One of the Masses

    “We are gonna miss you so much!” one of my girls, Talia, tells me. I feel her hand on my shoulder, so I turn to face her and the others with a perfected pout.
    “I know, I know. I’m going to miss you guys as well. But this is totes important to my fam, so I have to go along with it,” I reply as I flip my long hair over my shoulder and straighten my necklaces. “But I have to say, I’m super excited. Going to an even better private school? It’ll be stellar.” The girls wring their hands, and look sad, though I happen to know that Elle wants to be the queen bee more than anything, and the others are probably perfectly okay with it.
    “We should have a proper send off, like a party,” Elle says excitedly, clapping her hands as she bounced in Elsa Schiaparelli stilettos. The others start clamoring, discussing options happily. I cut them off by a raised hand. I can’t help but notice it takes them longer than normal to quiet down, as if my authority was depleting.
    “I already started planning one, girls,” I drawl, poking my fat-free fro yo with my spoon as I gaze around the yogurt shoppe. Elle narrows her eyes for a millisecond before smiling widely and leaning in her spot next to me to give me a loose, one-armed hug.
    “You’re such a genius,” Elle giggles as she drops her arm. Talia, Lara, Kate, and Vera all agree, but out of the corner of my eye I see Elle rolling her eyes as she picks at the fresh-fruit adorning her vanilla fro yo.
    “I know I am, Elle. That’s why I’m first in class, and you’re just second.” I know it’s a little harsh, but I haven’t even left yet, so Elle has no right to try and step up as the leader.
    “You are for now. But I’ll be first once you’re gone,” she mutters in return under her breath, pulling out her iPhone and tapping away at it. I narrow my eyes and stand up, adjusting my denim mini and sit back down. I’ll ignore her. For now.
    “Anyway, Eastwood Academy has a pool, and they added a jacuzzi,” I confide in the girls, watching Elle sneer out of the corner of my eye. “And they have a new year party. On the first friday of the new school year, there’s this huge semi-formal soiree. I cannot wait to buy a dress and have tons of fun.” I giggle, looking around at the half sad, half trying-to-look-happy-for-the-alpha faces.
    “It sounds like your new school will be ah-mazing. You’re gonna miss us, right?” Kate prodded, gazing at me with brown puppy-dog eyes.
    “Natch,” I tell them, tapping my long fingernails against the silver tabletop.
    “Sayonara,” I hear Elle murmur to her screen, where she’s still texting someone. I feel my hair stand on end. What is up with her?
    “Uh, Elle, you know I’m gonna miss you like crazy, right?” I say in an emotional voice. Maybe Elle’s just worried her dear alpha is leaving, and needs some reassurance.
    “Yeah, I’m sure,” Elle scoffs.
    “What’s up with you?” I ask her kindly, placing a narrow hand on her arm.
    “Nothing. I’m just so totally torn up about you going, I can’t think straight. What will I do without my beloved leader? How on earth will I go on? We all know you’re just gonna disappear off the radar. Poof. No more Stephanie Fox. The world will probably end.”
    “You know what, Elle?” I say, seething. I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to start over in a new town, no matter what I tell the girls. I love my school, and I am an excellent ruler! And Elle’s consistent bad attitude is seriously wearing me down. So I stand up, already haggard from all my lies.
    “What, Stephanie? What are you gonna do? You’re leaving!” Elle stands up too, grabbing her own purse and nervously twisting her hair as she tries to look tough. What is going on? Why is this happening to me? The girls all turn, looking shocked, at the two of us. The best friends.
    “And what, you think that means you’re gonna take over? Maybe Talia will!” Okay, that’s a shot in the dark, I know it. Talia has the brains of a butterfly. Utterly beautiful and delicate on the outside, pretty much goo on the inside. Talia gasps.
    “No t-thanks,” Talia murmurs, playing with her brunette locks, not looking at me. I ignore her, still facing off my once best friend.
    “Yeah, right. Or maybe Lara, or Kate, or Vera.” Elle looks at the timid faces before her before continuing. “They don’t want to. They want me to lead them. And I will. I will be the queen. You can go off and do it somewhere else. I am so sick of living in your shadow. You were only the queen because you were the first one in ninth grade to make a clique, us, and then you decided you would lead, and lucky you, it just happened to carry through sophomore year. But it is one week until junior year starts, and guess what? Goodbye, Stephanie. You’re out, and I’m in.” Finished, breathing heavily, Elle crosses her arms leaning back, looking pleased. But this isn’t done.
    “You stupid, little beta!” I cry. “The only reason you’re even in the clique, is because of me. Don’t just think,” I sneer, taking a threatening step towards Elle, wondering how on earth this day went from fun yogurt to a fight with my best friend and second in command. “That you are next in line. Once I’m gone, anyone in the entire school can become the queen. And I’m going to make sure you have a terrible start.” I flip open my phone, sending a quick text to my party planner, who’s in charge of my Going Away party.

