Pinky Promise?

Chapter 1

------------------------

---------------------------------

--------------------------------------------

-----------------------------------

-------------------------

Prologue:

Boys in high school are wolves. They prey off the innocent girls that wander in, looking for nothing more than someone who genuinely cares about them, yet all they get is some guy who chews them up and spits them out.

I don't just say this for the fun of it. I have plenty of experience. I may be a freshman, but I've learned more about cowardly high school boys in the last three months than most people will ever learn in their entire lifetime. No joke. It's easy to say that it was all their fault and not mine, but in reality, I was too vulnerable. I stopped kidding myself a long time ago that I didn't do anything wrong.

What I had done wrong was trust them.

Entering high school, I'll admit, the max of my guy experience consisted of running away blushing from any guy who would flash me a smile or a wink.  I'd kid myself by acting hurt anytime the guy I liked didn't live up to my expectations and look outside my window playing a love song, sitting in the dark, watching sad movies and eating ice cream, all the while blasting sad songs on my Ipod. But boy, who was I kidding?

Now that I'm done boring you with my small rant, how bout I actually tell you what happened?

-------------------------------------------------

Chapter 1:

Do you know what amazes me about girls? They wear the skankiest things, and cover their faces with so much crap mainly just to get attention from males. Be honest, do you think we would ever put ourselves through the abuse of shaving, waxing, tweezing, fake eyelashes and stabbing ourselves acccidentaly with a mascara brush every so often if there weren't hot men on the Earth?

Didn't think so.

These thoughts occupied my mind the morning of my very first day of high school. It was one of those mornings that felt so surreal, like none of it actually happened and you were just imagining it. The surrealness was probably because I had to wake up at 5 in the morning just to allot enough time to get ready for my day.

--------------

Sighing heavily and anticipating the coming day, I trudge out of bed and walk to my bathroom ,turning on my curling iron while also spreading my barely used make up across the counter. I had my outfit picked out for the last month, so it's already ironed and ready to go. I turn on my Idock and turn up some Tech N9ne.

The make up feels unnatural and uncomfortable on my narrow face because I rarely use it unless its a special occasion. It was like in middle school, no one could care less about make up or cute clothes but now it was the battle of who could show up to school looking the sluttiest.

Sighing once again, I pat some brown and pink on my lids and brush a thin layer of foundation on my olive toned skin. After that, I apply a thin layer of eyeliner around my aqua colored eyes. After deciding to wait after I finish my hair to do anything else with my make up, I start forming waves by wrapping each strand of long black hair around the iron.

It took almost an hour to finish my hair, but it was totally worth it. My long black hair is shining and bouncing with the subtle waves the curling iron had created.

Once I'm completely satisfied with my hair, I brush on a little blush and brush my teeth before I put on a little bit of a soft pink lip gloss. I smile weakly in the mirror then walked back to my room to put on my clothes.