Restart - An Original Novella

Chapter II {Melophobia} Part 1

It's lunch time, and as I go to get my lunch bag from my backpack, I see two familiar faces — Vanessa Rowan and Chloë Adams, the two meanest and prettiest girls in school. Eating at my bottom lip, I duck into another hallway to avoid them. I don't want them to make my day worse than it already is. My birthday started out great, but it's gone way downhill from there. If I get tangled up in a fight with them, the results will be cataclysmic.

Pretty isn't the right word to describe them, to be honest, or maybe it isn't strong enough. They're very beautiful, and they know it. It isn't hard to see. Chloë, who is a sophomore like me, has long, golden hair that falls down her back in perfect waves, and her bangs are perfectly trimmed above her perfectly shaped eyebrows. Her complexion is a perfect tan, without any blemishes or imperfections of any kind. Her cheekbones are soft are and at the perfect placement on her face. Her curves are obvious, and she's perfectly slim, always wears makeup and bright pink lipstick on her full lips. She looks like a model, a completely stereotypical popular girl like there always are in books.

Like I said, what kind of cliché life do I have? It's unbelievable!

What really bugs me about her, though, are her huge brown eyes. It's like they have some magical power, so she can skillfully use them to persuade, usually the answers to exams or something. But she can also use them for greater evil, the most innocent of which being a disposable boyfriend here and there, or convincing a teacher to let her late assignment slide. She's also arrogant. Really arrogant, and it gets on my usually unshakable nerves.

Let me give you an example.

Since every pathetic boy in the school is positively smitten with these angels from heaven, the two girls have complete control of this school. She'd be literally the perfect cliché popular girl if she had blue eyes and was captain of the cheerleading team. Alas, she's too lazy to exert any of her valuable energy doing something as pointless as sports, even a sport that would thrust her into a boiling pot of prey - I mean, boys.

One kid was so bold to invite them to a party at his house, probably to woo one of them to become his girlfriend. I honestly think they would have went, since he was on the football team or something, but you know what turned them (well, Chloë) off? He forgot the diaeresis in her name! You know, the two dots over the E? And she got so mad, she was screaming in his face at lunch, humiliating him in front of everyone, it was insane!

A tidbit?

"Omigod how did you forget the two dots over the, like, E in Chloë?! Is it not, like, CLEAR to you that there are dots?! If you're going to invite me to your party, AT LEAST, like, SPELL MY NAME RIGHT! Omigod, you're like a moron, omigod, and you're actually, like, cute, and I would've, like, SO WENT, but NOW, HOW THE HECK CAN I, when you've, like, dis-ris-pek-ted me like this?! You know what I need right now? I need a watermelon strawberry lemonade with a kiwi fruit splash right now, those things are, like, so calming, and they're kinda pink too, and pink is my favorite color. And you know what color YOU sent MY invitation in? PURPLE YOU MORON! And you gave VANESSA the pink one instead! This table — raise your hands if you knew pink was my favorite color? I thought so."

So you can probably understand she's a nutjob.

And then there's Vanessa, a junior. Her hair is raven black, long, and permed in tight curls. Her eyes are the darkest of dark brown, giving you the feeling she knows all your secrets. Everything is dark and sharp about her, to be honest — skin, hair, eyes, cheekbones, jaw, personality. Even her mouth arches harshly to complement her full bottom lip.

What comes out of that perfect mouth, though, stabs like a sword. As soon as she utters a word, you know exactly what kind of person she is. Her words are sparse (and sharp too), but they hit you where it hurts. Like a snake rearing its head to bite, with absolutely no mercy. When she walks into a room, she immediately attracts attention because she's so stunning, but seems to have a cloud of depression following her wherever she goes. She looks mean, in general. She doesn't care about me, but Chloë is the problem. Especially since the latter is jealous that I've skipped a grade and she hasn't.