she was popular. he was new. he was her way out.
✧ second place in the Chaos Awards! ✧
Kendra Ross is popular. Everyone knows that, and she makes sure of it. She's your stereotypical popular girl; lip gloss, crushes, drama, heels, crop tops, and fa...
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The bus ride home was horrible. The guys who were more popular than me kept wiggling their eyebrows and saying stuff like "So, you and Kit, eh?" Because, apparently, word of Spanish class and that sub got around. So now I'm "hopelessly in love" with Kit. Their words, not mine.
When I hopped off the bus and walked to my house, Alex Martin screamed "We'll hook you two up!" Just as my mom opened the door. I rolled my eyes and resisted the urge to run back to the bus and whack him with my backpack.
"Hi sweetie." My mom smiles and hugs me. I could tell she wanted to ask about what Alex had said, but she somehow restrained it. As we walk into my house, her blonde hair catches the sun and it looks golden.
"Hey mom. How was your day?" My mom's a therapist, so asking how her day was is literally like asking how her patient's day was.
"Not bad. I made progress with Nathan. He 'sorted out his differences' with his chinchilla. How was yours?"
"Normal." I say, throwing my bag on the couch and opening the fridge.
I turn to look at her. The urge to ask me is plain on her face. I roll my eyes. "Mom, I'm not being ' hooked up' with anyone. They're just being jerks."
She looks somewhat relieved as she says "Oh, okay. I was curious. Are they being nice to you?" I sigh.
"Mom, I'm in high school. I'm sixteen, for God's sake. Not everyone's going to be nice." This was obviously not the answer she wanted. She purses her lips.
"Anyway, do we have anything today?"
"Well, Tessa has soccer practice, but otherwise, no. Why? Do you have somewhere to go?"
I laugh. "Yeah. On the couch. With my book and some Doritos." She ruffles my hair.
"That's my girl."
My mom is the kind of mom who supports antisocial activities more than social activities. She, like me, will choose reading over parties any day. And I admire her for that. Unfortunately, parties are a must if I'm popular.
I seriously need to figure out a way to be unpopular.
I hear the aggressive squeak of the school bus and then Tessa walks in the door.
"Hi." She says, dropping her brown bag on the floor. She walks over to the mirror and checks her reflection before flopping down on the couch.
My little sister is not just gorgeous, but also a fashion expert without trying to be, which is aggravating. Her hair is dirty blonde and long, and today it's up in two buns on the sides of her head. She's wearing mascara (mom let her, but not me when I was twelve...! Totally unfair!) Anyway, since she's wearing mascara, it brings out the icy blue of her eyes. She's wearing a dark green t-shirt tucked into black denim shorts, and she somehow makes it look fashionable. Teach me, please. I can't even wear a designer dress and look that fashionable.
