Welcome to my first story on Wattpad! This is officially my first time writing a full length story, and I began this book when I was just 13. Though I have tweaked the rougher parts of the story a bit, the beginning is still a bit rocky and hard to get into. With that being said, I hope you can still enjoy my book and watch as my writing progresses for the better in later chapters. Don't forget to vote and comment your opinions or if you feel there's something I could fix!
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P h o t o #1 - A Photograph To Start It All
Saying that I thought this school was tragically full of idiotic students was a completely humongous understatement.
Currently, after fishing through my emergency pocket-sized Oxford Dictionary during my little study sessions when I had the free-time, which I seemed to have a lot of these days, I still had yet to find a strong enough word that correctly described my female classmates idiocy at that exact moment; as I watched them superficially scratch each other's eyes out. Yet even though I tried everything within my power to steer clear of anything coming close to this dreadful scene - and I was pretty good at it too - somehow I was used to all of this ruckus going on in front of me.
I pushed myself past the dozens of squealing girls, trying with all of my might to get to my locker, seemingly just out of my reach. 'It's like a damn Justin Bieber concert up in the main hallway.' I thought angrily. Just as I finally felt a bit of hope swell in my chest as my eyes landed on my melancholy purple locker, I suddenly felt two hands latch onto my shoulders, long nails digging into my pale skin. I yelped out at the suddenness of a touch filled with animosity directed my way.
"Watch it. We all get our turns to talk to them!" A clearly artificial red-head with unnerving spider-legged eyelashes barked at me as she flung me to the ground, staring down at me like I was some pest she was personally told to get rid of.
I dropped to the unforgiving tiled floor with a loud thud, but the noise was lost in the wave of jumpy questions and excited hand gestures that the girls dished out in the direction opposite of mine. There was so much giggling and yelling going on in the hallway, my bottom hitting the cold floor couldn't be heard over the chaos. Not that anyone would so much as give me a hand to help myself get steady.
I clutched my bag to my chest so it didn't hit the ground with me. As the crowd raged on, only one thought crossed my mind. I knew for a fact that I didn't want my Nikon D3100 to dent, scratch, or god forbid break. Even if it was in its homemade snug compartment at the bottom of my ratty bag, I was still always a bit wary when with it. I had known, somewhere in the back of my head, that it was a bad idea to bring my beloved camera in today, but I was a lost cause when it came to helping myself. I should have remembered that the first day of every year was always like this: rowdy, chaotic, unnecessary. Plus, now that I was going to be late getting home due to this thorn in my side, I wouldn't even be able to take any pictures of the gorgeous, ever-changing scenery that hid behind the school, just out of everyone's line if sight.
I guessed I was so attached to my little sanctuary because it reminded me of my current self.
With a pained sigh, I got up and ran my hand threw my long, black wavy locks, not wanting them to get anymore funny ideas about getting even messier than they already were. I adjusted my glasses on the bridge of my nose and brushed the small dust particles that stuck to my pants off that had clung to me from my tumble. After my little clean-up session, I scraped up whatever determination I had left in my awkwardly lanky 5'6" body. I wasn't going to give up without a fight! Ok, well, maybe not when I had nowhere near enough guts to even fight a fifth grader...
I shook my head realizing that my thoughts were getting off topic already. With a huge breath, I charged into the crowd head first. I couldn't just back down, I really did have to get home. It was a Wednesday, and that meant I couldn't "dilly-dally around" as my grandmother would say. To my surprise, I actually made it to my locker.
Well, by made it I mean I ran head first into Elliot Beau's chest. I really needed to do some more researching in that little Oxford Dictionary mine for milder words, because the vocabulary running through my head was definitely not lady like.
The whole group of girls all let out a melodramatic gasp at the same time, making my ears burn. Then everything went silent. I would have been grateful for the blissful silence if I wasn't basically breathing in the scent of Elliot's shirt. By the way, just in case you were wondering, he used Downy detergent to wash his clothes. Downy soft.
I slowly looked up to find myself looking into Elliot's big, unamused hazel eyes. I felt all color drain from my face with horror.
He looked down at me and shook his head, making his shaggy dark brown layers fall into his eyes. He looked at me with a sort of disappointment that made me want to punch his handsome face. "Sorry, but you're not really my type." He began arrogantly, like he was used to this kind of treatment and just answering another girl another all too simple question, "I'm not a huge fan of glasses, especially not those kind. And your eyes look like they belong to someone who just woke up from the dead. Are you trying to participate in the tradition this year or something?"
