Death Isn't Always The End

Chapter 7

Today was school again. Yes it is Monday. The day everyone dreads. I got up and headed to the shower. After a good ten minutes I got out of the shower. I wrapped a towel around my body, and one around my hair. I picked out an outfit that consisted of my black leather jacket, a Harley Davidson croptop, Jean shorts, and my combat boots. I added a couple of bangles, a ring, and a necklace. I curled my hair and applied my makeup, which was macara, red lipstick, and Smokey eye eyshadow. I sprinted down the stairs, grabbed a muffin off the table and walked out the door. I got into my Harley and drove to school.

As I pulled into my spot I saw Dean leaning against a tree. Hopping off I walked over to him. "Hey Dean." I greeted.

"Hey Nicole!" he beamed looking up.

"So what do you usually do to survive a week of school here, because last week I barley did." I groaned.

"Well as the bad boy of the school. I usually skip."

"You were in class everyday last week." I said rolling my eyes.

"That's because I had something to keep me in class this time." he stated smirking. I saw something pass in his eyes, but I couldn't tell what it was.

"Interesting." I said. "Well I would love to skip, but I care about my education. I know surprising. So anything else."

"Pretend your learning the most interesting thing in the world." he shrugged. I snorted.

"How helpful." The bell rang signaling school was starting. I parted from Dean to go to my locker. I opened up the door and stuffed my morning books into my bag, while exchanging it with the ones I had homework in. I walked into first hour and the bell rang right after. I sat down next to Dean and our lesson started.

Throughout the whole lesson Dean kept poking me, pulling my hair, and pushing me to get my attention. "Dean," I growled low enough that only he could hear it, "if you don't stop being an arse. I am going to cut off your family jewels and shove it up where the sun doesn't shine." You could hear the poison and seriousness in my voice and if looks could kill Dean would be 6ft under.

His mouth dropped open and he quickly sobered up. He left me alone the rest of the hour. The bell rang once again signaling it's over. I sprinted out of my classroom, heading over to second hour.

My morning classes passed by quickly. Soon it was lunch and I was sitting in my usual spot. On the field under the oak tree. I watched the kids in the cafeteria and started to realise something I never wanted to admit.

In books and movies popular girls wear high heels and designer cloths, they are rich and are good-looking. In real life that's not the case. Populares wear the same as eveyone else, converse, Brandy Melville, Free People, Nike and other brands.

They are ugly inside and out and you have the ocational pretty girl, but in reality the only reason they are popular is because they are sluts. They become popular because of the popular boys that are overly hormonal teenagers that us normal people like to call fuck boys. In movies the popular bully the nonpopulars to no end, the two social groups in preditor/prey environment.

Though the popular actually leave them alone and make fun of the nonpopulars behind their back, and let's not forget the middle group who aren't popular but aren't losers. The biggest lie of all is all populars have friends, it may seem that way in public but when alone they all hate each other and are always spreading gossip about each other. In books the bad girl or boy are sexy anti-social mysteries or hot popular players, which usually is true in most cases. This is the truth about life, about high school. And I am a prime example of the bad girl, her past is so messed up, she conceals herself so she cannot be broken. But for me I am not popular, I'm just me. Broken.