Elissa, note: knock Elle Williams AWF of guest list, got it? shes done.

    “There. You’re off my guest list. As in, you are now AH-ficially off the guest list of the final, and best, party of the summer. Let’s see what that does to your popularity,” I snort, motioning to Talia, Lara, Kate, and Vera to follow me out the little cafe. I glance back at Elle, who’s still open-mouthed and completely done for. I can tell my friends are a little weirded out and nervous about what just went down, so I breathe in and take it upon myself to calm them.
    “Guys,” I begin, smiling sweetly, though I would bet my blue eyes are shooting sparks. But I have no idea what else to say. Sorry, guys, that I just pushed out my best friend and second in command. Not to worry though, all of your positions as my other friends are totally safe. When I leave, a perfect alpha will be there to take my place, don’t fret your pretty little heads. But that would be a lie.
    “Listen --”
    “Stop,” I hear quietly. I c**k my head to the side, confused and kind of irritated. Who would interrupt me? “It’s fine. We get it.” Vera comes forward, smiling at me. I have to smile at this. Vera is the most quiet in our group, the least likely to sleep with a stranger, and the nicest.
    “Get what?” I feel inclined to say, though I honestly have no idea what she’s talking about.
    “She means we know why you had to do that,” Lara squeals, jumping forward and wrapping her arms around my tightly. I laugh, not even caring that she’s wrinkling my shirt.
    “Seriously?” They all nod, and I feel suddenly extremely happy. All of my anger has dissipated. When I look at the four pairs of eyes before me, one green, two brown, and one hazel, I feel relieved. “Ready to help with the party, then?” I say to them, watching them all smile and laugh at the prospect.
    “Definitely!” they all cry in unison, wrapping me into a big bear hug.
    “Unlike Elle, we’re actually going to miss you,” Kate tells me, breaking up the hug and swinging her cherry red purse over her shoulder. “She’s been super bitchy lately, more than normal. We knew she wanted control, I just had no idea she’d freak out like that. It was good of you to lay down the law!”

As we walk the few minutes to my house, I can’t help but, as I listen to the chatter of excited friends around me, think about Elle. Is she still there, in the yogurt shoppe, depressed? Or has she gotten over her surprise, and is now angry and plotting? Was it a mistake to remove her off the guest list? She’s been my best friend for years now, how could she act like that, a little voice in the back of my head whispers. I shake my head, to clear my thoughts, trying to think of the future. Though, that’s kind of iffy too...

