Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 112163 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 561(@200wpm)___ 449(@250wpm)___ 374(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112163 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 561(@200wpm)___ 449(@250wpm)___ 374(@300wpm)
I fielded a few looks from some of the other girls that passed by but no one approached. When the bell rang I almost clung to my brother like I did that time when I was five and Jimmy Clem pulled my ribbons from my hair.
I remember Jared had knocked his lights out back then. But this was high school and I was a big girl, and my brother was so excited about being here, I couldn’t spoil it for him.
“I’ll see you after class Jared.”
“Listen, sis, if anything happens you come find me okay.” I almost cried; he was being so sweet.
“Nothing’s going to happen bro don’t worry about me, see ya.” I walked down the hallway pretending to be reading the sheet of paper in my hand but what I was really doing was hiding my anxiety. I want my mommy.
***
By the time I reached my first class I was feeling the strain. Having always been part of the in crowd since middle school or even before then, it was a whole new experience being the new kid.
It wasn’t so much the prestige that abounded here among the young Hollywood heirs, that I can match, no problem; my closet was more than ample enough if I was so inclined.
But it was more the sense of not being one of them. My dad was not a big time movie star or studio mogul, though his money was just as green as the next guy’s. But I got the sense that here it was about more than wealth and hot cars, it was a totally different atmosphere than what I was accustomed to.
And then she walked in and I felt the shift in the air. I don’t know why, but one look at this chick and I felt like laughing. Not because she looked clownish or anything like that, but because she had attitude coming off her in waves, I know the signs.
Chapter 3
BELLE
High school is the worse place for a sixteen-year-old girl with growing pains; I mean think about it, you're cooped up with twenty or thirty of your so-called peers.
Everyone is judging and critiquing everyone else, everything you do comes under a microscope, and heaven forbid you're anything bigger than a size four, well then you're just not worth the air you breathe.
I'm a size ten and I have no interest in starving myself into a lesser size. Apparently that's considered teenage suicide to think like that, bleh.
My mom says I'm as beautiful as ever, and my dad says I'm his golden princess and father knows best. I have a full head of the wildest hair you've ever seen in your life.
It's red, not fire engine red; what does mom call it again? Oh yeah, auburn, with hints of chestnut and wine.
To top it off, this mess is all curls, like Shirley Temples circa nineteen sixties curly. My eyes are the brightest blue I've ever encountered, that didn't need the help of glasses to protect them, that's how I got my name.
Dad said I was his little bluebell so I'm Belle, that's right, in some countries my name means beautiful and don't you forget it.
My best friend Tammy is a curvy size twelve; she's your typical green- eyed blonde with the finest pin straight hair in the world.
If I was prone to envy I'd want her hair, but I'll deal with mine thank you very much, though it takes the stylist forever to straighten it whenever I'm in the mood.
Anyway, now you know a little bit about me on to the meat of the story. Well, as if my life isn't hell on earth as it is, what with the asstards that I have to deal with, like the Mandy Taylors of the world and her little henchmen, now they're bringing a hotshot football star here this semester.
The Eden High community has been in an uproar for the past few days since the news broke that Jared Claiborne was coming here.
Now in case you don't know, Jared is one of the reigning high school football wide receiver kings in the country.
His family was moving here apparently and he was going to be playing for our school. Like we didn’t have enough to deal with, with Jace Saunders and his ilk, but that’s another story.
Anyway, it’s coming down to D-day, and already the walking wombs have been planning their wedding and baby showers, idiots.
Of course he's going to end up in the clutches of one of the ass-less wonders whose biggest decision was whether to have romaine or mesclun.
Mom says I shouldn't judge them like they judge me. I'm not judging, I'm just stating a fact. If my life revolved around what I ate and what I looked like sixteen hours out of the day I'd shoot myself, gah.
Anyway, Mr. hotshot was due here today and Tammy is a screaming mess. Not because she has any designs on his eminence, no, but because she knows that the anorexic brigade will be using her as their platform.
In other words, in order to make their scabby carcasses look somewhat appealing they'll be picking on her in the presence of his majesty.
How does she know this? Because it's been done ad nauseam! Now usually I stay out of these things, my daddy says a princess does not partake in such lowly behaviors.
Why he teaches me martial arts in our home gym is a mystery to me then. He says it's to discipline the mind and the body. I say it's to open up a can of whup that ass; what he doesn't know can't hurt him.
So, armed with my new determination to defend my friend at all cost I head off to class. Dad had to drive me because I can’t drive for shit; it’s a hazard to the community if I get behind the wheel.
Of course the halls are abuzz with the latest, his hotness has arrived and his entourage awaits.
Lining the halls like the procession at a queenly visit. I head off to my first class not caring a fig one way or the other; he'll have no interest in me why should I show any in him?