I'm Not That Girl

Chapter One

Chapter One

All my life I’ve been different. There’s something about me that’s just, well, different from the people around me. I’ve been attending private school since before I can remember, and I don’t think that I’ve ever really fit in. 

      At school, I’m “that smart kid”. Nothing more, nothing less. The nerd. The girl who can get an A+ in her sleep. Little Miss Perfect. But, in reality, I’m way more than “the girl who’s test you just cheated off of”.

      Most people would expect the girls from private schools to be snobbish, self-centered, bitches; unfortunately, per my experiences, those assumptions are completely and utterly accurate. All I can say about the people that I’ve interacted with over the years is that appearances are everything to them. Girls care about how they look, act, and are fake, solely because of the society around them. Their own thoughts don’t matter, as long as they appear to be what others consider “perfect”, then they’re satisfied. I’m proud to say, I, Elle Paterson, am not one of those girls.

      “Elle!” someone called from behind me.

      “Yeah?” I turned my body around to face the one and only Phillip Anderson trying to catch up to me. 

      “Umm… when was the SAT thing due?” the football player asked.

      “Yesterday,” I informed him, my eyes glancing briefly into his light hazel ones, before I continued to walk down the hall to my next class.

      “Shit! My mom’s going to be pissed!” he groaned, running a hand through his dirty blonde curls that were messily tossled about his head as usual. 

      “You can always sign up for a later one,” I reminded him.

      “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he sighed nervously, as school wasn’t really his calling.

      “Elle’s always right,” a voice I instantly knew belonged to John Kent said, jabbing me in the back with his finger. 

      “That I am, Mr. Kent,” I said, hitting the blonde boy who had relocated to my side on the shoulder for startling me.

      “Ow!” he complained, playfully scowling at me with the use of his frozen, blue eyes.

      “Serves you right, scaring me and all,” I teased.

      “Right. What class do we have?” John asked, as the three of roamed through the familiar halls.

      “Science,” I answered automatically. He groaned. Due to John being fairly intelligent, the two of us have close to the same exact schedules, with variations in electives and fake classes like Art and PE.

      “Have fun,” Phillip laughed, shaking his head.

      “Phillip!” an annoying voice sounded behind us, causing me to cringe.

      “Now it’s your turn to have fun,” I whispered in his ear.

      “Phillip Anderson!” the voice reiterated with more force.

      “Gina!” Phillip said, turning around to face the Barbie clone that I held quite a bit of resentment towards.

      Gina Clark. I suppose you could her resident queen bee and mean girl at our school. Bleach blonde hair, a spray tan, globs of makeup, and an attitude- that's Gina. Oh, and she tends to be a bit of a bitch. Her latest ploy has been to get Phillip to go out with her. I don’t know why she would pray on someone as sweet and innocent as Phillip, but for some reason he’s the guy she has set her cold, ruthless heart on.

      “Where are you going?” she asked flirtatiously, twirling a strand of her straight hair. 

      “Class,” he replied bluntly.

      “Oh, well, I just was wondering if maybe you would want to come over my house after school today?” she inquired, batting her eyelashes in an obnoxious manner.

      “Sorry, I can’t; Elle promised to tutor me in math this afternoon,” he lied.

      “I’m sure you two can find a different time. Isn’t that right, Elle?” she glared at me.

      “Nope,” I siad, continuing the lie, “Phillip really needs the study time.”

      “Whatever. Well, before you’re off to your next class, I just wanted to say that you look totally hot today!” she said, leaving us with that ravashingly deep thought.

      “Thanks,” Phillip said to me, “I owe you one!”

      “Nah, it’s nothing,” I shrugged nonchalantly.

      “You know what is something?” John asked.

      “What?” I said.

      “Being late for class!” he exclaimed, taking my hand and dragging me through the hall to the dismal science lab.

      I hate science. Period. All my other classes, except for math, I don’t mind a bit, but I find science confusing, and extremely boring. Somehow, I was placed in AP biology or chemistry or whatever the hell this class was, so I was stuck suffering.

      “Rosie!” John animatedly said to a blonde girl, as we entered the room. I rolled my eyes, taking in her spray tan-raccon eye look. It wasn’t exactly what I personally find attractive.

      Rosie Walden is Gina’s best friend. They do everything together. The word “Hate” comes to mind when I think of Rosie. John on the other hand, surprisingly likes her.

      “What?” she snapped, stopping her conversation with some desparate wannabe.

      “Did you do the homework last night?” he said, trying to come up with an excuse to talk to her. I just shook my head. John, John, John.

      “Yeah. So, Kristy, you were saying?” she asked, returning to her original conversation.

      My eyes panned about the room, and until I finally spotted a girl looking aimlessly around for a seat. “Kara!” I called out to my best friend.

      Kara Thompson. We met each other in kindergarten. She took my pink crayon. I took her purple one. We’ve been best friends ever since. Kara is into three things: shopping, texting, and boys. She tends to be a bit on the materialistic side, but I love her nonetheless.

      “Oh, hey!” she said, taking the seat beside me.

      “Kara,” John greeted quietly.

      “John,” she said, nodding in acknowledgement of his existence. She twisted her frame to face the girl that John had been rejected by just moments before. “Hi Rosie!”

      “Oh, hi Kara!” Rosie said, a sly tone creeping into her voice. Sometimes it sickens me how miguided Kara can truly be.

      “Did you see what Henry Groff was wearing today?” Kara gushed, bringing up the name of her longtime crush who just so happened to be the world’s biggest jerk alive.

      “Yeah, he looked really hot! I heard he’s going to the party on Friday with Jillian,” she said, smiling angelically. 

      “He’s going with Jillian?” Kara said in disbelief.

      “Yeah, I guess it turns out she really liked him.”

      “That slut!” Kara said too loudly.

      “It’s a shame, isn’t it?” Rosie said, turning back to the girl she was talking to.

      “I should be the one going out with Henry! Not that slut, Jillian!” Kara complained. An irritable Kara. What a fun day this was turning out to be!