Refusing to be Popular (previously "Addie")

Introduction

Refusing to be Popular - Introduction

"Hey! I'm home!" I yell, as soon as I step into my house. My long bleachy blonde hair sways as I turn to shut the door, and I turn back around to face the foyer area surrounding the front door, set my Tiffany and Co teal colored backpack down, slip off my gray Vans, and look around. "Hello?" I ask into the empty house. I stand still and think for a second, standing in my skinny Abercrombie and Fitch jeans, and a Victoria's Secret Pink zip up hoodie - my standard school outfit.

"Addie!" A soft voice calls from up the banister, "Come help me fix this ceiling fan, it literally fell off the ceiling!"

I climb (you could say crawl) up the stairs, two by two. It's probably how I stay in shape, come to think of it. I bet that I look like an angry bear charging up them the way that I do. I giggle to myself, imagining myself as a cute blonde bear with diamond stud earrings and long black eyelashes covered in my favorite mascara, Falsies by Maybelline. My awkward train of thought comes to a stop as I reach the top of the stairs, and I stand up to my full height of 5'7, which isn't too bad of a height considering I'm a Junior at Carlton High School.

"Mom? Where are you even at?" I laugh as I call out to wherever she may be, struggling with the ceiling fan that 'fell off the ceiling, literally'. I love my mom, and she's basically my best friend other than Jess, Andrea, Ali, Becca, and Kristi... I know, I have a lot of best friends. And when I moved here in 7th grade, they let me into their clique and we've been the "it girls" at Carlton ever since. And I bet you're assuming that we're probably all bitchy, standard hot girls that get the standard hot guys that are captain of the Carlton Cougars football team. And yeah, sadly, you're right. And secretly, I hate being a bitch. But that's what comes with being popular.

"Addie! Didn't you just hear me?" My mom says, her voice coming from 3 doors down to the left.

"Sorry Mom! I totally zoned out, what'd you say?" I ask her as I walk into the upstairs gym. I forgot to mention to you, too, that my house is sort of a mansion.. my dad invented some computer plug in extension for Photoshop, and we became rich out of the blue. It was kind of a miracle, and I think thats another reason the popular crowd suddenly accepted me as soon as I moved here when they found out I was: quote quote "loaded" - as the rumors spread around my new school. Jess, the head bitch at Carlton, came up to me and wanted me to sit with them at lunch so they could talk about their shopping trip later. They just kinda merged their lives into mine and we've been inseparable besties for the last 5 years!

"I said, 'I'm in the gym' - and who's with you? Who were you talking to?" Mom says, as I watch her slowly shimmy up a ladder holding the out of control ceiling fan, one of ten others in the spacious workout room that contains a couple treadmills, benches, mats and a bunch of other workout stuff.

"Hahah I must have been talking to myself. Awk. So what's up, need help?" I smile sweetly up at my mom, who's holding onto the fan on the second step of the ladder, giving me a dumbfounded look due to my excessive daydreaming today. "Addelaide Marie Sullivan. Obviously I need help, I'm standing on a shaking ladder holding a two hundred pound ceiling fan while you're just standing there not helping me baby girl!" She rushes to say while struggling under the weight of the fan.

I take large strides towards her and help hold up the ladder, when there's a knock on the door within two seconds of me finally helping with the broken ceiling fan. "I'll get itttt!" I say in a singsong voice. My mom glares at me and then smirks and says, "Better you than me. I'll be waiting here for when you get back." I smile and sarcastically say, "You promise?" as I look back at her standing under the realistic 50 pound weight of the fan. I smirk and swing around and out the door, and jog down one side of the gigantic split staircases to answer the big double doors, and whoever awaits on the other side.

I grab the gold handle, release the trigger that securely locks the door, and pull the door open.

"Hey." A rough, sexy voice says as I start to look up.

And there stands the most gorgeous, sexy, stunning boy I have ever seen in my life.