    I unlock the front door of my very large home, motion the girls inside, and inwardly moan at my tired feet. While I adore my new wedge sandals, they weren’t made for walking. I guide the girls to our living room, turn on the TV, and leave them to talk among themselves while I tell the cook to make us a snack. After only a few minutes of party planning, the front door opens, and my parents walk in.
    “Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Fox!” my friends chorus. I stand to greet them, my insides still in turmoil over Elle. My parents dump their coats into the maids arms and rush forward to give a hug and plant a kiss on my cheek.
    “Hello, Mom, Dad,” I say sweetly, accepting their greetings. I turn back to my friends, leaving my parents to their parent-y things, but I notice something is off. I can’t help it. I have a knack for it.
    “Mom?” I ask tentatively, grabbing her arm in my pale hand. “What’s wrong?” My parents exchange looks before they both break into enormous smiles. Fake smiles. Now I’m very weirded out.
    “Excuse me, guys,” I say sweetly to my friends, and they nod me out with a smile. My parents and I go into the kitchen, where I lean on the counter and cross my arms.
    “What’s going on?” I ask again, trying to sound angry rather than plain old confused.
    “Darling,” my mom begins, rushing forehead and hugging, pinning my arms to the sides. I wriggle free, raising an eyebrow.
    “Yes?” My mom looks to my father, as if asking him silently to explain for her. My mom always does that. She hates confrontations more than anything in the entire world. Except maybe plaid with floral. I remember once when I was little, I asked her if I could go out to the mall or something. She at first said no, and when I started pestering her and throwing a (very small!) tantrum, she literally walked out of the room.
    “Stephie, there seems to be a problem with your school,” my dad tells me quietly. Which he never does. My dad is a bellower. His laugh is like thunder.
    “Rochester Day?” I ask, talking about my current school. “What do you mean? And what does it matter, I’m leaving in a week so I won’t even be going there this year.”
    “No, honey, I mean the school you’ll be going to, Eastwood Academy.”
    “What’s wrong with it?”
    “It seems some of your papers have been... misplaced.”
    “So?”
    “So...” here my dad comes forward and places one of his large hands on my dainty shoulder. “You may not be able to attend for the first few weeks. It all depends really...” he trails off, turning away and rubbing his dark goatee. My mom wraps her skinny arm around my shoulder and squeezes, but I barely feel it.
    “Depends on what, Dad?” I seeth, talking through my teeth. How can I not go to school? Isn’t that truancy? As in, illegal? I’ll fall behind, have to take summer school, or worse... Retake the entire 11th grade. This is a total nightmare. Oh my God. What if my parents expect me to stay at Rochester Day? I’m having a goodbye party. And my dad is being transferred, so what, would my parents just leave me here with the help?
    “Depends on when they find your paperwork,” I hear my dad say through my tumultuous thoughts. My head is thumping, and I can feel my body temperature rising.
    “How can they lose my paperwork?” I ask, breathing heavily. This is a complete disaster. I have no idea what to do.
    “Your portfolio, with all your information and work. The essays and things required to move through the grades,” my mother cuts in, sharing a worried look with my father. They should be worried!
    “I can’t stay at Rochester!” I cry desperately. “I’ve already told everyone I’m leaving! Do you have any idea how it will look if I don’t go?” I need my parents to understand.
    “You won’t be.”
    “Everyone will think I’m a lying flake, and that I just did it for attention!”
    “Well, you’re not staying, so --”
    “And then Elle might take over, because everyone will be looking down on me, and then I’ll be nothing! I can’t be nothing! I was always meant to be queen bee!” I can’t stop, until finally my mom slaps a hand over my mouth. I breathe in the Chanel N°5 wafting from my mom’s thin delicate wrist, calming myself down.
    “Stephanie Brielle Fox, calm down this instant! You aren’t going to stay at Rochester!” my mother cries. She rolls her eyes, dropping her hand and examining her manicure. “You’ll be going to school in New York. Like we planned, with Eastwood Academy.”
    “I don’t follow,” I say in a brittle voice. I recross my arms and try to breathe through my endless befuddlement.
    “There’s another school in the area,” my dad explains in a modulated tone. He then smiles graciously and looks at me like I’m a child. The one thing I hate more than anything, is being treated like a kid. I am not a kid. I’m 16. I am almost old enough to vote. (Not that I really care about voting, I mean, honestly, I’ve learned by now that no matter who is president, not much changes.)
    “Uhm, no, you said there was just the one private school, so I had to get it,” I reply tautly. This is getting ridiculous. I stamp my foot, fully accepting my role as child-brat. “Just tell me what’s going on. My friends are in the other room! I have to get back to them so I can plan my party!”
    “It’s a public school,” my mom breathes quickly, after a few moments of dead, heavy silence. I can’t do anything but stare, open-mouthed, at my parents.
    “What,” I croak out, though I sound like a dying frog. “P-public school? You mean, like, with the masses?” Anxious to console myself from the nightmare I am now living, I stroke my Betsey Johnson necklace, inhaling my Clive Christian N°1 at the same time.

“It would only be a few weeks,” my dad reaches out for me, enveloping me in another hug. I push at his arms, angry beyond belief. I know, I know, it’s not my parents fault. But hey, kill the messenger, right?

