Obsessed over the Popular - a high school romance diary

1- The obsession

TW: BULLYING
Alyah is your typical highschool mean girl, with her uniform of a tight little top and some flared jeans that rocked the small town old ladies down.
She was a very cold, mean, and overall bitchy person. A spoiled brat with rich parents although emotionally absent.
Her way of coping with something she didn't even understand was partying, drinking, having fun. Her kingdom included the whole highschool, the small house parties which evolved into bigger events after hours and much more.
She was the terror. A merciless bully who pitied no nerd who crossed her way.
And then there was Simon. The stereotypical nerdy, weird, and asocial guy. His chunky glasses made him look even more like an appealing target to bullies, and it was like everyday some football guy hit the bullseye on his back.
Simon was the prime target of Alyah's mocking and she focused her cocky smirk on him every time she saw him alone and defenseless.
But even after all this mocking and bullying he suffered from her, Simon had this weird obsession with Alyah. The type where one stalks and keeps constant eyes on the target. He drew her a lot, in all different kinds of scenarios.
Kind of a deranged version of Stockholm Syndrome.
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One day, Alyah was walking in the halls during lunch break, angrily pacing to class. She had her eyes down on her phone, her eyebrows scrunched together.
The students standing around the halls, leaning against the lockers made a terribly loud noise, something she was feeling overwhelmed about.
She was pissed because she had been talking to this guy and now he didn't answer and she was angry at him for believing he could just ghost her and that she wouldn't go after him.
That wasn't her type of game.
The attention she focused on the phone didn't give her the hability to focus on the path ahead of her and she bumped into someone, hard like a wall.
She fell back with a thud, preparing to yell at the person already. She looked up, and saw Simon in front of her. She looked him up and down with that judgemental gaze she always had.
Simon extended his hand to her, his expression remaining stoic and numb.
"Sorry." he muttered, keeping his hand held out for her to take as he looked down at her.
"Don't even." she started, taking his hand reluctantly as she propped herself up in front of him. She looked down at where she fell and her phone was still down on the floor by her feet.
"Pick it up." she ordered, looking up at him with this cocky and mocking tone and matching expression.
Simon grunted under his breath, annoyed she was making a scene in front of everyone, who was now looking at her.
"I-I'm sorry-"
"Pick. It. Up." she sounded out, pointing down at the phone.
Everyone's heads turned to them, making Alyah's power on him even stronger now that she had the public humiliation factor with her.
Simon hesitated, but bent down to pick the phone up, his face scrunched in an embarrassed and regretful demeanor.
When he came back up, she had crossed her arms in front of her chest, covering the lettering on her top.
"Good boy..."
His cheeks immediately went flush, his fingers tightening around the phone as he tightened his expression and stance.
She mocked him with this, taking the phone from his hand as he pulled his hand away, not wanting to touch her. His skin was pale and cold and she felt it when her finger brushed against it as she snatched her phone back from him.
She smirked, almost taking pleasure from his misery. She inspected the phone in her phone meticulously, checking for even the slightest crack to call him out, but sadly none was found.
She looked back up at him, his eyes almost fearful as she inspected the piece of technology in her small... And cute... Hands.
He got lost in his thoughts staring at her hands. He would definitely use those images later for drawing her.
"It's intact. I guess you got lucky."
She stuffed the phone in her back pocket and crossed her arms again, looking up at him as she poked her tongue into her cheek.
"Apologize again."
She blurted out, as a sense of overwhelming power taking over her.
Simon on the other hand was terribly embarrassed, and feeling overall shitty but weirdly attracted. Like always.
Simon's right eye was twitching slightly, and his arms fell by his side tightly against his body, his fists clenched equally tight.
"I-I'm sorry Aly-"
She cut him off, lifting her hand in front of him.
"I don't want my name in your mouth. Cut that off your apology."
She demanded, and his mouth opened and closed so quickly she couldn't detect it. The hesitation, although visible, was far from comprehended.
She thought he was nervous because she was making a fool out of him but deep down... He was nervous because she was actually making eye contact with him, and she never made eye contact with him.
It was, to Simon, a big step in the right direction. Maybe she was warming up to him?
That's what he wanted to think.
Alyah kept her eyes on him, lips closed in a line, as she waited for his apology.
"I-I'm sorry," his voice was all raspy and he stuttered, which was almost an aphrodisiac to bullies.
Easy target.
Alyah sighed contently, and let her arms fall by her side. Her lips soon let go of the cold expression and changed into a cocky smirk.
Her work was done with this one for now.
She turned around and walked away, almost proud she managesld to make his life miserable.
Simon eyes clung to her, all of her, real creepy. He focused on getting references for his drawings, his most precious proof she interacted with him.
The way she walked, the way the tops she always wore looked on her, the way her hands moved around...
It was like a proof of heaven to him.
The crowd that had settled in the hallways around them had vanished, only the faint whispers and quick paced steps would show they were actually there now.
Simon's mind clouded all that, just to focus on her walking away. She was like a disease, and boy did it infect Simon.
He couldn't even imagine her touching him, or talking to him sweetly, but in his mind, in his dreams, she did all that and more.
He started walking and clinging to the little black notebook in his pocket.
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1113 words
Have fun reading this, just as much as I had fun writing it.

---------- Forwarded message ---------
De: Mafalda Bento <>
Date: segunda, 11/03/2024, 4:39 da tarde
Subject:
To: <>