I felt shock take over the expression on my face, outrage washing over me as I processed these words that were just expressionlessly thrown at me. How uncalled for! Almost ready to take action on my anger, reality swirled around and bit me in the ass, because I quickly fixed my expression and stiffened, adjusting the hood that covered most of my head. I shook my head vigorously so he could get the picture. I didn't like speaking to people my age, especially not people like him, with a bad attitude and a face that looked like it could easily rule the world mercilessly.
"Oh, who's that? I dont think I've ever seen you before." A brunette boy with shiny brown eyes standing by Elliot perked up, a child-like smile and a innocent pink flush covered his boyish face. Immediately his profile came to mind. Cooper Appollo, a boy who loves to compliment every girl he sees, and probably means it as well. He was the only one I could stand in their group, given that whenever I saw him he was being just as painfully nice to everyone.
I just gave him a blank stare as he bounced up and down like a puppy showing off for a treat, checking out every feature of my body. I felt my face go up in flames at his wondering eyes.
"Emma Maria Leighs. Senior. Scorpio. She's in our Home Economics, Honors Trigonometry/Calc, and World History class." A black haired boy with short and neat locks sporting almost glossy dark brown eyes covered by a thin pair of glasses (that actually suited him quite well, which is saying something for glasses, especially the ones that basically lived on my face) said. Parker Foster.
I gave him an appalled look. 'How does he know that much about me...?' I questioned myself, trying to figure out if I ever leaked personal information, failing to control how completely weirded out I was. Finally finding my legs and taking a step back, I thought about how I had always thought I'd managed to stay in the shadows all these years. How did people actually know about me in any way, shape, or form?
"You're probably wondering why I know so much about you," As if reading my mind, Parker answered, "The answer to that question belongs only to me. Sorry about that." He answered slyly as he put a finger up to his lips and winked. I could literally feel the swoons that erupted behind me at his actions.
'These damn games they play...' I grunted at all of this, knowing this was not the first time I've seen any of them act this way. 'They really need to get knocked down a peg or two, stupid social hierarchy.'
Now that I began to really think about it, he probably had access to school files or something, and if not, he looked like the type who could crack the code to them without difficulty.
Blue irises pierced my left side. "Well, she doesn't seem like the type of girl who usually participates in the tradition, anyways." I heard from a blond boy to my left. His voice had startled me, making my face involuntarily turn to his direction. 'Finally! Someone understands-' I was about to finish my thought, until I came face to face with his cat-like (in the sense of how narrowed and untrustworthy he looked) blue-eyed glare boring into me. Jonas Keenan.
I shielded my eyes from everyone and tried to push my way through, not liking the attention of these attractive boys and crowd of girls full of glares.
I stopped in front of Cooper who was right in front of my locker, bouncing on his toes. He really had too much energy for a high school student...
"E-Excuse me..." I whispered looking down, trying to scoot him over. I may have a colorful vocabulary inside my head, but that doesn't mean I'm great at talking aloud.
His eyes widened. "You...You are so CUTE!" He said as he engulfed me into a huge hug. Another gasp ejected from the crowd of over stimulated females.
I squeaked out protests, surprised and confused at the same time that someone would even try to touch me like this. But it wasn't like I hadn't seen Cooper in the halls before, and I had known he was always handsy like this with pretty much everyone, but it had never even crossed my mind to think that his hormonal groping would ever steer in my direction.
I quickly pushed him away, uncomfortable by the sudden touching. "Oh," He said as his arms fell off my body, chuckling and moving out of my way, "Sorry!"
"Cooper, you think all girls are cute." Jonas let a out breath and shook his head behind me, which Cooper responded to with a slightly embarrassed nod and scratch of the back of his neck.
I couldn't believe what was unfolding around me. I didn't say another word as I straightened out my black hoodie and started to twist the rusty lock on my locker.
'Yup. I was definitely right. Idiot doesn't even justify what these people are.' I thought once again. 'Why can't I just avoid attention like this? Why does it always have to follow me in some stupid form, as if my life was some heinous sitcom?!'
I tuned out the voices of the four boys trying to calm down the girls around them, saying they needed to get the stuff ready for this semesters tradition, and trying to soothe all of the girls who felt the need to scream their worthiness of being "shot" into the sky.
