I Do

Chapter 7

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO NIALLER! <3

Okay, that was the most important announcement. :) One more thing: I'm entered in a Best Harry Fanfic category. Please,please,please vote and make all my wishes come true! <3 http://www.wattpad.com/7165217-one-direction-awards-nominees-september-2012-best there's the link! VOTE! :) That's all, happy reading :)

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Chapter 7 *September 4, 2006* 

-Arabella- 

   I twirl a strand of golden hair up and down my finger, biting my lip. My eyes are wide and lost as I concentrate on my homework, my typical expression to attract boys during class. When they notice how confused I appear, boys constantly pass notes offering to help me out or plan a study date. For the most part, I reject them. It's pointless, really, since all of them are quite nerdy, just an exercise to make sure they're all still obsessed with me. 

   It isn't working. 

   Instead of sadly gazing at me like lovesick puppies, nearly the entire class has gathered around the new girl, Hallie. She's all bold and giggly, chattering nonstop in her irritating American accent, and I'm getting pissed. 

   I understand she's from across the pond, but does that make her striking enough to steal all the attention from me? No. From the glimpse I got of her, I suppose she's a lovely girl, but I'm far beyond that. There’s got to be something else, something special, that’s drawing everyone in.

   I assume it'll die down, though, and there's no way I'm going to take part in sucking up to the new girl. She'll be forgotten in a week. 

....... 

   I'm smoldering at my lunchroom table, flipping my shiny blonde locks over my bare shoulder. Under normal circumstances, I'm surrounded by boys, the luckiest of whom can find a seat while the others jostle for a position where they can at least speak to me. 

   Today, as it has been the last two weeks, only a few boys linger around me. They chew quietly with occasional nervous glances at my furious expression. The rest are near Hallie, who still seems in awe of her friendly reception. She's with a few plain girls from our class, talking animatedly, and I'm starting to wonder if my reputation is about to collapse. Will I be forgotten, the ugly girl shoved into a corner without a partner for every history essay?

   Impossible. I'm Arabella Edwards. I don't self-pity and I don't crumble. It's time to take charge. 

   Ignoring the bemused boys lounging beside me, I rise from my seat and stalk towards Hallie. The instant I approach, everyone glances up at me, awestruck. Even the new girl looks admiring and slightly dismayed as she observes my gorgeousness. Perfect. 

   "Hey, is it Hallie?" I greet her pleasantly with a Splenda-sweet smile. She nods, looking unsure. "You should come sit with me!" I blink, tilting my head encouragingly and planting a hand on my hip.

   "Um..." Rosalind Lutz, a friendly, clumsy girl, nudges Hallie in the elbow, urging her to accept the invitation. "Sure," she agrees brightly, scooping up her tray of fish sticks. She smiles apologetically at the girls around her, most of whom don't seem to be assigning much blame. After all, anyone who gets the opportunity will gladly sit with me.

   And mission accomplished. With Little Miss America relocated, the boys will be swooning over me again in no time. 

-Hallie- 

   Walking into my math, I mean, arithmetic class, my book bag, I mean, satchel, slips off my shoulder. Books and papers spill onto the floor in the doorway and I duck down, my cheeks flaming. I'm already the new girl, now the klutz? 

   As I collect my supplies, a stunning blonde girl glances down at me, sniffs haughtily, and struts past me to her desk. How friendly. Hallie, I have a feeling you're not in Virginia anymore. 

   The tidy, balding teacher seems to recognize my dilemma, so he crouches down beside me and begins plucking pencils off the floor. When all my items are safely stowed away, he stands quickly and clears his throat. I try to inch away from him towards my seat, but before I can do so, he introduces me to the entire class.

   "Everyone, this is Hallie! She recently moved here from America! I had a lesson planned, but I'd like you to get to know her. I trust you'll all make her feel welcome." He raises his brows above his spectacles authoritatively and crosses his arms.

   At my old school, a speech like that would more or less eliminate your chances of being welcomed. 

   However, within seconds, a wide crowd has formed around me, greeting me warmly. I shift away, desperately wanting to escape to my desk and hide underneath it. Instead, I plaster a hearty smile on my face and begin talking with several of them, resisting the urge to burst into giggles at their adorable British accents.

   As I listen to a short girl question me about American fashion, I notice the icy, pretty girl from earlier watching me. She winds her hair up and down her finger, rolling her huge blue eyes. Something in her expression is blocking, screaming 'I don't like you'. 

   Without a doubt, she's intimidating. And, watching her stare grow even colder, I decide to go ahead and cross her off my potential friend list. 

......

   My mind reels as I trail behind Arabella, clutching my lunch tray. From what I've been told, Arabella is very snobby and very well-liked, by boys, that is. Of course, though my impression was that the girls couldn't stand her, it was obvious that every girl secretly desires to be just like her. 

   Earlier, at our lunch table, I'd asked who she was. "She has no friends, except boys," Esther had muttered, bristling at the mere mention of her.

   "Oh, don't be rude. She'd have loads of friends if she wanted any," Rosalind, who seemed to have slightly more fair judgment, reprimanded breezily as she swatted Esther's arm. 

   It was then that Arabella popped up at my table, sparkling smile and all, and offered a space at her table. 

   Now, she sits delicately in her seat and crosses her ankles, appearing almost regal. I try to imitate her but end up plopping down as usual. 

   "So, Hallie." Arabella's voice is high, but not in a squeaky way, more musical. "I think you and I ought to be friends," she declares nonchalantly. 

   A smile cracks wide on my face as I mentally scrawl her name back onto my potential friends list. "Really?" 

   "Of course!" She leans in discreetly. "See, I don't get along with most of these girls. They aren't... like me. But you, you fit in with me."

   "I do?" 

   Arabella bursts into tinkling laughter. "Of course! You're pretty, intelligent, sweet, funny,” she lists, ticking each word off on her finger. “Like me!" 

   Surprised, (Arabella doesn't seem the type to dish out compliments) I smile. "Um, thanks."

   She looks faintly pleased as she chirps, "American accents are so funny! Why don't we meet up after school?" 

   I'm speechless. Only a week here and the most popular girl I've met is requesting my friendship. Back in America, my few conversations with the 'pretty girls' revolved around my homework answers. Despite my initial doubts, on my list I draw a big fat circle around the name Arabella Edwards. 

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So, this chapter wasn't as interesting as the last few, but I wanted to give some back-up. :)

Next chapter will be intense. Make sure you vote and comment, though! The more feedback I get, the sooner I'll update

Lots of love to you all xx