The Former Mean Girl

Mean Girls and Jerkwads

Chapter 1 

"Lea, get your ass into gear."

I shove the last bit of my bagel into my mouth and grab my bag. Mom's waiting at the door, waiting to drive me to my first day of school. It's coincidentally her first day of work, and she's wearing her powerful plum lipstick. She smiles at me and I smile back. I cant help but feel proud of her. I haven't had to make her a dirty martini since we left New York. 

The drive to school is quiet, both of us consumed by first day nerves. I take the chance to look at my new home with all its palm trees and sun. I've done this a lot the past month. It still hasn't really sunk in that I'm not going home - well, it's not home anymore. It's just the place that my father lives.

Mom and I bought a three bed house here the first week we arrived. It looks out at the sea, which I loooove - I always open my window to fall asleep to the sound of waves. And Mom always shouts at me that I'm inviting burglars to take whatever the hell they like. 

But other than that argument, I've never been closer to Mom. In fact, I've never seen her happier. It's nice here. Different. We spent the last month together, adjusting to our new reality. It's been our little bubble of safety, our bubble of healing. Of course, school and work had to come and ruin it.

We pull up to a large building with white walls, and I stare at the 'Everville High' sign. I can feel my stomach doing somersaults. It's senior year and I'm starting a new school. What if they're different here? What if none of them like partying, or laugh at my jokes, or watch Deserted For Love?

"You'll be fine, Lee," Mom says, clearly looking at my worried face. 

I give her my most convincing smile. "I know. You'll be, too."

Mom looks like she's tearing up, which is a bad sign. If she cries, I'll cry, and I'm not going into school with mascara all down my cheeks.

"I'm really proud of you, Lea. This past month... I couldn't have got through it without you."

Oh, dammit. Stay back, tears! I blink excessively, biting back the tears, then say: "Love you."

"Love you, too. Now, go wreak havoc."

I get out the car and watch my Mom drive off, feeling nervous as she goes off into the distance. I hope works okay for her. More so, I hope there are no cheating douches who'll break her heart working there. 

I get my new schedule from the office, and someone shows me to my first period. Math. Great. I spend the lesson keeping to myself, not talking to anyone, probably getting all the questions wrong while I'm at it. By the time lunch comes around, I'm sick of having to introduce myself and give one interesting fact (I always say I can play the cello. I can't). 

I'm walking to my locker to put my bag away when someone walks up behind me and barges me out the way. I stumble to the side and, by some miracle, I don't fall flat on my face. I look up at the broad male who almost killed me and give his back a scowl. 

"Mind where you're going, jerkwad."

The boy turns to look at me, and my mouth drops open. I'm taken aback by the pure magnificence of his entire being. He has gray eyes and dark brown hair, complimented with an impossible jaw. He's wearing a thin chequered shirt over a black tee, and what looks like black board shorts. I have never seen a boy wear boardshorts to school before, but boy I don't mind.

"Jerkwad?" He says, with a hint of a smirk.

I close my mouth and pick up all remnants of dignity from the floor. "Erm. Yes. Jerkwad."