Between the Lines | ✓

Cliche 2: Badboys Have Sex Everywhere

I pulled up to Jake's house, thanking Google Maps for getting me through it. In this fictional city, with fictional streets and fictional people, I was a fish out of water. It had been after I pulled onto the curb and swore enough to make my grandparents roll in their graves, I realised that I could phone a friend to bail me out of this predicament. 

Since it was confirmed that I was now indeed Xander Hart, the name 'Jake' could finally be matched to a person. Jake was Xander Hart's supposed best friend, the only one ever described in the book because the author couldn't be bothered describing more than one of Xander's friends. Jake was essentially Xander 2.0, but as always, slightly less hot, slightly less popular, but equally as problematic. 

Glancing at the clock and realising that we would be late for school, I quickly honked my horn, this Jake character walking out with no sense of urgency. The honey-blonde boy lightly jogged across his plush lawn, shooting me a thin-lipped grin. My foot tapped on my car's carpeting impatiently, not liking to be late.

"Sup, dude," Jake said, slinging his bag into the backseat and turning to me. Blue eyes rose as my supposed best friend took in my antsy demeanour when I quickly asked him where to go, my 'friend' looking at me like I had grown two heads. 

"I... had a fever and... things are fuzzy," I tried to explain dumbly, but it turned out that Jake was even dumber, and just nodded like that was a completely valid excuse for having severe memory loss. Jake quickly gave me directions, and I hastily sped off.

"Jeez, what's the hurry?"

"We're gonna be late," I replied simply, still wincing at the foreign voice that peeled itself from my changed vocal cords. Jake raised an eyebrow.

"And you care... why? It's not like you turn up to school half the time," Jake said, and I groaned internally. Of course 'Xander' wouldn't care about attendance, of course he would have no regard for his education or his future. Of course, as a fictional character, he could succeed in life by just being a hot badboy. He could get the girl and  become rich because it's totally believable that every hot 18-year-old can suddenly get out of highschool and become a high-powered CEO a la Christian Grey.

But, I was not Xander, and just rolled my eyes at Jake's words in response to his question.

"I need to go to school to graduate," I replied simply, Jake snorting.

"Like I said, you never cared before," Jake snickered, and I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Well, I care now, okay?" I replied flatly, my voice coming out sharper than intended, Xander's natural demeanour making my words that would have usually sounded softly exasperated harsh and biting instead. Jake's eye twitched at my tone, but the boy just rolled his eyes and crossed his arms in front of his chest, lazily telling me to turn left at the next intersection.

It didn't take long to get to school from there, and when we arrived I quickly ditched Jake, who had been giving me slightly frustrated looks the entire car trip. He was likely picking up on my odd persona, and I didn't blame the guy. To not give anything away or get locked up in a mental institution, I tried to be a little like Xander, which was slightly achievable considering he didn't really have much of a personality to emulate. But, I couldn't be that asshole, not even if I tried.

Making a beeline towards student services, I ignored the way students in the halls parted in front of me like the Red Sea, glancing at me with a mixture of weariness and interest. The staff, on the other hand, watched me with narrowed eyes, especially the woman working at the front desk.

Her soft cardigan hid a well-fed body, greying hair tied up into a chignon that was still in pristine condition since a day of dealing with hormonal and angsty teenagers had not yet begun. When she saw me, I could feel the sigh fall from her mouth before she spoke.