ianowt one shot; sydney novaks pov (i am not okay with this show)

1

It was an April morning, Sydney Novak lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling, breathing in and sighing heavily. Her short and stubborn auburn hair was messy and rested on her pillow. Considering she had gotten so stressed in class that she viciously hacked it off with craft scissors, it didn't look too bad. Her cheeks were cherry red, with constellations of freckles darted on her face. 

Sydney hadn't had a wink of sleep, and her tiredness was creeping up on her. Her eyes darted around the ceiling, watching the dots zoom around at her command. It looked like the visible noise you would get in a camera from the 90s. Grainy and irregular, but swarming around like millions and millions of fireflies. Her mind was never quiet. If she wasn't worrying about the days prior or ahead, there was always a constant buzzing sound. Sometimes it was higher pitched, especially when Sydney got angry or stressed. She thought about getting up. She thought about school. She thought about Dina.

On the way to school, she tried to stare forward and speed walk past Stanley Barber's house. Of course, to her realisation, avoiding him didn't work. Maybe he stared outside his window waiting for her. 

Pathetic.. Her inner monologue remarked.

"Oh! It's you! Uh, Hey, Syd!"

Stanley walked out his door, acting as if it was a coincidence, and they just so happened to bump into each other. Stanley was wearing a blue button up shirt and white, worn out jeans. He stood awkwardly, trying to be cool, leaning on his dads car. It was a dull light orange colour, and made weird noises when you drove it. Sydney had let Stan drive her before, and she was genuinely wondering if pieces would start flying off and hit the people behind them.

Sydney paused, turning her head and blinking at him. Every bone in her body wanted to simply walk away from Stan. He always made everything so... Awkward. But she had to like him, right?

Why don't I like him? It's not him... it's me. I shouldn't be a bitch, she thought. Nonetheless, admit it or not, Stanley Barber is the epitome of lame.

"Yeah.. Um.. Hey."

She clutched her backpack straps, holding her navy blue bag which was hanging on both shoulders, weighing her down slightly. 

"W-want a lift?" He smiled innocently, before dipping his head and looking at his shoes.

Sydney paused again, "I'm okay thanks Stan. I'm gonna head to school." 

He chuckled awkwardly before Syd walked off, preparing herself for another day of 11th Grade.
Her thoughts were running a marathon, circling around her skull, speaking to her. No, shouting, even. Her Doc Martens hit the ground on each step, making a small thud noise. Sydney didn't understand why Stan was so eager to talk to her, as their conversations didn't really lead anywhere. She had read online that when you like someone, they make you feel all floaty and warm somewhere in your stomach, but Sydney had never really got what that meant. She told herself that she liked him, maybe eventually she will.

When Sydney arrived at her school, she walked up the steps, looking for Dina, her best friend. Her eyes glanced around, focusing on each person, the hundreds of people walking into school and sitting on benches, waiting for the bell to ring. Finally, she spotted Dina standing near a tree, leaning against it, casually but gracefully. Sydney sped up, noticing she seemed to be talking to someone else.

"Di-"

She stopped in her tracks. Her eyes lay upon Brad Lewis.

Brad shit head Lewis. That's who Dina's staring at, giggling, immersed in his gross smirk and his boring conversations. Even his name is disgusting. He's such a dick, I mean, what does she even see in him?! He's pathetic, and he thinks he's so cool, doesn't he?

Sydney took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a brief second, slowly opening them, still clutching her backpack straps. She shuffled her feet and watched the two walk away, hand in hand, towards the school's main entrance. Along with feeling a strange melange of jealousy, anger and confusion, her heart dropped to her stomach, stirring and going cold, radiating helplessness and the feeling of giving up. She's afraid. She's afraid of being second best. She's afraid of loosing... her best friend.

'Friend.'

What even is she to Syd? Friend? Best friend? Maybe it's one sided, But Dina can't help but send scrambled and confusing mixed signals. Maybe she enjoys the thought of Sydney lying awake at one o'clock in the morning, unravelling and analysing every word she says, every look she gives her and everything she does. Maybe she enjoys playing Sydney like a puppet, pulling her strings, but throwing her in a gutter when Brad appears. 

'I'm not jealous. I couldn't care less. I'm not jealous. I'm not... Jealous.'