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This is the first chapter of my book! Yay!

I folded my note into a little square before sliding it into the waiting palm of Melinda Block. She read it, passed it to Kristy Cullen, who slide it to Cara Josh, who throw it across the isle to Beatrice Wreath. It took nearly a minute to pass the message on to my three BFFs, (Cullen's just a messenger), but it was worth it. We all nodded. Why I couldn't just text my friends, I couldn't say. It would certainly be safer, (Cullen is a huge snoop, not tok mention a gossip) but something appeals to me about sending notes. And besides, I could say that hell had frozen over, and my three, loyal followers would still believe it. I was the leader. The alpha. Not them. And that made me proud.
"Miss Wreath, what is that in your hand that you're reading? I get the strangest feeling that it's not your notes." Beatrice flashed me a confident, pearly white grin. She then walked over to the paper shredder, and feeded my note in.
"What thing?" She asked, faking innocence. I almost applauded. But I could've given her a million dollars, and her smile could not had been bigger. And when the teacher gave her a detention badge to clip to her shirt, I was already making plans to burn it. The teacher might have a collage diploma, but I was an alpha. And in my world, that beat all.
"Amelia!" I awoke, Kyla Bloom shaking my shoulders. I sighed, knowing that my dream would never become reality. I was a nerd, a geek at best. The little bit of beauty I had ever prossesed had been pushed out by glasses, braces, and acne. I would never become a popular girl, much less an alpha. No boy would ever have a crush on me, and Kayla was hardly my follower. If she ever even listened to me, I would probably look up and see flying pigs, while little bits of ice slowly froze across hell. In other words, it would never happen. I brushed loose strands of curly blonde hair away from my face, fixing it all into a loose ponytail. Kyla coughed, and I looked up in surprise.
"Oh. Yeah. Thanks, Kyla." In my dream, if I smiled at Beatrice, she would grin hugely, honored. But since it wasn't my dream, Kyla barely nodded, paging through her scienc book. I slid out my journal, the front completely covered in random doodles. I slid out my pen, and added a picture of the scarf I had seen it JoHanna's last weekend to the endless array of sketches covering the cover. A rose joined it, and soon I felt like I was the pen, coasting across paper, leaving a trail of black ink.
"What's that?" Though almost everything in my dream had been made up, Kristy Cullen is real. And now she was asking about my picture. A number of sassy retorts begged me to open my mouth so they could be said, but I ignored them. Pursing my lips, I didn't respond. "Well? You're a weird artist." Again, the retorts pummeled my mouth, trying to get me to open my lips. I still didn't speak. I would save the diva-ness for my friend Melinda Block, (another real thing from my dream) who, unlike Kyla, actaully seem to care. I knew how to make her laugh, cry, or yell. We were tight, best friends. She was the only one who knew what the doodles on my notebook really stood for. A pair of lips, for the fact that I've never been kissed, a broomstick because I love Harry Potter, a lion because it's my favorite animal, a splotch of red for when I got run over by a motorized scooter, a wheel because I long to drive, and other things amongest that. Melinda came in late for History, her blond curls in a messy bun. She wore a pair of black leggings, and an oversized white sweatshirt, paired with black converse. I stared down at my olive green sweater dress, black tights, ankle boots, and the green headband that kept my blonde locks from falling into my eyes. I had bought it all at H&M yesterday, despite the fact that Seventeen Magazine told me it was so last season.
"Weeeeeeelll? I'm still here, loser. And in case that greasy hair is covering your ears, you should know that I want an answer." I looked at Kristy.
"These drawing are private. Not for nosy girls." I could see her fists clenching. Thank god the teacher rang a silver bell, causing everyone, including Kristy, to turn around. I flipped around my thick Harry Potter book, reading off random pages. I didn't matter. I had read the Harry Potter books a million times, but the stories still warmed me like a steaming cup of hot cocoa.
My name is Amelia Enstaey. I'm sixteen, with frizzy blonde hair, glasses, and braces with yellow rubber bands. I suck at sports, I'm not popular, and even though I excel at academics, A's don't help me become A-list. As usaul, Julie Dunlap floated into class at least ten minutes late, her fluffy brown hair making her look like a fairy queen. I almost barfed. Julie Dunlap is the typical, diva princess, which made every single guy in our grade trail after her like lost puppies. She threw a kiss to her crush Brad Anderson, who gave her a smile back. They weren't together, but I knew that they would be soon. Nobody who was anybody didn't fall for Julie in a big way.

"Why are you staring at Julie Dunlap?" Kyla blurted out. "I though you hated each other!" I shrugged.
"She doesn't hate me, she hates every nerd." I replied. Julie was sasheying in front of my desk now, heading over to her seat by her best friend, Penny Welsh. She gave me a frosty glare at she walked by.
"God. That lady needs some serious chill time." Remarked Kyla, and I held in a giggle.
Kyla Bloom isn't a nerd, but she isn't popular either. She has light brown waves that she holds up in a ponytail, and icy blue eyes. We aren't really friends, more like classmates. I torn a piece of notebook paper off and began to fold it. I rolled it around in my palm until I felt something hit my back. I turned around. Penny Welsh had thrown a full bottle of permanent ink at me.

Author's Note

Please ignore the grammar problems. I have serious spelling issues.