The Makeover

The Makeover [3]

The Makeover
CHAPTER 3 (EDITED)

It was all that stuff about taking your parents' car when you're 13, sneaking booze into rock shows and ditching school with your friends. I could relate to that as a former teenager, rather than as a present parent. – Donal Logue

                                         Rosalie Johnson

The holidays were finally over. However, from the moment I stepped onto the school grounds, I wished that the winter holidays had never ended.

Just a few more months Rosalie, just a few more months, I chanted in my head as I walked down the hallway towards my locker.

I tried to remind myself that graduation was only just a couple of months away, but it did nothing to really comfort me. My heart panged at the thought of having to suffer at least another five months of school.

Although the taunting of the others never really got to me and it hasn't been that often lately, it still annoyed me that people just wouldn't drop it already.

I got it, I wasn't pretty. You don't have to tell me every single time you got a chance.

By now, the school was practically empty, which wasn't surprising since school had ended twenty minutes ago. Who would want to stay after school when you could be at home?

So why am I still here?

Well, I sort of, maybe, got detention. It wasn't my fault. Someone had bumped into me and I spilled my can of soda. The guy who did it looked familiar, but he didn't even apologize. He only smirked and sent me a sarcastic wink. Weird. And surprise, surprise, I got detention from Mr. Barker, who just so happened to be walking by. My punishment was cleaning the whole hallway. Luckily, he had let me use a mop to clean it and not something else … like a toothbrush.

Opening my locker, I was greeted by a large amount of mess and clutter that looked ready to topple over. Being organized was one of my New Year’s resolutions, but that was not going so well.

"Damn," I swore under my breath. How did I even get my bag to fit inside this piece of junk? And when I said piece of junk, I meant it. The bloody school was twenty-six years old and the last time they had replaced the lockers was ... never. They were rusty and smelled really bad. Heck, the one shelf that it had was ready to fall apart!

Taking the biggest risk of my life—well, not really—I pulled out my bag as quickly as possible, which when I look back, seemed pretty stupid.

Papers and textbooks fell like a game of Jenga. All my stuff scattered around the hallway, creating an even bigger mess than the one that was in my locker.

Sighing, I slowly began stuffing my things back into my locker without a care. Geez, this was a lot of work for someone as lazy as me. I wasn't prepared to waste my time putting everything back neatly. It would take forever! I should have been gone by now.

Picking up the last two books from the floor, I saw the Beauty and Style Guide. The edge of the book had been slightly dented in; either from it falling or from when I crammed it into my locker earlier. I wasn't sure, but either way, it looked like shit.

I had officially finished the book over the holidays and had made no moves to obey what it said. The things it described seemed logical, but, at the same time, very superficial. And I was not superficial. Never was, never will be.

So, I did the only thing I could think of, which was to hunt Davis down. This wasn't as easy as it sounded. It was like trying to locate Batman's cave, you would never find it.