Rise from Ashes

If life was a story

hey there fellow wattpadians! this is the second chapter in this trail book. i still want you to tell me what you think of this book so far, okay, i will let you read now.

enjoy!

Chapter two: If life was a story. 

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chapter two

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“Watch it!” Some cheerleader yells when she gets in my way, like it was my fault she doesn't know how to navigate the treacherous void of South Pacific high school. Pah-lease.

I just ignore her and keep going. Now if this was a story I would be the classic nerd who cowers under the intense gaze of the head cheerleader until I was close to tears, then some how suddenly the nerd (aka me) would find some random inner strength and use it to defeat and scare away the head cheerleader while simultaneously stealing her quarterback boyfriend. Oh and he would probably be a vampire or some crap like that.

But since this isn't a movie or a book this was my life I ignored her, she forgot about it and that was that. Now I am not stereotyping all cheerleaders to be like that, just that one. I used to be a cheerleader so I know how hard it was not to be stereotyped as stupid and a bimbo. I always used to hate it at my school, but here? The stereotypes are mostly right. They probably originated here.

The day went by without drama, like most other days. Since we moved here I kind of just dropped out of the social hierarchy of high school. I used to be on the top and make fun of people, who, admittedly remind me of how I am now. Nerdy. Sense I don't have the money for designer brands and don't care enough to try that hard to fit in and make friends, besides Lizzie of course, that is my classification. But who cares? These people don't have to deal with the shit I have too. They have it good in comparison. Life just isn't fair, I guess.

Today I'm wearing the same hoodie I slept in last night, my alarm didn't go off so I had to hurry to get ready, and some walmart jeans that were on the floor. Yeah, like I said, far from designer, but they were comfy, so I cant complain too much.

Dear god if my old friends could see me now. They would probably think it was a joke, then shit a brick. That's how much I've changed.

I see Lizzies twin, Luke, in the hallway. Lizzie and Luke look nothing alike. Lizzie is all twig like and has long blonde hair that goes down to her waist, with warm brown eyes and a rather big ski slop sort of nose that makes here look like she is sticking her nose in the air. Luke on the other hand has light brown hair, green eyes and a little button noise that looks a little feminine, but works on him.

“Hey where's Lizzie?” I ask Luke. Lizzie texted me to meet her but I have no idea where.

“I don't know, I'm not her keeper,” he reply's while raising an eyebrow as if it was a challenge. Weird.

“Okay, well thanks anyways, I guess.” There might have been I smidge of sarcasm in that statement. Just a smidge. As I'm turning to go I run into someone who must have been standing right behind me.

“Excuse me!” I say as my forehead rams into someones chin. Ow.

“Watch it nerd.” Is the only answer.

I glare at the kid in front of my. He is reeking of pot and tobacco. Lovely combination. Not.

The guy in front of me is your typical stoner. His dark blue eyes a hazy red, hat that covers probably unwashed hair and baggy clothes that reek of extra curricular activities. Lip and eyebrow piercing. Pretty typical. Not the kind of guy you want your kids to hang around with.