My Life Is a Bad Teen Novel

1. Jamie and the Mean Girl

I should start this off properly.

Hi. My name is Persephone Rose Malone (oh, and I hate my mom for naming me "Persephone"), but I go by Perci for obvious reasons. I'm going to give you the basics about me.

Sex: Female

Race: Caucasian.

Age: 17

Hair: Chestnut brown, wavy, falls down to the tips of my shoulder blades.

Eyes: Forest green.

Height: Five feet, six and three quarters inches.

Weight: 119.25 lbs.

Allergies: Sulfonamide.

Current Medications: Multivitamin once a day, 20mg Methylphenidate twice daily, and occasionally some aspirin.

Past Surgeries: Adenoids removed, 2010.

Sexually Active: HA!

As I mentioned before, I moved from Seattle to go and live with my dad in Michigan. He's a plant manger there for some company that makes car parts. He does pretty well for himself I guess, but that could also be because he never really had much family to pay for. I arrived in Michigan around mid-July and took the summer to settle in. Nothing terribly exciting happened. I stayed home and organized my stuff, my dad went out fishing with his buddies, and I was enjoying the general peace and quite of not being around my mother. All in all, it was a pretty nice summer. But this really all begins with the first day of school.

I woke up that day, as usual, to the sound of my iPhone making some god-awful siren noise, my alarm, signaling me that it's time to start my day. I spent a few minutes sitting on the edge of my bed trying to wake up. Then it was time to get ready.

Ok Perci, first day at a new school. Gotta make a good impression.

I don't remember exactly how long it took me to pick out my clothes for that day, but I remember settling on a pair of black skinny jeans, red high-top converse, and a Radiohead t-shirt. Then I washed my face, brushed my teeth, and was out the door. There you go. My morning routine. I always shower the night before and I never make breakfast-too lazy, so there isn't much more to go into.

What possessed my father to do this, I'll never know, but when he found out I was living here he purchased a fancy new Volkswagen Jetta specifically for my use. Black, with a tan leather interior. He said it was because he can't be expected to drive me around, him having to work and all, but I suspect he was trying to make up eleven years of not spending much time with his daughter. Not that it was all his fault; I heard the custody battle was pretty brutal. In any case, I was happy to have my own transportation.

I found that the drive to school was only about ten minutes depending on the traffic and how you hit the lights. I arrived with plenty of time before my first class, so plenty of time for me to look get lost. I got out of my car, gathered my things, and headed up to the school with my nose to the class schedule I was studying. I misjudged the height of the stairs. The rubber toe of my converse grazed the edge of the last step and I crashed to the ground.

God, I'm such a klutz.

I tore a hole in my jeans.

And some asshole was laughing at me. (Not that I blame him, I would have done the same in his position.)

Great start, Perci.

Anyway, I gathered up my few papers as quickly as possible, trying hard to avoid eye contact with the other people pouring into the building, and headed off to my assigned locker. Number 243. Right next to this kid named Jamie Thompson. Apparently, he was witness to the fall, because he turned to me and said, "Sorry about your jeans. I hope you're not hurt."

"No. I'm fine, thanks."

We exchanged names and he initiated small talk. According to him, I *must* be new (never mind the fact that I actually was) and he began to give me a quick rundown of things. Nothing in depth, just about classes, teachers, etc. He said he would walk me to my first class (math), so I accepted.

Aside from the fact that he looked like he could be a model for PACSUN's summer catalogue, I remember getting the impression that he was a pretty good guy. And, yes, very good looking. He was tall, tan, blonde, and extremely well built (as revealed by his skin tight t-shirt). Good smile too. Perfectly white teeth.

So there we were, walking to class together. Now enter The Bitch.

The Bitch, or Heather DeVil, was (as you might have guessed) the school's resident bitch. She met all of the qualifications:

She was blonde.

She was a bitch.

She was skinny.

She was a bitch.

She was popular.

She was a bitch.

She was a cheerleader.

She was a bitch.

And she acted like she was the hottest thing since Kim K's sex tape.

Actually, I don't know if that was hot or not. I never actually saw it.

But you get my meaning.

So there we were, Jamie and I, now standing outside of my math class, and over marches Heather DeVil. We had never made eye contact; we had never spoken before, then BAM!

LOOKIN' LIKE A FOOL WITH YOUR BOOKS ON THE GROUND!

Well, I was at least.

Bitch knocked my textbook right out of my hands and for the second time that morning, I had to gather my belongings from off the floor.

Heather tarried just long enough to spit out, "What? You think you can just cozy on up to Jamie because you're the new girl? You're such a klutz! Nobody will ever want you, you stupid, fat slut!"

"Hey!" It seemed Jamie felt inclined to defend my honor and he stepped forward to give Heather a scathing reply.

"You leave her alone!"

Yup, scathing. Although, it somehow worked. Heather gave a sort of hmph sound and strutted off. I knelt on the ground, staring open-mouthed and awestruck.

Dafaq is her problem?

I was also a bit confused on how she chose her insults. Sure, she could have seen me fall, that explains "klutz," but I already know that I can't walk two steps without hurting myself. Being informed of that wouldn't hurt me anymore than my bruised knee.

And I was in all honor classes, and (I would like to take this opportunity to mention) she was not. So there was no right to call me stupid.

Also, it's pretty impossible to be fat when you were forced to be vegan for eleven years.

And I couldn't possible be a slut as I hadn't even flirted with anyone one there.

As for nobody ever wanting me, well...

I guess some people can't be understood.

Jamie had bent down to help me pick up my things.

Really, his shirt could not have been any tighter.

"She just jealous, you know?" He said this as he handed me my papers.

I remember thinking of what?

He lowered his voice to a whisper. "Because you're so pretty."

I swear to God that is what he said. He blushed too. Ears turned bright red. Hand to God. Seriously, if you could see me right now, you would see my right over my heart, my left hand held high.

I told him thanks, and in all honesty, probably blushed myself.

He helped me to my feet and stared at me with his large, blue eyes. "I'll see you later, Perci."

"You too." I replied. "And thanks again for everything."

He waved and walked away, Hurley backpack flung over his muscular shoulders.

Oh, he had a nice ass too.

I watched until he was out of sight, then took a seat for math.