His Badass Juliet

Chapter1 Let Me Show You Who The Real B*tch Is.

Chapter1 Let Me Show You Who The Real B*tch Is.

[e d i t e d]

____Ashley's POV____

(10th grade)

I walked down the school hallway, still not getting used to the stares and dirty looks.

It was amazing how people treated you differently when fate had its own change of plans. Atleast that's what I've learnt in the past two months. My life has been nothing but a bumpy roller-coaster ride. I no longer remembered who I am or the girl I used to be. It was all too much to handle.

"Gosh, here comes the slut." I heard someone whisper.

"I don't get why she does such stuff. I mean, just a couple of weeks back she was normal and look at her now...." someone else spoke, trying to keep her voice low.

I kept walking, my nose high up in the sky as I tried to ignore them. My heels made these obnoxious noises with each step I took. But that's the reason I liked to wear them at school; they kinda blocked out the hushed whispers to some extent.

"Damn, that chick is hot." A guy was talking to his friend.

"Yeah, but I heard she's f*cked up after her family-" he got cut off as I looked in his direction, my icy gaze burnt holes in his head as he swallowed audibly.

"You wanna say that to my face d*ickhead?" I glared at him.

His friend whispered something in his ear and dragged him away. I watched the losers scurry out of my sight and continued my walk to the cafeteria.

Today was very important. I was going to get my revenge.

I opened the doors of the canteen, only to be greeted by stares, whistles and drooled faces. I rolled my eyes, which made me look like a scary raccoon but that wasn't the reason why I wore the eyeliner like that.

I just wanted to hide the dark circles from numerous sleepless nights and the pain behind them.

Nobody cared about what I was going through, so maybe that dumb makeup trick did work actually.

My breath hitched as I found a pair of hands wrapping themselves around my waist from behind. I spun around and my eyes met his blue ones. They were a deep, dark blue, shining as he looked at me.

Pretty right?

No, not really.

I faked a smile, tugging my boyfriend to the huge table in the centre, which was the outcome of my newly acquired social status. We sat down next to each other like the other sappy couples and he wound one arm around my shoulder, showing me off to his jock buddies and their dumba*s bimbo girlfriends.

"I missed you," he spoke into my ear, his face brushing against my blonde hair. I resisted the urge to kill him with a machine gun and just grinned back in response.

Confused?

Well you ought to be. My life recently was worse than a melodramatic soap opera, so maybe a little explanation was needed. No, scratch that, a heck lot of explanation was needed.

I hated him. I hated my boyfriend to such an extent that I would do anything to make his life a living hell.

Which would be nothing compared to what he did to me.

He ruined my f*cking life.

I don't know why he asked me out in the first place. If he had brains, he'd know that I was boiling with rage, that he should stay away from me if he didn't want his name to be among the dead. But then after all the bad stuff he did to me, he goes and asks me to be his girlfriend.