Let me explain. Probably the weirdest thing to ever make it's way into Riverdale High's history was the tradition these four boys had come up with during the second semester of their freshman year. What had begun as a punishment consisting of taking pictures of the school's surrounding scenery for the yearbook committee after causing an uproar during a pep rally in their freshman year quickly took shape of what continues today, after they realized how many "fans" they had acquired for the stunt they pulled at the rally.
Let me tell you, I may not give two hoots about this tradition, but I'll have you know it causes some hellish traffic back-ups.
Anyways, the mayhem begins when these four go out on the streets lugging the most expensive camera ever to be held by inattentive teenage boys and setting it in the same spot next to the street branching off of the school's oversized parking lot each year. Then, at three o'clock on the dot, exactly twenty minutes after school gets out and everyone begins heading home, they take rapid fire pictures of whatever, or whoever, is clearly in front of the large lens at that exact moment. To make matters more competitive, they've stated that whoever is lucky enough to fight their way to the front and find themselves in the clearest picture they capture all while catching their interest will basically be pampered and payed attention to by all four of them for an entire semester, leaving the rest of the girls to fend for themselves.
It had to be the most vapid thing I had ever heard of. I didn't even know how they came up with such an insipid tradition. Probably just something they do just to entertain themselves, and to keep all of the girls flocking to their sides under control, because let's face it. I knew I wasn't blind, - sight impaired, yes, but I had glasses to fix that - and with stating that, I also knew that it was basic knowledge that these four ignoramuses were the most attractive guys I had seen in this huge town of ours.
Well, idiotic or not, every single girl at Riverdale High School was obsessed with it and willing to do anything to get selected; there are even rumors of girls from other local schools pleading to be allowed to participate. Another thing I've heard of are the dirty tricks and schemes being mixed into all of this pettiness. Whenever the "lucky" girl is picked, she thinks she's queen of the world. I guess in some cases, I would have to admit, she is. Well, not queen of the world, of course, but queen of the school? I'd have to agree, and for some reason that means a lot to every teenager attending Riverdale.
It almost made me sad that so many girls were in need of simple validation from boys they, for some reason, forced onto a pedestal for their looks and social status. Once I recalled how said girls often treated me, I could butterfly feel those emotions flock South. If they wished to fuel those four boys' egos then who was I to step in?
As I thought more about it in general, I figured that one of their father's had to be in cahoots with the principle, so I guess that was how they get away with their little antics that included riling up the entire student body. The first day of each semester is when they do this agonizing tradition that's been going on for four years. Ever since freshman year unfortunately, and seeing how it's the first day of senior year, it's the first day of the first semester.
I thought back to last years events, even though I barely paid attention to them, but it's kind of hard to ignored the fiasco when the whole school is always up to date with whatever these four are doing. I remembered the last girl they picked, Lucy Dixon, a blonde haired, blue eyed beauty that was in the grade below us. She ruled the school with an iron fist during the time she spent with those four boys, and the best part was that they acted like they didn't notice a thing, probably even whispering sweet nothings into her ears while she chowed down on the broken self esteem of a freshman girl I had heard of her brutally digging her claws into.
I got my homework and shoved it into my bag, listening as the boys walked towards the front school doors while the girls scurried after them. The crowd had finally dissipated.
I sighed as I walked down the halls to the end of the school where I parked my bike. Unfortunately, I still had yet to have my own car because my grandmother couldn't afford it, but that minor issue was fine by me. I was totally okay with the dark purple bike she had given me for my 15th birthday awhile back.
Once I made it out the old back doors that no one ever bothered using, I removed the hood that hid most of my face and looked around, taking in the landscape. The trees' leaves were already painted with a faint orange color, even though it was only the ending of August. The town I lived in seemed pretty influenced by the colder seasons rather than the warmer, so it stayed chillier than average through most of the year. The grass was perfectly cut and the benches were repainted a pure white color. The trees that extended back for acres all matched in deep, rich colors as they faded away. I took in a deep breath, letting in all of the fresh, earthy smells that the wind carried past me. It made me wonder why people never came back here to relax a bit, like I did.
But I wasn't complaining, because of it's lack of activity, it was always quiet and perfectly clean and calm. How lucky for me. I let the cool breeze flow through my hair, wanting to be swept away in it like the few fallen leaves that had already begun to scatter.
