The Story That Has Everything (A Parody) - COMPLETED

Here be an introductory title

Hello! :)
This is a parody. It is meant to poke fun at clichés only, not specific stories, characters or authors. I do believe that there are many well-written and excellent stories out there which happen to take a so-called cliché and turn it into something very unique and special. This here is only going to be a short story; a little something I had to start writing to get it out of my system. Hope you like it. If you do, let me know! :D

But now, let's play: How many clichés can you spot?

Chapter 1

BEEP!
BEEP!
BEEP!
BEEP!
BEEP!
BEEBEEP!
BEEBEEP!
BEEBEEP!

Uh! The alarm clock is ringing. I hate alarm clocks. I hate mornings.

Oh, I guess it’s time to introduce myself: my name is Toda. And this is my story.

I’m 5’6’’, have long, silky, blond hair cascading down my back to my hips, the brightest aqua blue eyes you have ever seen, the thickest black eyelashes (despite me being a natural blond), soft cherry pink lips, a body every top model only dreams about, breath as fresh as spearmint (even if I have just devoured a whole onion pizza – my favorite food), the most velvety voice you’ve ever heard, and flawless porcelain skin. Oh, except for a tiny beauty spot which looks like a little straight, vertical line – right at the corner of my right eyebrow.

And yes. You guessed right. I’m a nerd. Everyone makes fun of me. Probably because I’m so ugly with my thick glasses and my braided hair. And I have no friends. Never had. Not even one single friend. Not one.

My best friend is Marrano. He lives in the house next door. We’ve been friends since forever. Best friends. We tell each other everything. We usually do that right before we fall asleep to each other because he always stays overnight at my house. In my bedroom. Sharing my single bed with me. But that’s totally okay. Neither his parents nor my mom (my father died right after I was born) have any problems with two hormonal teenagers of the opposite sex sharing a bedstead with each other. And really, why should they? They take their parenting seriously.

Let me tell you a little bit about Marrano. He’s my best friend. Have I said that already? I guess not. But he is. Marrano is my best friend. Even worse? He is the boy I’m in love with. He’s tall and the hottest guy in our school district. Every girl wants him. No wonder. He has midnight black hair and the most beautiful piercing eyes – one in the brightest blue, one in the brightest green. His smile is perfect. His strong cheekbones and jaw are perfect. Don’t let me even get started on the rest of his body. He is the sexy love child of a gay Greek God-met-Abercrombie & Fitch-model couple. Only lookwise, not literally, of course. (Our teacher told us guys can’t get pregnant.) Marrano used to have a sixpack when he was younger. Totally hot. But now that he’s older, his abs have outgrown his childish body. He is currently sporting a dozenpack. Swoon!

And I get to see it every night since he only sleeps in his boxer shorts. Perks of being his best friend in which he shows no interest in at all. Sadly. And why should he? I’m just me. I’m nothing special, always hiding behind my books, trying to keep my perfect grade so that I get to be valedictorian again. Yes, again. Since I started high school, I was voted valedictorian every year for all the graduating classes, even though I never was part of their class. It’s just, I am so smart, that I was the only choice. And although I am so smart, I haven’t skipped a class. I’m still in high school. This year is my senior year. I’m struggling to get a scholarship for college. My dream? Harvard, Yale, Stanford, Princeton and Columbia. All five of them at the same time. I figured I could commute between them, one college for every day of the week. Shouldn’t be a problem. If I get the scholarships, that is.