Revenge of the Nerd

Chapter 1

Huffing, I dragged the last box out of the moving truck out onto the street. The sun beat down on my back, making me sweat slightly. I fanned my face trying to cool off.

The workers scrambled around trying to move the couches and other heavy furniture. I lent a hand whenever I wasn't carrying boxes to my room.

I walked up the grand spiral staircase, that led up to my room. And by my room, I meant practically my loft. My room was a huge open space, bigger than the size of a living room.

If you hadn't guessed, my family was kind of loaded. My father owned a famous business that was doing very well, and my mother is a well known surgeon who flies all over the world to perform surgeries.

So all in all we were doing pretty well.

I flung Myself onto my big fluffy bed, sighing in content, not wanting to move. I thought about the process that was to happen tomorrow morning to go back to hell. Do I try to keep a low profile again? Do I try to be confident like I was at the school I was just at?

My thought process is stopped when my dad started calling for me. I made an animalistic noise as I flopped onto the floor. I groaned and pushed myself up, my feet scraping across the floor as I was too exhausted to even pick them up.

Yep. That's how lazy I was.

My feet bounced on the staircase and it felt as though it took forever to walk down. I made my way through the mazes of the hallways trying to find my parents.

I found them in the living room, sitting on one of the many couches in there. My father sat on the recliner adjacent to the couch my mother was sprawled out on.

I stifled a laugh. I guess I wasn't the only tired one here. I walked over and plopped down onto the couch with her.

My father looked up from his book and his eyes crinkled when he saw me. He set his book down and poked my mom awake. He chuckled as she didn't wake up.

I laughed as she still laid there, snoring lightly. He rolled his eyes at the sight. I decided to take this opportunity to ask what he called me down for.

"So tomorrow you go back to school," my dad started out saying. I winced when he said that. Not only was summer vacation over, but I had to go back to the place full of bad memories. Right back to the Preparatory Academy.

Where barbies came to life and the rich snobs prayed on the weak.

"I know your memories of being there are not the least bit fond," he hesitated with what he said next. "But will you be okay there?" He asked me with a serious expression.

I took a deep breath, thinking of how to respond to that. I honestly didn't know. The memories of that place still haunted me. The teasing, the looks of disgust, and the snide expressions of my friends when they turned against me. They laughter that summoned when tears pricked in my eyes.

But I wasn't that same girl.

Being gone for a year did really well for me. I wasn't bullied, I had true friends, and I had many boyfriends. I was rebellious in Europe. I built up walls and sarcastic comments. With this being said, it prompted me to give a response that I meant.

I flashed a reassuring smile. "Yes."

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