The Anarchy Princess

3. "Ben, and cheryl."

Ben. Benjamin fucking Schafer. The quarterback football star who fell in "love" with a quiet cheerleader. She was carefree, kind, and beautiful. She was everything that he craved. And that would ultimately be his downfall. He cared for her. A quiet, laid back, gentleman. But he soon changed, as he would quickly fall for another. A girl, bubbly, snarky, fiercely outgoing. Widely popular, among all. They had soon become the "it" couple. Leaving the other girl to vanish as quickly as Dust in The Wind. The "friends" that she had, soon decided they too, liked the more bubbly, snarky girl. For she was everything this girl was not, what she chose not to be. While Ben had his popularity rapidly on a rise, hers had taken a quick decrease, she fell under the totem pole as a "loser." And with her brother's popularity being held up by their surname, she was always now laughed at, made fun of, or pity'ed on. She wasn't going to let him win. Ever. She took a vow to not care. After all, that's who she was. A carefree spirit. She would always have been this way, if it wasn't for him to ruin that for her. July Teller would not let him ruin her.
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Cheryl Winters, or Cherry. She was the bad girl, the wild and only child of Shelby and Harold Winters. They owned a film industry company in California, soon they became rich and decided to raise their child the way they thought one's "supposed to" and sent her to a public school. Let's just say, it wouldn't work in their favor. She was still outgoing, and became at the very top of the totem pole. Right underneath, you guessed it, Benjamin Schafer. He had caught wind of her name buzzing all throughout school. Unfortunately, so did July Teller. Ben was more into Cherry, than she was him. And after all, he had July, right? You couldn't be more wrong. He had publicly humiliated this poor girl, at their own homecoming football game, in front of the entire school. Sorrow. That was all she felt, as he had held up a large sign in the middle of the field that Cherry Winters, stood in front of. She was more than mad. She stormed off. She cried. Many had felt sorry for her, others didn't really care about drama. She had taken everything in stride. He would regret dumping her for Cherry. Because as he held up his relationship with her. July would soon finding herself staring into the bright green eyes of a young boy, and she wouldn't know the meaning of hurt anymore. Those bright green eyes would belong to the one and only Dean Winchester. Many girls had swooned over him. Many would get their chance to. But he only liked one person in particular. One he was sure to never let wander too far from reach. His level of popularity had increased, hers as well, since they were exclusive. Ben was overly jealous that she moved on, and with someone whom he hated. He would always try to talk with her every chance he got, but would always get turned down or not given chances. He became infuriated that she ignored him. So he decided to make their lives hell. And for July, that was too much. Ben wasn't one to hold grudges. But he would, with the one blonde who he couldn't stop thinking of, and her new boyfriend. He didn't like the thought. He tried to get over it, with Cherry. He would take her to dinners, to movies, even shopping, which he really hated. She would be at every school party on the planet, if he would take her there. He wasn't a party type. With July, he had no game. He's a football star, sure but he never had to ever impress July. With Cherry? It was way different, she couldn't survive without the attention. She craved it. She needed him for it. It was like a magnetic force to receive all compliments from people she knew. It wasn't easy for her, she needed to be validated by Ben. After all, he was her boyfriend. She shouldn't have to ask. She was entitled, yeah. But who isn't? She was always looked at for being in the "film star" business. But it wasn't her. She was just a normal teenager, trying to fit in with the rest of them. She wasn't molded into her parent's picture perfect image. She was human who felt and coped with things too. He was there, beside her through all of it. He knew what it was like to be shaped into someone, something you're not. They understood, and together it was better. But his mind would frequently wander, to the blonde he left standing on the sideline that day, broken, hurt. His rage was high, his pain was high. He was angry at the world, at himself. He left her, broken and alone that day. He would never forgive himself for it. He had a bat taken to his leg. He was out of commission until it fully healed. He was angry at her brother for that. He had his whole future on the line. If he hadn't broken her heart again, he wondered where they would be? He imagined they would be laying down, on his bed, laughing at some dumb rom com that she picked out while he got up to get them food to watch with. He imagined she would sign his cast with a cute note, one he would take a picture of and cut off, for a piece of remembrance after he was healed. He sighed, day dreaming about her again. Then the sorrow had set, his fuck up. He would never get her back. He knew it was a horrible act he had committed but he couldn't help the boring feeling that had set into place in their lives. It would have taken a lifetime for him to get over her if the roles were reversed. He could only live with his actions. He would never feel her touch, to kiss her head, to never cuddle up to her again. He hated himself, more than she did.