Opposites Attract?

david tennant

                 

  HAVE I expressed my hatred towards clichés? I guess I haven't. I absolutely despise all forms of clichés especially the high school cliché of blonde bitchy cheerleaders and awkwardly geeky brunettes. Now this sort of stereotyping is the stupidest thing ever, why can't we have bitchy brunettes and awkward blondes?

Entering school, on Connor's bike, I can safely say that ninety percent of the female population of Tribeca High has officially overkilled me in their minds. My phone vibrated silently in my pocket but I ignored it because all eyes were on me. Connor didn't seem fazed at all, he simply shoved his hands in his pockets and walked away from me before messing my hair.

I , on the other hand, looked down on the ground (my old Converse suddenly became the most interesting thing on the planet) and walked towards the doors of Tribeca trying to avoid hearing the whispers of the students and glares.

Apparently Meg and Maxine were already informed about the news because they cornered me at my locker. "Girl what is this I'm hearing about you on Connor's little precious?" Meg asked, leaning her hips against the locker.

"I live with him now." I mumbled grabbing my Chemistry textbook.

Maxine and Meg giggled to themselves. "Oh." They giggled, giving each other flirty eyes.

I looked up and rolled my eyes. "Stop sending each other heart eye emojis, you know Connor and I will never end up together." I said, shutting my locker.

"I'm not the one who went on a road trip with him." Maxine chirped, bumping my hip before she left.

"And I'm not the one who sat on his precious bike." Meg added before walking off. I rolled my eyes yet again, I can't believe people still have the fantasy that Connor and I will end up together. For me, I think he would end up with some pretty badass chick who is as adventurous as him or more, or maybe cheer captain. Not the new girl who is obsessed with books and TV shows and too allergic for flowers and animals.

I shut my locker before walking towards my Homeroom class.

★  ★  ★

In Social Studies, I'm starting to have second thoughts on taking this class because for one, the teacher doesn't do anything but just makes us watch videos of different cultures, write an essay on what we understand and yadda yadda homework stuff.

Instead of that old boring teacher, a young looking female teacher swept in the class. Her honey coloured hair was cut short into a bob that curled right at her chin and she wore a pantsuit, which made her legs run for miles. Some of the boys sat up straighter in their seats and some of us girls also sat up because this was interesting. As the teacher began setting her stuff on the table and writing something on the board, we took this time to whisper to each other. I didn't want to risk my phone getting confiscated, but it so happens that Jason was in this class with me. I scribbled a note and crumpled it into a ball before hitting him in the head.

He gave a small yelp and opened my note before quickly scribbling back a reply. His aim hit me square in the forehead and I gave him a quick glare before the teacher began speaking. "Good morning students," she greeted in a low sultry voice, a voice similar to Lana Del Ray but just more intonated. "I'm Miss Greene but I'd prefer if you all would call me Deidre."

"I'll be your new Social Studies teacher." She continued. "For now, I'm thinking of a very cliché high school project." She said pursing her lips. "Let's start off with scrapbooking. I'll simply read your names off the list here and you'll have to create a scrapbook of each other, as much information and pictures as you want. Take this as a project for thirty percent of your grade."