"So is it true?" I slam my locker to see a blonde looking expectantly at me. I sigh. Sadly, she's the locker right next to mine and she's so nosy. But for the first time, I have no idea what she's talking about.
"Is what true?" I ask, deeply confused. The girl hands me a newspaper and I check out the front page. It's me in the locker room after soccer practice. In big black block letters "New Girl Hooking Up With Soccer Star Troy Cancan" is scrawled across the page. I scan over the article and shake my head in disgust.
"This belongs to the gossip column, not the front page of the school newspaper."
"No it doesn't," the blonde retorts. "It's not gossip if it isn't true."
"But this isn't true. I will never in a million years hook up with that perv," I scowl. "Who wrote this?" I ask. The girl cowards back, blushing sheepishly. I crumble up the newspaper in my hand, getting hotter and hotter by the second.
"I'm gonna ask one more time. Who wrote this?" I hiss. I'm not afraid to hit her if I have to.
"I-I did. Me, Sarah Glibber. But it's not what you think. My brother asked me to write this for the paper to get back at you for rejecting him."
"So what? You follow your brother's orders like a lost puppy?" I spat. Ooh, that came out way more hurtful then I intended. I see tears welling up in the Sarah's crystal blue eyes.
"Listen, my brother is dangerous. I didn't know what he might have done if I didn't do what he said ok?" Then, Sarah runs off to class, not bothering to shut her locker. Great, I'm getting along with the girls perfectly.
As I enter homeroom all eyes are on me, but the pair of blue eyes that are on me makes me want to puke. Troy sits there with his smirk more visible. I take my seat beside him, wishing that a desk would appear out of thin air far away from Troy. Boys and girls turn around in there chairs eyeing us curiously. Boys give Troy a thumbs up and girls throw me glares of pure hate. Just perfect.
"So Auggie, wanna do it again tonight? My folks won't be home till tomorrow afternoon," Troy says smoothly, acting like we were close or something. I get up from my desk and poke my index finger in Troy's chest, slitting my eyes.
"Listen here, playa boy, if I could, I would have a personal body guard keeping you 67 meters away from me. So what makes you think you can talk to me like that? Listen perv, you had no right taking that picture of me in the locker room and don't think I won't get the authorities involved. And in the soccer field, I'll make sure to make the connection of my foot and your 'crowned jewels'. Understand, or do I need to blare it over the intercom?" I can hear Troy gulp down any words he was going to spit out. I gather my books and take a seat next to a girl who looks less intimidating then all the other girls. Her hair is dyed hot pink and is slicked back into a low ponytail, her hair trailing all the way to her waist.
"How girl, you got some guts." She comments, whistling.
"What do us mean? Just telling off that perv will probably be on the daily basis. Get ready for a show in homeroom that would definitely wake you up better then two mugs of pure caffeine." The girl laughs, throwing her head back like an evil witch.
"Emma Likens, head of the cheerleading squad and obsessed with dying my hair," she says introducing herself.
"August Chapman, future head of the soccer team and the murderer of Troy Cancan. Though, I'm pretty sure I'd be labeled as an assassin since the entire school thinks so highly of him." Emma laughs again, this time the sour milk colored beanie she was wearing slipping off, exposing her blonde roots. She quickly tugs the beanie over her head again.
"Hmm, a blonde I see? Why would you want to hide that natural color?" I ask.
"Being skinny, a cheerleader, and perky, I don't want to be labeled as a dumb blonde too. Plus having the perfect boyfriend if that isn't enough." I nod. It seems like Emma really is the perfect teenager with a boyfriend, being the head of the cheerleading squad, having a nice form, and also being nice to everyone she meets, with the exception of Troy. No wonder I saw girls narrowing their eyes at her too, envying her is almost impossible.
⚽️
Befriending Emma was a smart move. After buying my lunch I was looking for somewhere isolated to sit, but Emma was waving me over frantically. I shrugged my shoulders and walked over there and joined her and her cheerleader friends. They all had green and white boys tying back their hair which are the school's colors. I sit next to Emma.
"Guys, this is my new friend August. She's in the soccer team." A girl with a curly brown ponytail at the back of her head drops her fork and it clatters to the ground.
"Did she just say you joined the boys soccer team? But you're not a boy!" The cheerleader stutters. Before I can answer, a small petite blonde pipes up, "Probably pulled a few strings with coach so she could make out with Troy." She rolls her eyes and picks at her food.
"1st of all, its not the boys soccer team. Anybody can join, only boys just tried out. 2nd of all, I would never make out with that jerk if he turned out to be Justin Timberlake. That entire story is fake, that perv just took a picture of me changing in the locker room." I roll my eyes. Seriously, these kids would believe anything. After that, the cheerleaders stopped trying to make conversation with me and chatted amongst themselves about the new perfume fragrances or shoes they've been dying to try on. I just bud out and pick at my food. The lasagna doesn't look very tasteful, so I just get up and try to throw it away. But before I can even make it to the trash can, Troy and his jock friends zoom past, knocking my uneaten lasagna to end up on my white shirt.
"Idiots!" I screech, walking to the other side of the cafeteria to get some napkins. Sadly, the dispenser is empty and I'm left with a shirt covered in noodles and sauce. And I didn't even bring a jacket.
"Here, take my jacket." I turn around to see a boy, ruffled brown hair topping his head. Nice hazel eyes are looking at me warmly, with a goofy lopsided smile on the boy's face. He's not Troy hot, but he is cute. He's not as tall either, only a few centimeters taller than I am. I usually don't take articles of clothing from strangers, but this boy looks kind and his smile so genuine, I can't help but take the jacket from him.
"Thanks. When should I give this back?" I ask.
"After school."
"But I don't know where you live. I don't even know you're phone number." The guy pulls out an orange post-it and scribbles some numbers down. Then he writes his name in the paper.
"I'll pick you up after soccer practice." He winks, then heads back to his own table. Huh, maybe some boys at this school just might have the tiniest bit of class. I head back to my table with the jacket shawling my shoulders. I turn the post-it over and over in my hand. Thomas, is that boy's name.
Once I get to my table I can't help myself, I smile cheekily. I don't know why, I never get this thrilled about a boy unless they think girls have a shot at soccer. Emma asked me repeatedly what I was so happy about, but I just shook my head and kept on grinning.