I opened my eyes as I fought the urge to grab my camera and start taking shots of the scenery, which was the normal, first response I had once I made it back here. This had been my school grounds sanctuary since freshman year.
But today, my impulses would have to wait. Realizing I was going to be late, I hurried through the school, out the side doors to the rusty bike wrack, and jumped onto my bike as I threw my hood over my head once again. I gripped the rubber handles and set the soles of my worn out sneakers onto their usual places on the pedals. I began to pedal down the street, swerving down a side road that usually served as a short-cut to my grandmother's house.
Yet, the more I pedaled down said street, the more I began to feel as though something wasn't right. Cars, horns beeping and impatient, were backed up in a long line of traffic. I slowed down once I came face to face with the four-pile car wreck that had been the cause of this commotion. The entire street was crowded with ambulances and police cars trying to direct angry drivers away from the issue.
'Crap,' I cursed under my breath and I swerved my ride, understanding I had no chance getting around this chaotic display due to the untrustworthy drivers trying to pass it up, and the fact that I was riding my flimsy bike on the side of the road because of the lack of sidewalk to the old street.
I huffed in frustration, knowing that I had to take the long way home when I was in a hurry. I peddled quickly down the new street I had just turned on, peaking at my watch every five seconds as I tried to quicken my leg work to make sure I would be on time while also making sure not to crash in the process. The pile up I had just witnessed was enough to scare me straight out of my wits, so clearly "careful" was my middle name at the moment. I looked at the slightly rusted street sign that read Lakewood Drive in big white letters, the sight sending a shiver down my back.
Immediatly confused by my quick reaction, I tried shrugging it off entirely and continued to pedaled faster, the only thing on my mind was getting home in time. I checked my watch for one last moment before kicking it into high gear: 2:59 PM.
I almost screamed in anger. I was going to be late! How was I going to explain my absence to my grandmother, when she needs my help the most on this day of the month! With those thoughts, I tried to peddle even faster, nervousness bubbling up inside me at the thought of being late and messing with my grandmother's tight appointment schedule.
As I sped down the street I noticed the many cars of various colors and music blasting in their speakers, all commonly filled with squealing teenage girls, beeping and shouting at each other as they drove.
'What's the commotion?' I thought as I my legs continued pumping, trying to increase my speed.
I shook my head, not believing that even with the route change I was still facing obstacles, and knowing that I needed to clear my thoughts and focus on getting home to my grandmother. It was the only thing that mattered to me.
My thoughts and view were clear as the day, thanks to my thick glasses and perfect prescription after my visit to the optometrist just a few weeks before, until a blinding flash turned my vision a stark white, blurring the world around me into simple colors and shapes I couldn't fathom in the slightest. My sweaty hands slipped from the breaks and my spine stiffened.
And, ironically, in a flash, my entire body had found its way in front of my handle bars, and flying into a large oak tree by the side of the road, my bag flopping around at my side from the force as it slapped hard against my hip.
Without a single scream on my part, the suddenness scaring me silent, my head finally smacked into the hard bark of the tree as the climax of the event ceased, sending a piercing shriek of pain through my skull. I slumped down into the grass, silently cursing myself once again for not wearing - or even owning, for that matter - a helmet, as I slowly lost consciousness to the sounds of shouting people and dancing stars.
***
"I think she's waking up."
My eyelids were heavy. That was the first thing I noticed. The heaviness, and not just of the eyelids that still covered my dark eyes, but of the heaviness that chained my entire body to the comfortable object I laid on. I tried to lift the lids covering the eyes that I've been told on so many occasions that seemed to hold no life, not yet ready to adjust to the blinding light that surrounded me. I bit back a gasp of pain, and began to blink away the blurriness of the world around me.
"Yup. She's definitely awake now."
My eyes immediatly shot open as Cooper Appollo's face stared down at me, his light brown eyes full of interest and wonder. He was only inches away from my own face, but I could barely see him. My head flew up, almost smacking into Cooper's. Luckily he had enough sense to move back, and yet again I had to choke back a whimper as my head pounded in protest at my movement. My hands began to search on their own for my lost glasses, too frightened to speak.
"Oh, are you looking for these?" A blonde blob - I mean, Jonas, as far as I could tell - said to my right. I grabbed what was in his hands, knowing by the feeling of the smooth rims that they were in fact my glasses, and stuck them on my face. Seeing that they had no cracks or scratches sent a wave of relief through me. Thank goodness for my hard head.
