, you look, like, so different! In a good way of course!"

  "Ahh, I saw that scarf at American Eagle last week, I wish I'd gotten it! It looks soooo much better on you though!"

  "Hey girl, I missed you this summer! Sorry I didn't keep in touch! I was so busy!"

  All complete crap. We all knew that, I was the only one that had the guts to say it out loud. They were like a heard of hyaenas, feeding off my popularity, which I didn't even think was that much. I mean, I hung out with all the athletes and the occasional cheerleader, but I wasn't like... One girl walked up, catching my eye. I smirked, thinking, 'Well, here's the perfect example for my thoughts.'

  Sophie Wilson. Head cheerleader, bottle blonde, and a total hoe. The head airhead. Instantly, the wannabe girls turned to her, gushing over the stupidest things ever. Every school has there own Sophie Wilson. The girl everyone hates in public, but secretly wishes she could be. Not me though. I was fine with how I was already; I was pretty enough to be noticed and admired, but not to an extent where people started being jealous. Naturally tan skin, straight black/brown hair, curves where they're supposed to be, chocolate - no, DARK chocolate - brown eyes, a whopping 5'3 (note the sarcasm)... All the results of being Asian. The one thing that made me not fit the Asian stereotype completely was that I had pretty big eyes. That's all though. But hey, I didn't care. I was me; God had made me this way for a reason.

  Smirking, I sarcastically said, "OMG, Sophie! Hey! I like, so like, missed you so much this summer! Did you like, grow a brain over the break?" I got an appreciative laugh from the guys in the circle, a glare from her and her little minions, who a few minutes earlier were acting as if I was their savior, and a little twitch of the mouth from her boyfriend. Giving her a smug smile, I walked off to talk to some of the skaters. At least they keep it real.