“First meeting of The Felicity Foxes people! I hope you’re pumped! There’s gonna be a hella lot coffee, an even more amount of work and lots and lots of fun!” The senior girl with ‘Jen’ written on her nametag jumps up and down way too happily. She has glasses perched lower on her nose than Liv’s are and crisp black hair that doesn’t include a strand out of place. I wonder how much gel was required for that kind of hair.
Noah leans so close to me that I can feel his breath against my neck. “It doesn’t feel right being in her regal-ness. I think we should be kneeling or something because standing here awkwardly doesn’t feel right, does it?” I’m about to shake my head when Jen interrupts me and I swear, for a moment I thought it was my Aunt Georgie, who is a real estate agent. The fact that they both wear the same navy pencil skirt is already enough similarity. “Mr. Wilde and friend! Please be quiet if you wish to pursue as our photographers! Everyone is replaceable.”
The fact that she knew Noah but not me is enough to make me want to throw her tidy ass into the wall. Noah has barely been here for two days and people know him better than they know me, who has been going to this school for the last 2 years! What the hell? I guess it’s one of the perks of being hot. You know, besides getting trampled with humans from the same and opposite gender. Let’s just admit that not only the girls are in love with Noah Wilde.
Jen explains that everything on the weekly paper needs to be submitted every Friday so that she can edit and lay out the paper that will be printed on Monday. That sounds like an awful amount of work, especially juggling Hamburgers On Wheels, but my apparently extraordinary partner in crime will help. She babbles on and on about how her reputation is on the line with this paper and if she fails she will not get valedictorian during her graduation. All I want to do, besides slapping her, is tell her that it’s not that big of a deal. In 30 years, no one is going to remember who their high school valedictorian was. When she finally dismisses us, I’m off to the This Is Us Magazine Office. Yes, you guessed it. I got the last spot!
A few days ago, I got sent an email about the final spot in the Top 10 Young Photographers. They said that they were honored to have such a young and talented photographer on the team. They told me to head over to the office Monday as soon as I can for a surprise. I’m hoping it’s one of those This Is Us shirts with the glittery pink stripe, but even it’s not I will still be very grateful to be the only person on the list that hasn’t graduated high school yet. And I still have another year too!
An employee greets me as I walk past them in the air conditioned office. I push the elevator button and memories flash through me. Maybe I should take the stairs. I’m way too energized for the surprise to walk up to the fifth floor. The elevator comes and I get into it with a red face and a beating heart. I wonder if Noah and I will ever ride this elevator together again. The odds are against it because Noah didn’t get the spot. I made a real effort not to bring it up so that he wouldn’t be disappointed. He needs a while before he can be happy for me.
I stare at my reflection on the metal elevator walls, so that my claustrophobia won’t come out. My blonde hair is coming out of the side braid I put it in, but it looks good. Like, I got up like this; flawless. My graphic tee says ‘Do you have a bae or naw?’ which is the last present I got from my cousin before he died from brain cancer. People think that I wear the same pair of leggings every day, but they have to know I am not disgusting. I have multiple pairs because black leggings are the only pants you will ever need. They match with literally everything. Screw the people who think leggings shouldn’t be worn unless your butt is covered. I get that you don’t want your underwear lines to be showing, but everyone wears underwear, so why not?
The office of Mrs. Holder that Noah and I ran to just a few days ago lies there as tempting as ever. Behind those doors is my surprise! I put my hand on the knob and breathe in before twisting it. This is like the next big step to a new chapter of my life.
YOU ARE READING
Pretty Boy In Love
Teen Fiction[RATED PG-13 NOT RATED R] "You would expect someone who looks like me to be posing in front of the camera, but I've decided against it for now. I'm still quite fully interested in the works behind the lens." - Juliet Merrill is a 16 year old aspirin...
