Mister Popular's Little Sister

three: who said anything about a soccer game?

three: who said anything about a soccer game?

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀After grabbing my lunch from my locker, I make my way through the many hallways of Ridgeway and enter into the crowded cafeteria. One can seriously get lost in this school; I would know because I pretty much have. Anyways, students fill every table situated in the large room that is in desperate need of cleaning.

Though this is only my first day at this school, you can pick out the cliché groups: the jocks, the popular's, the studious (I'm not going to call them nerds because that can be offensive), and the foreign exchange students. There are other students gathered here and there that don't look like they're apart of a group, but I don't know what they would be classified as. Normals? Averages? Okay, no need for me to classify or stereotype them.

Looking around, I try to spot the new but familiar red head that had greeted me this morning. That very said red head starts to wave at me from a table in the corner of the cafeteria. To reach Ryland's table I have to pass by the popular's table where my brother currently sits with some people I recognize from my first night in California. I am so dreading walking past them because I just know they're going to make comments.

Adjusting my backpack on my shoulders, I build up enough courage to make the dreaded walk to the table. When I near the popular's table, a few of the girls and boys cough out loser, nerd, dork, and any name that you can think of that tears someone down.

Conner and I make eye contact and I am hopeful that he will stand up for me, but to my dismay he doesn't say anything. In fact, he looks away and engages in conversation with the girl next to him. Rude.

"What was all that about?" Ryland questions me as I take a seat across from her facing the popular's table.

"I'm being stereotyped and picked on by the popular's as one would call them," I reply staring at my brother who is currently staring down his sandwich. I wonder who's winning? Ha ha, I'm funny. Just then he looks up and we make eye contact once again, but this time he looks down shamefully. "And the fact that my brother doesn't say anything to stop them makes it even worse," I grumble unzipping my lunch box.

"Ignore them. They think they're all high and mighty, but they really aren't. I can't wait till they go to college and realize that their popularity in high school wasn't all that. Reality is going to hit them like a truck," she encourages before taking a bit of her Mac n' cheese. My favorite. "Who's your brother?" She adds taking another bite of her deliciousness.

"You're right. Their popularity isn't going to matter in the real world. And Conner Parker is my brother," I reply pulling out my ham sandwich. Ryland's mouth falls open causing me to knit my eyebrows in confusion. "Shut your mouth before you swallow a fly," I tease her causing her to snap back into reality.

"You're related to the Conner Parker?" Her eyes are so wide they look like they're going to pop out any minute. It's kind of freaking me out a bit.

"Uh, yeah?" I question taking a bite of my sandwich.

"Your brother is like the coolest and nicest person ever! And he's so good at soccer. Everybody wants to be his friend or girlfriend. Not to mention that he's absolutely gorgeous." Her hands fly to her mouth. Obviously she did not mean for that to slip out.

I snort at the nice part. Well, he may be nice to everyone else, but he sure hasn't been nice to me lately. "Are you insinuating that you have a crush on my brother?" I raise an eyebrow taking a sip of my chocolate milk. You may be thinking: chocolate milk and a ham sandwich? Hey, chocolate milk goes good with everything. But if you weren't thinking that, you are now.