The Blonde Cheerleader

Chapter One: Stupid Facade

Author's Note: Changed our main character's name to Clara, but other than that, everything's the way they were.

"I'm home," I huffed, practically slamming the door behind me, creating a loud crash somewhere around the house.

"Clara!" I heard my mother scold me loudly, approaching me from the living room. I lifted a brow, crossing my arms over my chest and giving her a smirk.

"What?"

She sighed, finding me completely hopeless.

Well, you don't have much of a right to be like that to me. You were a contributing factor to my current personality.

Who was the one who left dad again because she had an affair with another man? Oh right, you.

And she thought I didn't know a thing.

"Your father has guests," stepfather, I corrected inside my head, "So I would appreciate it if you wouldn't act like that right now."

My smirk widened, "Guests?"

Oh goody, a new way to embarrass the good for nothing man.

"An old friend from college," she explained, "She's in the living room with her two children."

"If they play nice, I will as well," I told her, already creating a scheme inside my head.

She examined my facial expression and released another heavy sigh, "I know you were never happy that it turned out this way."

I tucked my keys into my bag and nodded, "At least you're aware of that fact."

I was testing her patience, and I knew for a fact that she was only bearing with me right now because she saw it.

And by it, I mean the slow changes that happened right after their divorce.

I walked around her and entered the living room, seeing Will – my stepfather – talking to three people whose backs were turned to me.

"There she is," he beamed. Oh who are we kidding? We both know that smile is obviously fake, "This is my daughter, Clara."

"I'm not his daughter," I corrected bluntly, walking to see the faces of these three, "Nice to meet you."

The woman, who I presumed was the one who went to college with Will, gave me a homely smile, "It's a pleasure. Will has told me so much about you."

Like what? How insufferable I am?

My gaze went over to her two kids – one boy and one girl, both who were about my age.

To everybody's surprise, the boy stood up and pointed towards me, "Hey!

Don't you know it's rude to point fingers at people?

"Hey to you too," I said, reaching out and slowly lowering his hand with the tip of my finger, "What's with the sudden shouting?"

"You were the girl earlier at school," he said.

Oh, so he crossed me some time during the day. Now let me see, which was it?

Was it during the lunch line? Or was it in English class? Oh, maybe the one during the morning before classes.

"So you two met already?" his mother questioned, her voice dripping with delight at the fact her son was socializing, "I'm so glad, I was worried because all he did was mope around since we moved and..."

Before she could get too excited, I cut her off quickly by asking the guy, "Who are you again?"

He gaped at this, as if it was ridiculous that I couldn't remember him. You've got to be a little more specific, boy, I get hated by about fifty percent of the school.