The Fighter

Chapter one

I woke up in the morning to the sound of my annoying alarm of mine and I was more than ready to fall back asleep. But I knew I couldn't do that. When has life ever been that fair? I groaned as I let my hands roam around my nightstand, searching for my alarm clock. Yes, I have an alarm clock rather than putting an alarm in my phone. It's annoyingly loud noise always did the trick of waking me up. I guess, the alarm clock was a little too far away from the bed so when I stretched my maximum, I fell off the bed.

Great! Exactly what I needed!

Getting up off the ground, I rubbed my head while I walked into the bathroom. I quickly brushed my teeth and took a shower before slipping back into my room.

I pulled out a plain black top and skinny jeans to match it. Once I was dressed, I brushed my hair and threw it in a bun, allowing a few strands to fall out of it.

Once I was fully dressed and ready to leave, I took a final look at myself in the mirror. The girl who the mirror reflected, looked like a nerd. Her eyes had bags under their skin. I knew I should've finished my homework on time! The sleeves of her top reached up till her elbow. It fit perfectly well. I rolled up my sleeve just a bit to see a blackish blue bruise. I had gotten into a fight with a douche named Nathan. Let's just say that Nathan had anger issues and obviously wasn't close to his mother because he contradicted to the very first rule a mother teaches her son; Do not hit a girl.

Although, come to think of it. It was a pretty stupid rule. If you believe that you're a feminist and believe in equal opportunities, why would you instill the thought of a girl being of the weaker race?

I sighed and put on my glasses, clearing my thoughts. Like every other stereotypical nerd, even I had to have glasses. They were fake though. My eye sight was as sharp as a hawk. Then, why would I wear glasses, one would ask. My answer was simple; we live in a world ruled by stereotypes. Now, I didn't not believe that every cheerleader was a bitch, that every popular dude was an ass or that every nerd – or those who score really well because of their hard work – wore glasses. But I needed to convince my case, of being a nerd. If I was seen as one, no one could ever figure out my secret.

I picked up my school bag and headed downstairs into my kitchen. Dad sat on the chair of the table, reading his newspaper with coffee in his hand. "Morning sunshine." He smiled at me.

"Morning." I greeted and bit the apple that was in the fruit bowl. "Bye dad." I headed towards the door but dad had other plans for me.

"Can I ask why you're wearing glasses?"

"Daddy...." I sighed in frustration. I was sick of this argument. It was the same story every day. "Dad, I don't need people getting to know that I'm a street fighter, okay? I put on these as a cover. Now goodbye." Without waiting for a reply, I quickly ran to my car and drove to school.

My school was pretty big. There were three buildings and each of them had three floors.

I reached my locker and opened it, dumping my things in it. Ugh! I'll arrange and clean my locker up later. I pulled out my history book as that was the first class of mine. I felt a tap on my shoulder as I was closing my locker. I turned around to come face to face with Charlotte. She's our school head cheerleader. And for some reason, she was a bitch. I took a step back as she was almost standing on me. "Well, well, well.... look who we have here. A nerd named Shelly." I looked down at the ground, while gritting my teeth to keep any insults leaving from my mouth. I hated Charlotte. But, I couldn't have her know my secret.

"Aw.... look, she's scared!" Lucy laughed as I bit my tongue to refrain myself to give her a comeback.

"Char, the principle's coming." Bridget said. Charlotte stepped back and gave me a glare.