Teenage Dirtbag (Lesbian Love Story)

Chapter 1

"Quinn, time to get up, you have to go to school." My mom said from behind my door. It was 6:46, and quite frankly I didn't want to leave my bed anytime soon. School started up again today and my anxiety was so bad I felt like I would explode. Maybe I could epretend to be sick and eat some food then puke it back up.

"Mom school sucks, and the people there suck. Besides, I feel really sick." I sighed.

"Quinnsley Maria Price, you tried to use that same excuse all of last year. Now get up, you can't miss the first day. Oh, and try to stop lying sweetheart." She said and I could hear her walking away from my door. Well, I guess I couldn't argue my way out of this, and I wasn't lying. My anxiety had physical symptoms too and it sucked. With a big sigh, I got up and walked over to my scale. I stripped out of my night clothes and stood on the cold, metal and glass scale with a shiver. I waited a few seconds and looked down at the number I desperately depended on. 142. Disgusting. My goal weight was 103 at least. My mom said I was fine and that "everyone is beautiful" and other bullshit people say to teenage girls, but she was the one that probably spent more money on make up and Botox than food, so what did she know?

I walked over to my closet and pulled out a pair of skinny jeans, a baggy grey sweatshirt, and ballet flats. I had a bunch of cute shirts in my closet, but I wasn't skinny enough to wear them. Not yet. I slipped those on, brushed my hair, put on some lipgloss and concealer, and walked down stairs. "Glad you decided to get up. You want any cereal before you leave?" My mom asked once I got down stairs. I remembered that disgusting number on the scale and shook my head. I wouldn't stuff myself like some sort of savage animal.

"No, I'm going to get to school early and find my bearings." I said, grabbing a flavored water and looking at the clock. It was 7:40 and there was a ten minute drive to school. I had ten minutes to find my locker, orgranize my stuff, grab my books, and head to my first class. Easy enough, I guess. I grabbed my backpack and walked outside to my cherry red mustang. I made a mental not to get it washed soon, it was starting to get dirty. I piled inside, turned on the radio, and started driving.

I made it to school in ten minutes, like usual, and grabbed my stuff. I walked towards the large building that was the bane of my existence, only to come to an abrupt stop with a near panic attack as a motorcycle sped past me. "Watch where the hell you're going! You almost ran me over!" I shouted after them. I watched the motorcyclist pull into a parking space and step off of their bike. Their hands reached up and they took of their helmet, to reveal long black hair, tan skin, and a pretty girl's face "You got a problem?" She asked, looking in my direction. I looked down at my watch to see 7:53 blinking in green numbers. Shit, I was running behind my normal schedule and besides, I really didn't want to get in a fight with this chick. She continued to stare at me but I just shook my head and jogged inside the building and unzipped my bag. I pulled out a piece of paper that had my locker number, combination, and classes on it. I had locker 946. I looked at the nearest locker to me to see the numbers, 453. I sped down the hallway, speed reading locker numbers. 520, 687, 741, 802... Ah! There it was. I switched to the other side of the hallway and stuffed my books inside.

I glanced at my watch, which read 7:58, and looked over the paper to see I had English first. I grabbed my English supplies and walked to the classroom. I sat at the back of the class and recieved a few dirty stares from kids in the front of the room. Great, my day had begun. I watched the door and saw a girl with dark clothes and hair rush in. Our teacher walked in behind her and closed the door. A few seconds later the bell rang and everyone was seated. Our teacher was an elderly woman that introduced herself as Mrs. Robinson, and proceeded to take attendance. "Oh my, before I forget, there is a little note here that says we have a new student with us." Our teacher said and grabbed a paper. "Um, Dal-hiya? Fajardo? Dear, how do you pronounce your name?" She asked, looking out at the class.

The girl I saw rushing in earlier raised her hand up to show she was the new student, "It's pronounced like Daw-leea Fuh-hardo." She said. I recognized that voice. Mrs. Robinson smiled and motioned for Dahlia to come to the front of the class "There you are, dear. Everyone this is Ms. Dahlia Fajardo." She said. The girl turned to face the class and, oh shit, I recognized her.

She had long black hair, tan skin, and a pretty face.

The new girl was the "Son's of Anarchy" chick that almost ran me over in the parking lot.