“You guys are the worst parents in the world! Sending me to public school? Might as well send me to prison, because that’s where half the students will end up! God, what’s wrong with you? Do you hate me? You must hate me. Because that is the only plausible reason I can think of that you would make me go to fuh-reakin PUBLIC SCHOOL.” I breathe in and out, just like my yoga instructor taught me. Today has been an awful day. First a huge fight with my best friend, and now this torture? My life is over. I cannot go to a normal school with the unwashed. I belong with the other rich people. Before my mom and dad can respond, I storm out of the kitchen in a huff, my bare feet slapping like gunfire against our marble floors.

“Steph, where ya been?” Vera asks me, looking up from her laptop. She’s wearing her Focusing Headband, which she keeps in her bag at all times, to hold back her short, black, layered hair so she can concentrate. I momentarily freeze, unsure. Do I tell them the truth? Or feign confidence and keep planning?

    Confidence.
    “Oh, they just wanted to warn me to not let the party get out of hands,” I whisper, scrunching up my nose and giggling. The girls all laugh with me, and I feel majorly depressed.
    “So, oh em gee, I had this amazing idea...” I faintly hear Kate croon, as she twists her long, dark-blonde hair into a loose bun. I nod along with her, wrapped up in my own thoughts.

* * *

    “Breathe in through the nose. Hold it... now release it through your mouth. Make your breath the carrier of your troubles, allow them to flow out of you...” my yoga instructor tells me. I try to breathe, but I can’t stop thinking about public school. My party is on today. I should be relaxing, and planning my outfit.
    I try to focus on my party -- how amazing it will be, all the hot guys that will be there, all the friends and goodbye presents...
    In.
    Out.
    In.
    Out.
    “Excellent job!” Angela tells me, sliding her hand into mine and pulling me upwards to standing. “Are you feeling better?” I nod half-heartedly, sighing. Angela pats me on the back with a 1000-watt smile before gathering up her stuff and walking out.
    I need to busy myself. I cannot think about the unthinkable. About pu--
    NO. What did I just think? I mentally scream at my brain. Clothes, clothes, clothes. What dress to wear? Or buy? Should I buy a dress? I think I’m going to buy one. Yes, yes, maybe purple? Or a dark royal blue.
    I glance at my Tiffany watch, calculating. The party starts at 8:30pm, it’s 11:30 am now.
    I have never been more nervous in my life. This party officially ends my reign. Who will be the next queen? Not Elle. And what if the party is lame? Everyone will remember it, and associate it with me. I need more alcohol. That always livens up the party.
    “Mia!” I cry out to my maid. She scuttles in, clutching a rag.
    “Yes, Miss Fox?” she says meekly, smoothing back her bun with one hand.
    “Order more alcohol for the party. Make sure we have plenty of champagne to toast me!”
    “Yes, Miss Fox,” Mia hunches her head, walking over to the phone. I sigh, beginning my long walk upstairs. How to wear my hair? Which dress to wear? I don’t even feel like going out to get one. Sigh.

