Prom Queen ⚢ [EDITING]

↻ ◁ twelve ▷ ↺

"her booty has its own zip code"

Who could have imagined Graham Hart was such a horrible person deep, deep down beneath those sickly sweet brown eyes?

I knew he wasn't perfect; he was just another teenage boy, after all. Girls had always fawned over him just because he wore gray sweatpants and tossed a ball around, hardly because of his personality or mediocre looks. Sure, he was conventionally attractive, but he was just the same as every other guy at our school. Brown hair, brown eyes, tall, fit—it was all so mundane to me. To others, though, his features were heaven-sent.

Still, being attractive never gave anyone the right to be a raging douchebag.

"Ivy Mora," a familiar voice called out as I turned toward my first class. I was beginning to feel sick of my full name, the way people used it to address me like I was some legend.

I was a normal person; maybe not average, but normal. Yet somehow, my name was like gold to my peers. Being able to call me a friend, it was a form of currency to these people, a form of power. I was just another eighteen-year-old girl finishing up my senior year of high school like the rest of them; why was I any more special?

I knew I didn't deserve it—the title of "queen bee," the starstruck looks I received as I passed everyone in the halls. I had no talents stashed under my belt to make myself any more appealing than an average student. No musical ability, no real athleticism, nothing even remotely special about me.

Everything I had, I had it because I was pretty.

"Ivy!" they whisper-yelled again as I finally snapped out of my inner thoughts and back to the real world. Ingrid's eyebrows were drawn so low on their face, I was afraid they'd fall off.

"I heard about your little incident with Graham by the lockers," they complained, daggers stabbing every inch of my face from their dangerous darkened eyes. "What the hell, dude?"

"He was being a dick to Camryn," I simply explained.

"So you slap the guy?"

"Trust me, he deserved it."

"Ivy," they repeated my name slower, placing a cautious hand on my shoulder. "I don't know how you really feel about Camryn, but you shouldn't be getting in the middle of their relationship."

My eyes moved to make steady contact with theirs.

"You're only going to end up getting hurt," they finished before heading through the door.

You're only going to end up getting hurt.

We'll see about that.

It was always funny to me just how accurate that saying was: you always want what you can't have. I mean, was it stupid of me to crave Camryn's attention knowing she hated me? Surely not after she admitted to wanting to have sex with me, right? I know I wasn't being as delusional as my friends all seemed to think.