Under the Influence

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Hey guys! This is my first story here on Wattpad. Tell me if I should keep it or scrap it.Thanks. I finally have a trailer for this story so be sure to check it out!

Enjoy!

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Nadia :)

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~Prologue~

Isabelle

I popped the strawberry piece of gum in my mouth causing a loud sound across the quiet classroom. The teacher, Ms Latimer, sent a disapproving look my way before turning back to her computer. I leaned back on my chair causing a creaking noise. I was bored and it hadn't even been ten minutes since I arrived to this lesson. I looked down at my sheet of unanswered math equations and sighed loudly causing people to look my way. Okay, so I understand that we're taking a test but I just don't get it! I started kicking the chair in front of me; I formed a beat in my head. Boom..boom..boom..boom..boom...

The boy in front of me turned around, his thick rimmed glasses sliding down his nose. I felt the need to take them off and break them. He looked at me and said, "Do you have a problem?"

"Why on earth would you think that?" I replied sarcastically.

"Because you keep kicking my freaking chair!" he replied already starting to get angry.

"Don't raise your voice at me or I’ll punch you so hard your laughter box will break," I said in a low voice, trying to scare him.

He gulped and then turned around quickly to not anger me any further. It worked!

Ahhh, I loved the power I had over people!

I started to lean back on my chair and get comfortable when I heard...

"Isabelle Hoarde, please report to the principal's office immediately!" the loud tannoy above me screeched. Students were whispering by now but I didn't care. I'm used to being talked about. 

My friend, Jamie, sent a look my way as if saying "What have you done now?"

I just shrugged in response. I think she's learnt to just not bother anymore, I never answered anyway and if I did it was limited. I liked her though; she's the type that is silent but observes everything. I mean it...everything. That's why she's perfect for my "posse."

Without looking back at my curious classmates, I grabbed my bag, stuffed everything in and made my way to the principal's office.

 Once there, the receptionist Ms Lemon (as I liked to call her) was talking on the phone. If you saw her scowl you would know the reason as to why I called her this. As soon as she saw me she waved her hand to show I could go through. I rolled my eyes at her, something I’ve grown used to over the years. She turned back to her conversation as I entered the boring grey room. 

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