Chapter 1

Briar Tisdale is the anti-social outsider in her school. However, her whole life changes when she meets Aaron Spencer, a popular guy with a not-so-good reputation.

Chapter 1: Briar

Holding back everything that you’re thinking about is one of the hardest things to do, especially when you are in a school full of cruel, rude, and unpleasant people. Because if you do end up shouting everything you’re thinking about out loud to the whole student body, you’d most likely get beat up within a matter of seconds.

I stand in front of my locker, which is right next to the most annoying girl ever living (not really, but you know what I mean, right?).

“Ugh,” she says as she opens her locker. Her name is Amanda Holland. She has blond hair, beautiful green eyes, and the perfect tan skin. That’s actually my problem. I easily get extremely jealous over stupid things that I shouldn’t even be worrying about. For example, I freaking love Amanda’s long hair, her height (she’s taller than me), her nails, her eyes (obviously), and of course, her skin. I just hate her attitude and character"she hates me too, despite the fact that she hardly even knows me.

“Why are guys such a pain in the a*s?” she says as soon as I get myself together after staring at her for, I hope, not long.

“Well,” I suddenly speak, probably committing a huge mistake, “We need guys in order to be satisfied.”

That’s when she turns to look at me. She’s not looking at me nasty or anything, but just a stare.

“Was I talking to you?” she says. The tone in her voice just angers me.

“I’m sorry,” I say before I close my locker and quickly walk off. I knew I shouldn’t have even opened my darn mouth. Whenever I do, I regret it because stupid crap just comes out of it. I hardly have any friends because of it too. People who I don’t even know even say that I’m annoying, which I don’t even get. It’s a cruel world. And sometimes I wonder if my life would be different if I was born in a different generation.

~

“Okay, um, Briar,” Mrs. Janet calls me. She’s my AP History teacher. I swear I think she hates me. I mean, why else would she call me? I don’t even know what in the world she just said before she called me. I hate this.

“Yes, ma’am?” I shyly respond.

“Who was the prime minister of Britain before Churchill?”

I know this.

“Neville Chamberlain,” I say before she says that I am correct and continues going on with whatever lesson we’re on. I have absolutely no idea why I am currently like this. I have all these thoughts going on in my head, and they’re not letting me focus. I’m talking almost running into a door in the hallways kind of unfocused. Maybe this is normal for a girl at my age, a girl who is a junior in high school"a girl who is seventeen.

After the bell rings, everybody rushes out, but of course, Mrs. Janet has to do that one move that teachers always do in the movies when they hold the kid for a while after class to talk to them. I just stand in front of her desk, waiting for her to finish putting the worksheets up. I already know how this is going to go down. She’s going to ask me why I’m slacking off, why I should start paying attention, and a threat to call my parents. I know this already.

However, I am proved wrong when she says, “Are you on drugs?”

Now my thoughts start going wild. My teacher just asked me something that I have never even laid my hands on. “Are you on drugs?” is what I want to ask her as a response, but instead, like the good girl everybody says and thinks I am, I just shake my head.

“No,” I say, “Absolutely not.”

“My apologies for asking,” she says, taking her glasses off. “I’ve just been noticing your grades and how they are slowly declining.”

“That doesn’t mean that I’m doing drugs, Mrs. Janet,” I say, “I’ve noticed too, and I’m sorry. I’ll try harder.”

“No, you’re going to have to prove to me that you actually will try harder,” she says. Why does she care anyways? “Briar, your grades aren’t just lowering in my class. I’ve noticed that your grades have also gone down in your English class, your Pre-Cal class, and even your Art class.”

“I know,” I say even though I had no idea that my grades were going bad there too.

“Just promise me that you’ll try to get your grades up,” she says. She sounds just like my mother.

“I promise,” I say.

“You’re a very smart girl, Briar, you truly are. But these grades just don’t belong to you. Make sure to try your best.”

After she says that, I just nod my head and leave the classroom. The good thing about it is History is my last class of the day. So I’m not late for anything, except I have to deal with my mom complaining about me taking long to get to the car. She agreed that I’d get a car by Christmas, which is less than two months away, so that’s something I’m looking forward to. As I pass through a whole crowd of people, the only things I hear is everyone gossiping, talking about parties, getting drunk, high, and having sex. I’ve never done any of those things, so I don’t even belong in this crowd.

I rush out of the building and quickly get into my mom’s car.

“Hi, Briar,” she says, “How was school?”

“Okay, I guess,” I buckle in my seatbelt.

“Are you sure? You want to go get some ice cream or something?” she says before I look at her and say, “Okay.”

She’s actually never this nice"I mean, she’s nice and all, but she’s always on my case. I can’t even have a friend over because she’ll be right outside my room eavesdropping on us. However, that’s not much of a problem with my not having friends and all. It’s also just me and her. I have two sisters but they live with my dad. A few years ago, my dad decided he didn’t love my mom anymore, proving that by having an affair with another woman. My mom was furious and wanted nothing with him, and I understood her because during that time period, I really hated him (well, not hate, but… I was just extremely pissed at him.)

I visit my dad during the holidays and spring break, but other than that, I’m my mom’s. As soon as we stop at Baskin Robbins, our favorite ice cream place, I quickly get out the car. But I find myself walking back to it when I notice that my mom hasn’t gotten out yet.

“Are you coming?” I ask when she rolls down the window. She shakes her head and says, “No, but here,” she hands me a twenty-dollar bill, “Get me a single-scoop chocolate.”

I just smile and roll my eyes before I go into the shop and get our ice creams. I always get double scoop, but I don’t have the same flavor every time. Each time I come, I get something different, unless I really hate the flavor.

After I pay, I thought I would walk right back to the car, but instead I find myself in front of the freezers in which you can take a bucket of ice cream home. I’m looking at the mint chocolate chip bucket. Come on, just take it, you still have a little over ten bucks left. I hate it when my thoughts start speaking to me, as if I don’t go through enough trouble when I talk and make decisions. Having the urge to open up the glass door and get the bucket, I find myself walking away, but not for too long when I bump into someone. Nice move, Briar, nice move.

“Oh s**t,” the person"guy"says before we make eye contact. I am suddenly staring into some gorgeous blue eyes, and then I find his dark hair, his light skin, and ugh, a snapback.

“Oh, I’m really sorry,” I quickly start saying before he takes my hand. Oh jeez.

“Hey, hey,” he even has a cute voice, “Don’t be. It was just an accident.”

I have trouble finding my next words but manage to get myself together and say, “Still, I’m sorry. I should really start watching where I’m going. I’m sorry.”

“Man, don’t be sorry. It’s all right, girl,” he says. There’s an awkward silence before he speaks again, “My name’s Aaron.”

“I’m Briar, Briar Tisdale,” I say.

“I saw you staring at that ice cream,” he says, “And only a true gentleman, like me, would like to buy it for such a pretty girl like you.”

Author's Note

Please ignore errors, and I hope you guys enjoyed it. Please let me know what you think:) I'd really appreciate it.