Nicole had always believed that nice guys finish last. She has always been surrounded by people who thought of nothing, but themselves and their own desires. In retrospect, these environmental factors from her humble upbringings had turned her heart...
"There comes a point when all that pent-up frustration finally boils over. Even the devil quivers when the 'nice guy' decides he's done being nice."
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(Y/N) - (Your Name)
(L/N) - (Last Name)
(F/C) - (Favorite Color)
(E/C) - (Eye Color)
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[Northern-Virginia]
[April 2nd, 2008]
School was well underway, with only two months left in the second semester. The nerds were racing against time to perfect their grades for a shot at their dream colleges, while the jocks were honing their skills, hoping to catch the eye of national sports recruiters. Then there were the ones who didn't really care where they ended up, as long as it wasn't on the street, dead broke.
By now it is common knowledge that Nicole and Jecka casually do everything together on school grounds, occasionally accompanied by (Y/N) (L/N), a young adolescent male beginning his transcendence into adulthood. However, today (Y/N) was in art class watching the world turn slowly outside, he wondered if he could ever make a name for himself on this blue marble called Earth.
He was bored out of his mind, yet one girl kept occupying his thoughts: Jecka Andersson. This Swedish-American preppy woman could dazzle any guy with her charm, yet didn't hesitate to spit fire at anyone who dared to annoy her. It's been well over a year, not having made any advances on her despite being her childhood friend.
His mind was clouded with the image of Jecka again.
Mr. Lorre called out in a cheery tone, "I'll be coming around to see what you've drawn in your free time!" Despite the rumors about his wife's infidelity, he actually seemed like a decent teacher. His enthusiastic use of MySpace was...a bit odd, but at least he took his job seriously. That was more than could be said for most of the teachers at Lake Braddock Secondary, where genuine passion for teaching was hard to come by.
Jeffrey was probably the only one who actually enjoyed this class. Everyone else seemed to be here just to complete their semester schedule. Finally, the art teacher reached (Y/N)'s easel, pulling him from his thoughts. Surprised, (Y/N) looked up. "O-Oh, hey, Mr. Lorre," he stammered, caught off guard, putting a dumb smile on his face. The teacher looked at (Y/N)'s canvas and his eyes sparkled:
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Lorre: "What an interesting style.." He raised an eyebrow. "Is that Jessica Andersson?"
(Y/N): "Yeah, it is.."
Lorre: "But if I recall Jessica harbors more light in skin color.."
(Y/N) muttered, "I didn't have the right colors to match her skin tone, and leaving it blank wasn't an option." He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. Mr. Lorre gave a simple nod of acknowledgment before moving on to check on the other students, leaving (Y/N) alone with his thoughts once more. "I wonder what she's up to.." he pondered silently.