* * *

    “Ehmahgawd, Steph, you look gorg!” Talia cries over the music, swaying slightly in her heels. Her eyes are glassy and she has the giggles. I smooth down the front of my ink blue strapless wrap dress, laughing. I lean forward to whisper in my friend’s ear.
    “So do you,” I scream. “Where are the others?” I feel Talia shrug when she bashes me on the chin with her shoulder.
    “Whoops,” she snorts, tottering away to get another drink. I smile again, greeting people and talking to them for a while. As I mingle, I spot something.
    Blonde hair. Blonde hair that just so happens to belong to a girl I once called my best friend, but since a few days, I wish to never ever see again.
    “Elle!” I scream, desperate to be heard over the music. She is not getting away with this. I mean, seriously, gate-crashing my Going Away party? Unforgiveable.
    “Stephanie!” Elle appears in front of me, grabbing my arm and tugging me toward my bedroom. I try to shake out of her grip, but she refuses to let go. I slam my door shut behind me, so the loud bass is a distant thumping.
    “What are you doing here?” I hiss, wrenching my arm away and crossing them. Elle ran a hand through her hair, do the hitched breathing she only has when she’s really emotional. I can’t help but be jealous of her dress, which is shimmery bronze silk with a one-quarter sleeve on one side and a chain strap on the other.
    “Listen, Steph, I am so sorry,” Elle blurts out. “I know I shouldn’t have done that a few days ago. But you do not understand -- my phone has been silent. No texts, no calls. No one wants to hang out with me. You were right, like always. I should have asked who you wanted to be your successor, instead of assuming it would be me. And I shouldn’t have been such a total b***h to you anyway. I’m just majorly torn up about you going, and I know your life is going to be fabulous at your new school. You’ll just be the queen bee there, and you’ll forget all of us.”
    I hesitate. This is a crucial moment. Should I tell her the truth about my school? It’s quite an amazing performance... that apology was one of her best. I take a deep breath, stroking my necklace, feeling each link bump under my smooth hand. I look at Elle’s face again. She’s waiting for my verdict. I can say yes, forgiven, and then tell her everything. Or I can say no, and kick her out.
    There’s no point ending your time here in bad blood, Steph, a voice in my head reminds me. Okay. I’ll go for the third option.
    “Okay, Elle. You’re forgiven,” I mutter, looking at the floor. “But even when I’m at my fancy new school, I promise not to forget any of you!” Elle bounds forward and wraps her arms around me tightly. I breathe in the familiar scent of strawberries off her hair, but I feel nauseous.
    “Let’s never fight again,” Elle breathes excitedly. She taps a finger against her perfect chin. “Though not like you’ll be around to argue with anyway,” she winks. I lightly shove her, forcing a laugh. Right. I won’t be here. Thanks for the reminder.
    I push open the door, walking back into the party, but I honestly don’t want to party at all. Ever. I would prefer a cozy bed and the fetal position for the rest of eternity. Anything to escape the nightmare. School is starting on Wednesday. Today is Friday. We’re leaving tomorrow to make the move.
    “Stephanie!” is being called around the room. People are touching my arms and shoulders in a supposed to be comforting manner. The room is starting to spin. I make my way to one of the food tables, grabbing a flute of champagne and downing it as quickly as possible. The fizz of the bubbles is sweet, and partially calms me. I try breathing in my perfume, but I still feel light-headed. Ohh, God...
   


    “Stephanie?”
    Uuurgghh. My name again. Why do people need me so often? Can’t they just leave me alone?
    “Stephanie, are you all right?” I hear again. I feel someone touching my wrist, and my head.
    “I think she’s fine,” said a second voice. Owww. My eyes. I squint through the bright light, sending thumps through my head. I try to look around me and see my own bedroom. The familiar walls are spinning, but I can see a couple people around me. The girls and Mia are standing over me, all looking concerned.
