Chapter 1- Cheaters Never Prosper

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Hey guys, do me a favor and please point out any errors and or inconsistencies and I'll try and do my best to fix them. Nicely please. Thanks. If you enjoy this story please vote and comment. I like reading what you guys think. Without further a due.



"Go D, Go D! It's your birthday, it's your birthday! We're gonna party like it's your birthday and we don't really care if it's not cha' birthday! Whooooa!" My friends, along with the rest of the cafeteria chanted as I attempted to dance like Michael Jackson on top of the lunch table. And I say attempted because I was totally failing. Anyways, if you were wondering why I was dancing on top of the table, it's because of two words 'Moving Day.'

My uncle Lawson passed away and my dad says we have to go back to his home town to live. I had no idea why. Couldn't we just go to the funeral and come back home? No offense but I barely knew him and now I have to drop everything; my life, my friends and my home to go back to some small town. Sigh. Worst yet, we don't even have time to throw a going away party seeing as our parents told us-my brother, Ethan and I-yesterday and we're leaving tonight. I was going to make the best out of my last day and then some.

My brother wasn't in the cafeteria so I assumed that he was stowed away in a janitor's closet somewhere banging some girl—I doubt he knew her name, not that she'd care—enjoying his last day as well. I on the other hand, have a steady boyfriend, Derek. We've been going out for three months now. That's officially my longest relationship ever. Yay me!

Back to the present. I had given up on dancing like Michael Jackson (Rest in Peace to the King of POP) and did what I was best at, the hips, Shakira style. The cheering turned into whistles and glares. Dalvin, one of the guys at my table, hopped onto the table behind me and started grinding on me. I bent over and shook my ass, the cheers came louder. I straightened up and unwrapped Dalvin's arms from around me. There were a lot of 'awww's' as I jumped off the table.

"I'll be right back, just going to get my speaker from my locker." I reassured them. The 'awww's' turned into 'whoa's'.
I walked down the halls thinking about all the fun times I spent in them. I would miss these walls, its beige paint peeling away with age, the rows of green lockers that have been vandalized by me on more than one occasion. The funny classes, teachers...and friends. I can't believe they're making me move. Damn them!

I was almost to my locker when I heard moaning coming from the janitor's closet. I laughed quietly to myself. I had a feeling I knew who was in there. I crept up to the door slowly and prepared myself for what I was about to see and flew the door open. The large grin I had on my face fell into a scowl. Nothing could have prepared me for this. Blonde headed bitch, Brittney was between someone's legs with no shirt on. The boy was also shirtless. His baby blue eye that I use to adore went wide with shock, his mouth hung open but nothing came out. Brittney still hadn't looked up yet.

"Ba-ba-baby," he stuttered. I stood still as the growing anger circulated throughout my body. "It's no-not what you th-think." That sent me over the edge. How dear he lie to my face!

I stomped over to them, fists clenched. I wrenched Brittney by her fake hair, making her yelp then threw her to the floor. I turned back to the boy, my former boyfriend, Derek. I didn't want to cry like those weak little girls. I didn't want him to say he was sorry and patch things up, NO! I felt hurt but that quickly passed as the anger overwhelmed me.

He stood up trying to make an excuse but I wouldn't listen. His pants were still down and I took the opportunity to take my revenge. I pulled my leg back and before he could take cover, launched it forward with as much force as my little body could manifest. Kicking him hard in his groin. He howled in pain as he fell to the floor. It was satisfying to see him lying there, on the floor, with his hands between his legs where Brittney once was. The look of pain on his face was like ice-cream on a hot summer's day.

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