bare | 18+

1. Fair Skin and Jet-Black Hair

My father is dead, and I'm officially an orphan.

I wouldn't say I'm heartless, but I can't see myself grieving the way my stepmother did. I can't bring myself to care at all. I watched the way people wept as Mark Valentino was lowered into the ground, and the emptiness I felt ate me up inside.

I didn't hate the man, but there were numerous occasions where I wished he wasn't my father. Now that he's gone, I don't necessarily regret the way I felt then; I just don't want to be alone.

Our fights always consisted of screaming and yelling, and he'd always be the first to apologize by purchasing flashy, expensive gifts and handing them to the maid to give to me. I wasn't petty, and these gifts were all things I fancied so I wasn't going to ignore them. However, I'd rather have no gifts than have my father do something as shallow as that.

I am two weeks into my last year at Lakewood Academy and I already look forward to being tucked under my blankets with a containerful of ice cream the moment I step outside.

The worst part about being a teenager and attending high school was being surrounded by people who were so bored with their lives that all they could do was obsess over others. Everyone, including the new freshmen, was still talking about the embarrassing thing that was my breakup with Nicholas. People murmured to each other as I walked down the hallway, it was quite ridiculous. On top of that, everyone just wouldn't stop pestering me about my father.

Senior year me knew that my change was for the better. I thought that I was on top of the entire world. Everyone did too, and I know it only worked because I was quite honestly a bitch. I often got away with so much since Daddy dearest offered Lakewood Academy pointless donations for appearances and reputation. As for now? I wouldn't get away with skipping classes and being rude to teachers for no reason.

If someone told me that I'd become the outcast I am now in my junior year, I'd probably laugh in their face.

Looking back, it was just embarrassing and served as another reason why I dreaded going to school.

But school wasn't a choice, especially when I've made it so far.

Every school morning, I put on the same basic uniform. My blue plaid pleated skirt and ironed white button-up. I tuck in my shirt before rolling up the waist of my skirt. I hate putting on the stupid matching tie but I do it anyway and cover my uniform with a sweater.

My long legs are in black knee-high socks and my feet are in a pair of Prada loafers. Sometimes I switch them out for Oxfords or Mary Janes.

Afterward, I spend a little time putting on some mascara and lip gloss, a little blush, and concealer. Today, I opted for a little product in my curls instead of my usual slicked-back bun. My school tote was as light as a feather, as I barely carried anything in it. Just a pen, water bottle, laptop, and some girl essentials. Sometimes, I carry a book with me.

It's September and orange leaves already littered the sidewalks. It's only a matter of time before the mornings start getting darker. I didn't feel like taking a walk to school, so I called up Ciara who would gladly drive me to school.

"Hurry up bitch!" I laugh as I awkwardly rush towards my friend's black Audi.

"Did you eat?" I shake my head once I get in the car. It was a bad habit I picked up in middle school. I'd spend half of my mornings in bed on my phone without any time to do anything, hence why I didn't have time to do my hair. Ciara audibly sighs, and I roll my eyes. I always responded "No," but appreciated Ciara asking every car ride before school. "I got your favorite scones!" she exclaims, and I nearly jump out of my seat in excitement. "God, I love you."

***

This year is as uninteresting as the previous, perhaps even worse. The teachers look different but all act the same. As for the students, they are just the same faces I've been staring at since elementary school. Nothing fun about that.

The teacher needed to remember names, so she gave everyone assigned seats. I was a row before last and to the right of a window. I loved leaning against that wall and looking out its window. So when I walked into the third period to find someone in my seat, I was confused and irritated.

He had to be new. With the way he looked, there was no doubt he'd be popular amongst everyone. Fair skin and jet-black hair. Would it be dramatic if I said he was perfect? Because he truly was.

He also seemed very unapproachable. Instead of making a fuss about my window seat, I sat in the seat next to him. It's already been a while, there's no way the teacher still needed the assigned seats.

The summers ended early, and fall was always quick to follow behind. The sun rarely shines this time of the year. Instead, it was the rain that smacked roofs and windows every so often. I preferred to listen and watch the way it hit the glass instead of paying attention to whatever the teacher had to say.

Now? I could watch something new.

For once in my life, I set my preference for older men aside and paid attention to the teenage boy in my window seat. Every few minutes or so, I'd think about whether or not it was a good time to catch a glimpse of his beautiful face. It was quite ridiculous the way I was acting.

I should just stop.

He walks in later than he usually does. As if on instinct, my attention shifts to the doorway. It was as if I knew every time he was about to walk through that stupid door. It's hard to explain, but it's like I could feel him and his presence in the atmosphere.

I'm curled up in my original seat, listening to music and mindlessly scrolling through social media. Maybe I was kind of petty, but technically, it was assigned to me. So I took it back and hopefully, he doesn't mind.