    “Steph! You’re awake!” Vera cried dropping on top of me to hug me. I prop myself up on my many pillows and untangle myself from all my friends arms.
    “What happened?” I mumble, but my throat feels thick. Elle suddenly leaned over extremely close to me, and I dropped back in surprise.
    “You fainted, or something,” she said smiling oddly. I looked around again. All of them were smiling oddly.
    “Why are your faces so weird?” I ask, but my tongue feels glued to my mouth and my whole body seems to ache.
    “We so worried,” Mia tells me in her strong spanish accent, rubbing her hands together nervously. I sit up, trying to hear the music from the party. I guess the bemusement was clear on my face, because Talia pops forward to explain.
    “You collapsed in the middle of the room!” Talia says excitedly. “We had to call the paramedics, but they told us that it was probably just dehydration and exhaustion so they gave us some pills and said to put you in bed. We’ve been waiting and wandering around your house. I’m glad you’re finally up!”
    I rub my eyes, trying to see through a blur. Clock. Time. What time is it? What day is it? And where are my parents?
    “What time is it? What day is it? Where’re my parents?” I mumble, reaching for the glass of water on my nightstand.
    “Uhm, about one in the morning. So technically Saturday. And they’re in the other room, they might be asleep. After the paramedics left, they left us to look after you.”
    “Shows how much they care,” I mutter to myself, my head finally starting to clear as I downed the water. Talia, Kate, and Lara are starting to look bored; they’re wandering around my room looking at things. Elle is opening my closet door. But Vera sits on my bed, placing a hand on mine.    
    “Steph, you oughtta just rest. I called a car to come get us. Mia will be here, so you should be fine. But... look, I told your parents to go to sleep,” Vera whispers, pausing. “I dunno, I thought you’d not want to see them.” She glances around the room, watching our friends.
    “Why would I not want to see them?” I whisper back, nearly choking with my still-dry mouth.
    “Uhm. They were talking in the hallway with the paramedics, while the girls were in here and I was getting the glass of water.  The medics were asking a reason why you might have fainted when you never have before. And I heard your mom say something about you moving.”
    “What about it?” I stare at my comforter, fiddling with it between my fingers. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. Oh Gawd. Please... please... no...
    “That you’re going to a place called... Taft High? I thought you said you were going to a place called Eastwood? Well... I kind of googled it. It’s a public high school. Did I hear wrong?”
    No. No. Nononononononononononononononononononono. This can’t be happening. What have my parents subjected me to that I have to lie to my best friends?!
    “Obviously, Vera,” I hear myself say in a snotty tone, “you are going deaf, because there is no way in hell that I would ever go to public school.” Vera looks hurt, and stands up, crossing her arms.
    “Whatever, Stephanie. I just.... nevermind,” Vera strode quickly away, joining Elle by my closet, and laughing at something Elle says.
    I sit, leaning against my pillows, watching the girls.
    “Can you guys go?” I say loudly. They all turn in surprise, except Vera, who keeps shoving through my clothes.
    “Are you sure?” Lara asks me, walking forward and perching on the edge of my bed. She twirls her auburn hair around her finger, a habit that annoys me immensely.
    “Yeah, I wanna sleep, and I’m leaving tomorrow. I still have to pack all my clothes and my bed stuff...” I trail off as the girls start gathering their stuff. I motion to Mia for more water, so within thirty seconds I’m alone.
    I don’t know what’s worse. I mean, I normally love parties. I am definitely an extrovert. I make friends easily, I can talk to anyone. But I love being alone sometimes. Left with my own imagination. But not right now. Not when all I can think about is my future, and how I don’t know what will happen when I leave the house I have always known.
    How am I supposed to sleep now? Sighing, I shut off my phone and plop it on the charger. I clap to turn off the lights, then roll over.