I blinked until my eyes adjusted. Once they did after a few moments, I could finally register the only thing I've been wanting to see for the past two minutes. My surroundings. Except, once my wish was finally granted, I could only wish again that I could take back my first, ignorant plea.
I was now staring into the eyes of Elliot Beau, Cooper Appollo, Parker Foster, and Jonas Keenan. Each of them had their own chair pulled up, all graciously sitting in them as they stared at me as I lay on the cloud-like couch located in the middle of a bright sun room, windows on every wall. As much as I had to control the urge to squeal at the beautiful decor of the large place I sat smack-dab in the middle of, I was still suffocating in my own anxiety.
'What kind of Dateline TV interrogation scene is this..?' I thought, pondering just what the hell could've happened to be surrounded by these four, 'My life really IS a sitcom.'
Then everything from before flooded back to me like a dam breaking open from the pressure of holding too much back, followed by an ache in my right temple. I winced.
"Oh, yes, you've seemed to have earned quite the nice bump there," Parker said as he leaned over to give me an ice pack, fixing his glasses in a sophisticated manner that no high schooler should have, "Here, put this on it so the swelling will go down."
I did as I was told, realizing how ironic it was that he was the only person who knew what to do in the situation, and how defeated I felt as I sat on the pristine white velvet couch I knew I had no right to even touch.
"This is also yours!" Cooper chirped handing me my dark blue shoulder bag, the one I had made for myself over the summer out of boredom. I grabbed it quickly and peered inside it, praying my camera was unharmed.
A squeak of utter terror was the only thing I could manage when I saw my beloved camera completely shattered at the bottom of the bag, pieces and bits of various sizes scattered about.
"Wha-What did you do...?" I murmured, feeling my eyes getting watery. I tried to push them back and keep my voice even, there was no way in hell that I was going to allow such influential people see me at my worst, "This was a present my father gave to me..."
'My camera! My poor camera! My most treasured thing in this horrible world!' I thought, trying to swallow down the huge lump that was forming in my throat. 'Why am I even here? Why am I with these four idiots! What even made me crash?'
"So, you finally spoke." Elliot said from the far corner, his arms crossed and an irritated look on his face. His features only darkened as our eyes met.
"What?" I questioned in a more softer tone than before. I didn't even have the energy to yell.
"He's just a bit bent out of shape about earlier. More importantly, I can bet you're quite curious as to where you are and what's going on." Parker stated, once again almost reading my mind. He paced back and forth as he explained, "From what I observed earlier, the flash of our camera seemed to have startled you, who wasn't paying attention to her surroundings, ultimately making you lose control of your bike and causing you to fly over its handle bars." - Bullseye - "Also, we've brought you here because we felt a bit remorseful for our actions, and, well..." He trailed off, his usual sly look faltering into a slightly unsure one.
"Yeah! Look at this!" Cooper came up to me with a camera that had no business being in the hands of someone of our age. A camera way nicer than the one I owned, or had previously owned now that I remembered its cruel fate.
After inspecting the item a bit closer, I finally noticed what they were trying to show me. A picture. One single, clear as day picture. A picture of me zooming on my bike, black waves of hair in knotted bundles around me, my clothes flapping in the wind, my eyes alert. The last moment I could recall before blacking out.
"Looks like we found who was 'shot' this semester." He sang happily as the other boys stood around me silently, a mix of emotions obviously making their way to each and every on of them.
My face paled, my jaw went slack, "No..." I whispered, "No way..."
"Well, according to tradition..." Jonas trailed off, not meeting my eyes.
"And we can't break that, now can we?" Parker finished Jonas's sentence with a sly smile, obviously finding this predicament simply entertaining, "Not if we want an angry hoard of girls on our hands." I could have punched him for that smug look he was showing off as he continued.
"Either way people are going to be pissed," Jonas answered him, looking at him because he dared not to look at me. I almost fell off my seat once I saw him mirror the mischievous grin his friend wore, "Might as well make it interesting."
"Cool, now we can be friends!" Cooper yelled as he gave me a quick squeeze around the neck.
I stayed frozen in place, trying to process the even that unfolded so quickly before my eyes. Then I did the thing I did best, or at least second best to photography.
I ran.
Ran the hell away.