**Officially published as Clique Bait with HarperTeen!**
Payment is usually a part of a basic transaction. You give and then you take. But, at Arlington Preparatory, people take at their leisure. They take their entertainment in the form of humiliat...
I'm not your MOM, she doesn't give a shit about your grades, remember?
And you bitch. I literally went months thinking someone actually loved me. Pretty stupid, right? If you're sharing memories, then I am too.
It was the last time I remember things being normal for us. The night before our first party, when we decided to go dress shopping and your dad gave you his credit card so we decided to just buy anything we wanted instead. That was the first time we tried on lingerie, at the ripe young age of sixteen.
It was hot though, right?
Love ya,
Monica
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If you'd told me that I'd be spending my Monday morning free period balancing on the toilet seat of an out-of-order cubicle, beforeI'd had my morning coffee, I would have snorted in laughter. Like, surely I wouldn't be thatdesperate.
Oh, but I was.
What made it even worse was that the cubicle wasn't even out of order, I'd just printed out my own out-of-order sign so I wouldn't be busted spying.
The biggest dilemma facing me with my list, was that I didn't share many classes with any of level one. They weren't exactly the kind of people who took calculus and physics, and if they were they didn't pay me any mind. Instead, they topped business, politics, and language classes, destined to rule fashion empires and increase their fortune on the stock exchange.
But, conveniently, I'd heard Sophie Rutherford's voice behind me in the hallway by her locker when I walked by after class. Her voice seemed to be on another frequency, which made it easy to overhear. Of course, I was all ears. She'd asked Lola to meet her in the girl's toilets within fifteen minutes. She needed to tell her something.
In that time, I was able to print off a scrappy sign and steal some thumb-tacks from a poster board. Now all I had to do was wait.
And God, they were taking forever.
My knees were growing painful with the way they were bent, and let me tell you, lifting your legs up and balancing on a toilet cubicle was not something you wanted to do in Miu Miu boots. If they didn't hurry, I'd have to give up. And if they turned up to talk about lipsticks for twenty minutes I was going to kill someone.
This is why I needed coffee.
I was contemplating whether my legs would go numb after a while, or whether I'd be better off amputating them all together, when the door swung open. The tap-tap on the tiles told me the pair that entered was likely them, and the voice that spoke confirmed it.