* * *

    “Nice, isn’t it?” my mom says smiling, draping an arm around my shoulder and dropping the small box she was holding. She motions around the foyer, guiding me through the hall, pointing at the old-fashioned chandeliers.
    “It’s all really gorgeous, Mom,” I tell her, wriggling free. I hate the look of all the boxes. And her endlessly cheerful attitude is seriously annoying me. And she’s being extra motherly because of my stupid fainting spell. I mean, c’mon! I fainted, FAINTED! Because I was so worried about pu-- Nevermind. It doesn’t matter.
    What matters is my new house! And my new room! And the fact that I have one more full day before school starts!
    Gag me.
    “Darling, you look bored,” my mom tells me as I lean against the counter, staring at my phone. I haven’t gotten any texts all day. This is ridiculous. Where have my friends gone?
    “I am bored, Mom. The place is empty.”
    “So unpack a swimsuit, and go check out the pool! It was just cleaned, so it should look perfect.” I sigh, tucking my phone into my bag and trudging up the spiral staircase. Swimming? Seriously? Alone? Whatever. I might as well go tanning. I feel a bit sun-deprived. Staying a car for hours on end seriously makes you feel trapped.
    After I change, I head out to the pool. I inch open the door to peek out. Pretty. Decorated with rocks and a miniature waterfall, it was no-doubt beautiful. And a jacuzzi in a little room, so it could be used in the winter too. I could deal with this.
    “Ugh!” I heard someone say. Holy crap. Who was that? I lean farther around the door, and then I spy with my little eye, something extremely hot.
    “Hello?” I call out, eyes full of luciousness. I walk out onto the patio, dropping my tote bag on the reclining pool chair and slipping on some sunnies. “Anyone out here?” I straighten my bikini top as I speak, keeping my eye on the guy.
    “Uh yeah, just me,” I hear in reply.
    “Who’s me?” I say teasingly, now only about ten feet about from a very cute, very tan back.
    “Noel...” Mystery Boy replies grumpily, turning around, holding one of those net things with the long handles for cleaning pools. “Oh,” he says quietly, peering at me with a confused look. “Who are you?”
    “I live here,” I grin, crossing my arms. Noel looks unimpressed.
    “Oh, so you’re the reason I had to get up earlier than ever to clean the pool. That I cleaned yesterday. You don’t seem that special.” Noel turns away, quickly packing up tons of pool-related items.
    “Rude, much?” I snort, dropping my arms. Why did I ever think this boy was cute? He’s the pool boy for Pete’s sake.
    “You would know, wouldn’t you?” Noel retorts cheerfully, smiling.
    “Don’t smile! This isn’t funny. You work for me, you know. I could fire you like that.” I snap my fingers for emphasis, smiling haughtily.
    “Oh, really? So nice to meet you, Mr. Fox.” Noel drops all of his stuff, wiping his hand on his cargo shorts before offering it to me.
    “What?” I ask, taking a step away, trying to ignore his distractingly muscular chest. Instead I look at his face, though that’s not much easier. He’s obviously Latino, with long dark silky hair and deep brown eyes. He looks dirty though, and stubbly. He obviously didn’t shave this morning.And he’s all sweaty and gross.
    “You must be Nathaniel Fox, the person who bought this house and pays me, right? You look kind of odd, though,” Noel grins, tilting his head to the side and running his fingers through his hair.
    “Ha ha, you’re so funny. Not. I’m his daughter, Stephanie.” I glare at Noel, stomping back over to my stuff to get something to wrap around myself. Now that I know mystery guy is an annoying, dirty pool cleaner, there’s no need to be sexy.
    “You look pretty young,” he notes, going back to gathering his stuff. I roll my eyes and scoff at him.
    “Oh, please. How old are you, seventeen?”
    “Actually, yes. And how old are you?”
    “Sixteen.”
    “Oh. So you’re in high school? Are you going to go to Taft High?” No. No. He, of all people, cannot make me face this. There is no way that I am telling Mr. High Horse that I am going to public school.
    “No, I’m going private. That’s how the rich people do it,” I smirk, turning away so he can’t see me blush.
    “Is being a snob the way rich people do it to?” Noel mutters, grabbing a duffle bag and the equipment and shoving through the screen door. I watch him walk away, feeling hurt, confused, and extremely angry. Mainly angry.
    I can’t think, all my anger that I’d be holding burst out. At my parents for doing this to me, my friends for not contacting me, and Noel, for telling me exactly how I was acting. Which is why I barely thought about what I’m doing as I stalked into the house to find my father.
    “Dad!” I scream, tugging a towel around myself. “DAD!”
    “Stephie, what is it?” says my dad, appearing from the living room. I narrow my eyes, tapping my foot against the cold floor.
    “You know the pool boy?” Oh God. Who’s controlling my mouth? What am I saying? Why am I saying this?
    “Yes, honey, why? Was he still here?”
    “Yes! And...”
    “And what?”
    “And he... he...” I pause, breathing in. I can’t do this. This would be wrong. I am a bad person. “He made a whole bunch of vulgar comments about me,” I mutter, tightening my towel.
   

Reviews

[Kent Smotherman]

Exceptionally written - and I mean that whole-heartedly! A very nice writing style as well, very natural. The story itself didn't really grab me, but that's just personal taste. What you have written and they way it is written, however, is incredible professional. Excellent, excellent work. :)

[RNM]

thank you so much! :) i know it's a teen girl story, so it's not for everyone. But it's nice to receive positive feedback.

[AgnesLu]

Loved it. For a second there I thought I was reading a book!

[RNM]

Thank you so much! :)

[AgnesLu]

You're welcome :) So are you gonna post an update for this story? Would love to know what happens next !

[RNM]

Yeah I will! :) As soon as I write more!

[AgnesLu]

Alright great! Can't wait :)

[soliloquy]

You have an obvious knack for the conversation that exists among young people....this is very spirited and full of life.

It was easy to follow as well.

[Potter]

I really liked reading this! I think it would be a bit better with more spacing in between the paragraphs though. (That would make it easier to read)

I like the energy in this write....and you obviously put a lot of time into it since the story seems to be alive.

[RNM]

Thank you so much! :D

[Potter]

Do you have more writings?

[RNM]

I do, but not uploaded yet. i actually have an update for this story, and I'm thinking about sharing some of my poetry.

[Potter]

You should do that! I'm thinking it will be good.