My Little Friends

Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or any of its characters.

Stellenbosch University. That is my dream. My only dream. I have one more exam to take, and that exam is the one the university will be looking at. The mid-year exam of grade 11. It is not good enough to get great marks. I have to do perfect. That is why every single one of my days are scheduled: from getting up, going to school, each of my study sessions for every day, right up until the amount of 'free time' I have in order for my brain to rest before moving on to the following subject. During my free time, I watch a single episode of my all-time favourite TV shows: Naruto. 

South Africa is ready for a white, female president. My name is Lila Ivan, and I am ready to take that responsibility. I mean absolutely no offense toward the other races in the country, except that it is time they step aside. They are good with a lot of things, but running a country is not one of them.

As I sit in my parents' car, on my way home from school, I think about the following twenty years. Education is priority. I will get a Doctorate, marry Justin, run the country and make it a better place.

Justin is King Popular at Strand High School. He is every bit the cliche you see in movies. Blonde hair, blue eyes, perfect body, captain of three different sports and, on top of it all, ridiculously rich. That is why he would be perfect for my image. 

As for me, on the other hand...

I am not ugly. I know that. I just freak people out because I'm something between a nerd and a plastic. I get perfect grades even though I am pretty good looking. Brown, waist-length hair, green eyes, considerable fashion sense and good curves. On the inside, I am full of myself. On the outside, not so much. I don't exactly have a lot of friends. I don't know, I just ... I keep to myself.

Alex is my only friend, really.

Well, he's Asian. One of those super-smart, learn-a-language-in-a-month sorts. Alex is just his English name, because people make fun of him because of the real one.

Back to the car.

We go past the lake in front of the school, right up until Lourensrivier street, take a right, and head home to our double storey, yellowish house in Grey street. Well, the house is divided into three flats. We live on the second floor.

"Your mother will be home a little late," he tells me as we pull into the driveway. "So you can make your own food."

"Such a surprise," I say sarcastically, getting out.

The moment Dad drops me off, he heads back to work. I don't even try to keep track with what he does anymore. He dabbles in about a hundred different things each year. He's like Bob the Butler: he's taken to buying Job Mail once every two weeks and applying to each job.

As I start taking out my school books to get started on revising for Biology, I notice something in the corner of my eye. I have a sink in my bedroom, with a mirror hanging above it. And for a moment, just a short moment, the mirror seemed to move.