My Clichè Life

My Cliché Life

I never intended on being hated by all the girls. It just happened, I guess. Well, I am an expert at pissing people off. Hm, oh well.

It was Monday morning. A day in school. A day in hell. Makes no difference. I slam a fist on top of my alarm clock, shutting it off. Guess you could say I'm not a morning person. I groan, rolling off my bed. I put on a simple black tee, and some dark gray leggings. I yank a hairbrush through my knotted brown-red hair, then proceed to make my way downstairs, put a piece of toast in the toaster, and sit my butt down. I see a note on the table:

"Hello, darling! It's your mama here. Hope you got up in time. School starts at 7:20! I put some tic tacs in your bag, since you might not have gotten up in time to brush your teeth. Who am I kidding; Of course you didn't! Well, have a nice day, dear! Try not to miss home-room!

Wait a second, did she say... Oh no, school starts in 10 minutes! Well, 12, to be exact. See, I'm an expert at pissing people off. But do you expect me to deal with the fact that there is exactly... Well great, now it's 11 minutes. Thanks for making me argue with you. Jerk. And damn, that woman really does know me! Tic tacs in my bag.... How much does this woman know about me? Too much, I guess. She probably knows I peed in the pool when I was 12... I shudder when I a think about it.
I grab my piece of toast and run like hell out of my house. Since the high school isn't very far away, I can just walk there. Or, like most days, run there.
5 minutes.
4 minutes.
3 minutes.
2 minutes.
I come crashing through the doors, panting and out of breath. I dash over to my locker, shove some things in it, and run over to my home-room. I go inside, out of breath, and just awkwardly stand there as people quietly giggle.
"Well, Ms. Abroseur, it appears you are once again late. Please take a seat." My teacher scolds, looking at me with a disapproving look. Well then, Mr. Last Names guy, I will. I start walking over to my seat, when his booming voices interrupts me. "Oh, and do try to hurry, please." The words rolls off his tongue, as he looks at me with eyes of evil triumph. Why must he do this to me? I trudge on to my seat, misery evident in my face. I plop myself down next to my classmate, Tiffany. Don't get me wrong, Tiffany was a sweet girl, but she just wasn't my type to hang around with all the time.
"Hello, Charity!" Tiffany beams at me, smiling. I fake a smile back and give her a small wave.
"Hey, Tiff."
I organize my things in my knapsack while Tiffany rants on about how her weekend went. She's just so... Cheery. Like, she just told me she fell down 5 times while hiking, but she said it in such a tone you'd be thinking she just won the lottery. This girl confuses me. How can you be happy all the time? I have no idea. The bell rings, signaling for me to go to my first period: French. Doesn't make sense to some people, since I have a French last name. Truth is, I do speak French. My mom just doesn't think it's as good as it should be. Sure, it's not perfect, but that doesn't mean she has to put me through 4 horrible years with... Ughhh.... Mrs. Steward. She was the worst. Like, the worst. And I don't mean worst as in the teacher that gives a lot of homework, I mean the worst. The struggles are very real. Oh well.
I run to my next class to avoid being late. But of course, I have to bump into some preppy girls on the way. I feel as though God hates me. Eh, a lot of people do.
"Well well, if it isn't Miss Money over here. How have you been?"
Just because my name is Charity, doesn't mean you have to freaking make a dumbass name for me.
"Hmm, looks like you're ugly as usual today.
That little bit-
"Where did you get your clothes, the trash can?"
What did you say about me?
"Ew, what horrid hair! Is it seaweed?"
"Look, would you mind shutting the fuck up for me? Thanks." I confidently speak, then turn away on my heel from Diana Reil, the most popular girl at school. She stares at me, mouth wide open. Her friends copy her actions. I slap my hands together in satisfaction. My work here is done.
I tip-toe into my French class, trying to be secrete. The teacher has her back to me, and she is facing the board.
Without looking back, she says, "Bonjour, Ms. Abroseur. Do you have a pass?" She smiles as if she is an angel.
Crap.
"No, I'm sorry, Mrs. Steward. I mean, Madame Steward."
Maybe she won't kill me. I used French, after all.
"Oh...?" I see her angel smile slowly transition into a devil smile.
Oh. Never mind, I'm screwed.
"Do you know how many times you've been late to my class this week, Ms. Abroseur?" She coldly says, staring me down with infuriated eyes.
"Uh, actually, it's Mademoiselle Abroseur..."
"Silence!" Mrs. Steward slams her hands on the table.
"Do not talk back to me, young lady! You should be grateful I haven't sent you to the principals yet. I am one of the kindest teachers you will ever meet!"
"I cannot believe you just said that..." I mutter.
"So, because of your tardiness, I am assigning you to do the first worksheet of each chapter."
I gasp, suddenly furious. "But that's not fair, Mrs. Steward! I can't help it that I'm slow! I'm just not athletic!" I exclaim.
"Well, if you have the luxury of walking slow, you must also have the luxury to complete your work." Mrs. Steward evilly smiles, success in her view.
"But, Mrs. Stew-"
She interrupts me, "Tsk tsk tsk. That's Madame Steward to you."
Wow, ok. Now that was just uncool.
I stand there for a few seconds before I angrily stomp my foot on the ground, walk over to my desk, and bury my face I'm my arms. This is gonna be a looooooooooooong day.

Lunch

Yes, it's finally lunch! Hell yeah! I walk over to my table, and start eating my food.
"Hey, you're Charity, right?" A male voice asks, startling me.
I swear to god, if this guy is a friend of Diana...
"Uh, hi. Yeah, I'm Charity."
I turned around to meet a boy with a friendly smile on his face.
I quickly check around me to make sure the lil bitch isn't near. "Are you friends with Diana?" I whisper, leaning in a little closer. He looks at me in surprise.
"What, no I'm not! I'd never be friends with a prick like her!" Suddenly, he bursts out in a fit of laughter. I feel my cheeks get hotter.
"Of all the things you could have asked me, was 'what's your name?' not one of them?"
"No, it wasn't. I was wondering how you knew my name."
Ooh, nice burn, Charity.
I see him widen his eyes in shock, but slowly settle into a smile. He sits down next to me.
"I know your name because you are in my French class, Ms. Abroseur."
I laugh, and lightly punch his arm. "That's mademoiselle to you, mister!"
After we finish laughing, he turns to face me.
"I'm Shawn, by the way. Shawn Dennis."
"I'm Charity Abroseur, but it appears you already know that."
We exchange smiles, and it feels nice to have someone sit next to me at lunch. It made me feel more at ease.
"So, why did you decide to come and talk to me?"
Great job, Charity. Way to push away the one person who talks to you.
He simply smiles. "I just wanted to get to know you, that's all."
"Ah."
"Yep."
"..."
"..."
"Awkward silence..." I whisper, and burst out laughing.

Looks like this day wasn't that bad after all.

Welcome to my cliché life

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Hello! This is the first chapter of "My Cliché Life"
Hope you enjoyed!