Vanity Teens

Chapter One

NEW A.N. This was my first story on Wattpad, so please don't let it form your opinion fully of me as a writer. It's flawed, and I'll probably get around to editing it one day, just not today lmao. So basically, I hope you take it with a pinch of salt.

I was 16 when I started writing it: too sassy for my own good, probably an idiot, I had very little skill or even an idea of what being in a relationship was like, so all I ask is that if you see an unhealthy or badly expressed opinion or linguistic/writing mistakes, or just trashy and cliched plots, just understand the state of being that I was in when I wrote it. There's a lot of offensive humour in here too that is poorly written. I'm still an offensive person but I've honed the art to be more respectful since. Thank you, and enjoy the story. Xoxo, Clay.

Chapter One:  

"Ariel?" The voice was annoying, if anything. A persistent ringing in my ears that I just couldn't handle anymore. The bitch had obviously done it on purpose. I hated new teachers, they just didn't have a clue.

"Is she here?" the teacher asked again, her chirping voice ringing in my ear like chalk being slowly scraped over a whiteboard.

I cringed. So embarrassing, I thought, hiding behind my worn copy of Romeo & Juliet. Personally, I hated the book. The only thing half-decent about it was the ending.

"There she is," someone announced wildly, giggling and chuckling at themselves. I knew fingers and eyes were pointing right at me, and not just because of my otherworldly beauty. I took a peak through the edge of my tatty old book, and sighed. Life was just a big, sore kick in the arse.

"Ariel?" the teacher asked. Her confused eyes followed the flair of flailing fingers, and the light bulb struck. "Oh!" she finally realised. "You're a boy... well, never mind that."

I slowly fell deeper into my seat, avoiding the negative attention. I should have been used to all of the girl's name jokes by now, but I mind-numbingly wasn't, and God knows why. Every time I was called a girl, or a mermaid, it hurt. First lesson of the school year, and I've made a fucking wonderful impression.

Ariel. Great. Fuck off, please, saggy bitch. I mean, really? Her boobs sagged so much she could pour them into a cup, or throw them over her shoulder like a fabulous queen, such as myself, would throw a handbag. But it didn't matter to me what she did with them as long as they weren't falling in my sandwiches at lunch.

"Okay class, I'm Mrs Montrose, and I'm your new English Literature teacher." No shit, Mrs Montsag. I laughed to myself, probably too loud. All eyes averted back to me, and I couldn't have looked more stunned. What a joy.

"Is something funny, Mr...," she muttered, taking a glance at the register, and then checking again to make sure what she saw wasn't a spelling error, "van... van der Gorz. Gorz? Yes? Is that right?"

"Van der Gorz. And no, nothing's funny." Except your saggy tits. Maybe she should fold them into her skirt to stop them flopping around whenever she moved. Disgusting old bitch.

"A nice name. Is it foreign?" she asked, her soulless and empty eyes piercing right through me from the front of the classroom. I wished I hadn't sat right at the back now, where I could see everyone turning around to look at me. I know I'm beautiful, but am I that beautiful?

The obvious answer is, of course I'm that beautiful. I'm Ariel van der Gorz, bitch. Nice to meet you.

"It's Dutch."

"Dutch? How... pleasant?" she guessed.

"Okay." I hid back behind my frayed Romeo & Juliet once again. For fuck sake.