The Dirty Little Secret of A Plastic Surgeon's Daughter

1st day of hell (or what grownups like to call high school) - Chapter One

Authors note: I wrote this on my iPhone, so sorry if there are errors.

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I'm sitting in English class, hunched over my desk, and staring at the all too 'interesting' scene outside the window. Now, the only reason this 'scene' is interesting is because we're reviewing Shakespeare today.

Don't get me wrong, I adore Shakespeare, but I can't understand the guy. So here I am staring out a foggy window as the giddy students around me pass notes.

I've never had a note passed to me unless it was one of hate. Or one from a guy looking for some easy girl to bang. But I was never that girl, so those notes stopped.

Today is Monday. Why am I telling you this? Well, this is the first Monday of my high school life, that I will spend completely socially detached. I just know this day won't go well.

The bell rings, signalling it's time for lunch; and everybody rushes out of the classroom; in relief that class is over (even the teacher). But I, having nothing to look forward to (or anybody to talk to), surreptiously stroll out of the room.

Once I finally reach the food encrusted cafeteria doors, I shove it with my elbows, open. That would leave a stain on my new, pink sweater.

I am now left here to stand, facing all the lunch tables I am forbidden to sit at; and just watch. Maybe even wait. Just wait for something to happen.

Just then I feel a soggy hamburger collide with the right side of my face. I snap my head to the direction the hamburger flew from. I see a few junior boys snickering and pointing at me. Real mature. One of them calms down, finally, and gets up to walk over to me. I slowly back away like the idiot I am, but end up cornered by the junior and a wall.

He cornered me so closely that his breath was literally in my face, and I was beginning to gag from his steamy, hamburger breath. Whoever said guys being so close to you was romantic, obviously couldn't smell.

But back to the situation: junior boy, hamburger breath, cornered.

"What do you want?" I said genuinely terrified that I would faint if I spent one more second with 'smelly breath' over here.

He chuckled and my eyes began to form tears, which he wiped with his callaced thumb.

"Thanks."

I mumbled shyly.

"Do you want to sit with us?"

He asked and I just stared defiantly into his electric green eyes.

"Why would I want to sit with you when you threw your hamburger at me? By the way, your breath stinks."

He said nothing as he roughly pulled me from the wall and back to his table. I felt eyes from all over the cafeteria, plastered on me. Why were they staring? Who was this guy anyway? As a sophmore I was still helplessly unaware of who was who in this school.

He shoved me down onto a cold, hard, plastic chair; and I glared at him as he took residency in the chair across from me (of course a table was separating us, so I couldn't choke him without being restricted).

I still had no lunch because I wasn't given the chance to even join the line, before 'hamburger breath' decided to thrust his hamburger at my face in all his glory. He realized this and handed me an apple from his tray, and grabbed a cheese sandwich from his friends tray (who was sitting right next to him, and began to glare at him) . I chuckled and mumbled,

"Thanks."

He nodded.

"What is your name?"

I asked out of an abrupt course of curiousity.

"Patrick. But my girly friends call me Pat because I 'pat' them so well."

He replied smugly and I almost choked. His words were followed but hoots and howls from his clearly immature friends.

I rolled my eyes at their obvious stupidity.

"Well I'm Emily Ballemount." I said as I Split the cheese sandwich into two peices and shoved the smallest peice in mouth.

"I know who you are, my mother has visited your father's office many times."

I know my father is a plastic surgeon and all, but by the way Patrick said 'office'; I instantly became uncomfortable.

"Oh."

Was all I could muster myself to say.

I then just focused on how moldy my cheese sandwich tasted (school lunch of course), and listened to the guys talk about girls, sports, and here's a shocker, more girls! I couldn't recall how many times I had scoffed during their conversation.

All too quickly lunch was over and I sprouted up from my seat and out the green lunchroom doors and into the much better smelling hallway (no hamburger smell anywhere).

I then heard Patrick calling after me and I idiotically sprinted for my next class. But of course, Mr. Captain of the football team, caught up with me and captured me by the hips.

I began a feverful struggle and commenced to scream, he clamped a hand over my mouth.

"Relax, just wanted to escort you to our next class."

He quickly unclamped his hand from my mouth, making a popping noise.

"Why the hell won't you leave me alone?"

I yelled in confusion and frustration. Where boys always so anoying? I wouldn't know, today was my first 'real' interraction with the male species.

"Relax! I have this class with you, sheesh."

He yelled at me, then muttered the last part to himself.

"Fine."

I stubbornly replied as he released me. We silently made our way to our next class. Once we arrived to history (five minutes late) I sat in a seat in the alcove of the room (located in the back of the room, btw don't ask why a classroom would have an alcove because it just does).

Patrick sat right in front of me, blocking my view of the teacher. Aw well...

I was bored by the middle of class, so I crept my hand into patrick's bag and took his iPhone. I started playing some music and found out he was a fan of hip hop. Not my kind of music but aw well.

A few minutes later, Patrick extended his hand backwards, there was a crumpled peice of paper in his hand. Was it for me?

I snatched it out of his hand and read it, the note said:

"Your cute when you steal my things and think I don't notice."

I smiled at that, I'm not sure why. Maybe because it was my very first proper not? Maybe because he might actually want to be my friend, and bot try to bang me. Or maybe I'm blowing a tiny, little note out of proportions?