CHAPTER 8 (EDITED)
If you enter this world knowing you are loved and you leave this world knowing the same, then everything that happens in between can be dealt with. – Michael Jackson
I walked into math class with my head hanging low. I already knew I was going to get a scolding from Mr. Barker. It was bad already enough that I had gotten detention from him, but to get another before morning announcements even started was a whole other issue altogether. Hopefully they don't call home. The last thing I wanted was two detentions and to be grounded.
"You're late, Johnson," came Mr. Barker's bark. He he, that rhymed.
I puffed out my cheeks, and looked him in the eyes. I could literally see the glee in them, which in all honesty, made me want to strangle him. However, I didn't want to go to jail, or juvie for attempted murder. So I did the next best thing. A fake smile spread across my lips on my face as I tried to apologize. "Sorry Mr. Barker, I ―" Mr. Barker had simply cut my off by throwing a pink ball at my forehead. The class laughed at my expense, and I was tempted to stick my middle finger up at them, but that would probably earn me another detention.
"Bastard," I muttered under my breath as I leaned down to pick up the piece of paper.
"Tomorrow after school, yeah, yeah, I know the drill," I muttered. Mr. Barker's eyebrows scrunched up in anger and before I knew it another slip of paper was in my hand. "Then it would do you good to know how to respect your elders," Mr. Barker smirked. "You can go sit now."
By now the whole class was in a series of giggles, which wasn't cool. With a sigh I plopped down into my seat, and placed my stuff on the cheap wooden desk. Amber shot me a look that practically screamed, 'what the hell'. However, I just looked away, not really bothered to respond back.
I was just tired of everyone picking on me.
The few days I've spent in New York kind of, I don't know, changed me. While I was on the set with Ashton I felt ... powerful? I actually felt pretty, which was a major contrast to what I was now. I wore baggy jeans, ripped sneakers, and a t-shirt that had Star Wars on it. Not really something you would consider attractive.
I looked over to Amber, and grimaced. Amber was, like I've said many times, a picture of perfection as she sat straight in her chair. She wore white skinny jeans with golden studs, a soft peach-colored sweater that complimented her skin color wonderfully and her hair was wrapped neatly into a high bun.
I wanted to be like her; I wanted to be like the Rosalie that was in New York. I pursed my lips, and sighed. But I shouldn't care. I never did before, so why should I now? I sighed and opened my binder to a blank sheet of line paper.
I looked at the white board, and began copying down the equations we were supposed to solve. It wasn't anything too complicated, but it was supposed to help us study for exams in two weeks time.
Solve for 'y'
2 + 6y + 4 = 0
I swear we learned this in grade nine. How was any of this ―
I felt a nudge on my shoulder, and when I turned I saw Amber holding a piece of paper out towards me. I looked at Mr. Barker to make sure he wasn't looking, and when I saw his back turned us, I quickly grabbed the piece of paper and unfolded it.
What's got you in the dumps?
I grimaced at Amber's choice of language, and scribbled down a reply quickly before handing it back to her.
I just got three detentions. Why wouldn't I be in the dumps?
I watched Amber purse her lips before shaking her head.
"Meet by the parking lot at lunch," she demanded quietly before returning back to her work. I sighed and continued doing what I was doing. Now, where was I?
I breezed through the questions pretty easily and before I knew it the bell rang. Time for second period, yippee! Please feel free to note the sarcasm. I exited the room quickly with Amber on my trail; I could literally feel her eyes burning a hole through my head.
"Rosie, you know you can always talk to me, right?" Amber questioned. It was true. There were many times that I've gone to Amber when something was troubling me, and most of the time she resolved it. I knew that this issue I was dealing with could be easily solved with the helping hands of Amber. I mean, fashion came naturally to her. She knew the latest trends, what looked best, and what could get people's attention without looking trashy.
Though if there was one thing I knew about Amber is proving people wrong. On many occasions Amber had tried to convince me to wear clothes and makeup I didn't typically wear. The only time Amber ever achieved of doing so was the night I met the Anderson's. Other than that all her attempts failed miserably with a rejected 'no'.
So asking her was out of the question.
"I have to go, see you at lunch," I muttered, and I quickly headed down the hallway to the art department.
"Damn," I swore as I dropped my pencil case. I bent down to pick it up only to have snatched out of my view.
"Hey, there princess, looking for this?" I looked up to see Daniel ― one of Damien's "friends" ― with a sly grin on his face as he threw my pencil case in the air and caught it repeatedly.
I placed my hands on my hips and shot him a deadly glare, but he only laughed. "Awe, don't give me that look," Daniel teased as he started to circle around me like he was the predator and I was the prey. What the hell was this, Lion King?
"I'll give you this back," he said waving the pencil case in my face, "if you tell me what's going on between you and Davis," Daniel smirked as he leaned back against one of the lockers looking at me with a triumphant glint in his eyes. This guy wasn't serious was he?
"Nothing is going on between Davis and I," I stated, which wasn't a lie. Davis and I may have kissed here and there, but we have never been on dates or alone together for more than two seconds. Plus, what made him think Davis and I had something going on? I thought everyone was talking about Damien and I? I stuck out my hand to grab the pencil case, but Daniel only smiled in amusement, and pulled it out of my reach.
"Nuh uh, there's something going on between you two, and you're going to tell me or this will end up in the toilet," he stated clearly. I rolled my eyes this time. Wow, he really was an idiot. Did he really think I care about my pencil case that much? It was just a pencil case.
"Fine go ahead, it's just a pencil case, I can buy another," I stated and started walking to my next period class. I'll just borrow a pencil from someone else.
"Not so fast sweet cheeks," came Daniel’s sweet reply before he slammed me into the lockers, a loud bang resonating through the hallways.
"I tried to play nice-"
"Let her go Daniel."
YOU ARE READING
The MakeoverTeen Fiction
Rosalie has been teased all her life because she wasn't pretty, and to be honest she never really cared. She went with the flow and if looking like a mess was apart of it, then so be it. However, what if one day something made her change her opinion...