The Revenge Artist will do it for you (On Hold)

The Revenge Artist will do it for you (Prologue)

The Revenge Artist will do it for you

Copyright © 2011 All rights reserved

Prologue

(Avery at age 13)

I was heading to the lunch room when Preston, the most popular guy in school, shoved me to the side like a rag doll.

He narrowed his eyes to thin slits at me. "Move it loser!" he sneered.

I didn't know why he hated me so much but like the coward that I was, I just looked down to the ground and fidgeted with the hem of my over sized t-shirt.

"I'm sorry Preston," I mumbled softly.

"What?" He asked as he cupped his ear with his hand. “I didn’t hear what you said.”

I heaved a sigh and look up. "I said I was sorry."

He smirked. "That's what I thought. Now move."

I stepped to the side and let him through. He bumped my shoulders on purpose making me stumble a bit but I regained my footing. I composed myself and watch him walk away with his friends laughing about. I swore I could hear him say "She's so pathetic. I don't why she exist in this world."

Well, I was wondering why I even existed in this world also.

Preston.

That name alone had my heart accelerated, hammering rapidly inside my rib cage. My palms would go clammy and if it was possible, my knees would buckle like a newborn deer attempting to walk for the first time.

He was after all the school's heartthrob who everybody adored and loved. He had blond hair that reached to his baby blue eyes that I liked to stare forever. He had an infectious laugh, not one of those throaty ones that classified as a chuckle but one that came from his belly. His smile however, was one of a kind. Unfortunately, for a loser like me could never get even a single twitch from his adorable mouth of his.

Yeah I like Preston. But he hates me.

He had every reason though since I am not pretty, weird, had a warped sense of humor, a dork, an outcast, and among other things you can think of me negatively. I had friends. Okay you got me. I only had one friend. Natalie.

We've been friends since we were four and the funny thing when we first met, she punched me in the nose for "stealing" (as she assumed) her barbie doll. I told her I was borrowing it since it was so cute but she insisted that I stole it. It was a never ending argument but when my mom handed us lolipops, that shut us up. Then we argued again.

But we became friends though, much to my surprise.

Speaking of the dork, she was bounding up to me like a hyper kid on red bull. Her curly brunette hair was bouncing up and down and she had on a smile, one you could never help but smile back.

She skidded to a stop and posed like a ghetto gangster. "What up holmes?" she said in a I'm-so-fly-and-you-know-it tone.

I chuckled softly and shook  my head. "You listen too much P.Diddy songs Natalie."

She grinned."You know it. P.Diddy's the bomb."

I rolled my eyes. "Sure you do," I said then added. "Do you even understand what he's rapping about?" I asked.

She shrugged, not caring at all." How should I know? That's why it's called rap. You're not supposed to understand it."

See. I told you there was no point arguing with this girl.