Author's Note: Hey guys! I've been feeling really bad that I haven't updated in awhile, but I have winter vacation in 26 days (FREEDOM!) so I'll be doing mass uploads during my break. Anyways, I love you all! Enjoy!
I don't give a damn 'bout my reputation, you're living in the past it's a new generation,
A perfect start to another dreary, dull, annoying day at Richmond High School. I always like to turn on the radio on the ride to school. I put my keys in the ignition and start the car. I pull out of my driveway and begin to drive past the dull cliche that is my suburban neighborhood. Same three-story, Victorian-style houses, with perfectly green lawns, and perfectly polished cars, and perfectly perfect housewives waving goodbye to their perfectly perfect husbands on their morning commute. How perfectly perfect.
A girl can do what she wants to do, and that's what I'm gonna do,
At this point, I'm at the end of the block. It's then that I see him. Yes. Surprise, surprise, I actually have a crush on someone. Yes, me with my leather jacket, and obsession with motorcycle boots and classic rock. As I drive by, I contemplate asking him if he needs a ride. By the time I've finally mustered up the courage to ask him, he's already crossing the street and I've missed my chance.
An' I don't give a damn ' bout my bad reputation
I complete the drive to school in silence. When I get there, I face my first accomplishment of the day - walking past the cliques. You've got the jocks, the preps, the athletic ones, the wannabees who only listen to bubblegum pop, the populars, the punks, and the rebels. I, thankfully, fall into the last categories, punks and rebels. I'm more rebel than punk, however. Unfortunately, the boy of my dreams, River Phoenix, is what you would call an "unattainable rebel". Unattainable, unavailable. I successfully walk past each of the cliques without making eye contact. I find my group of friends and we all talk for awhile until the bell rings. I make my way to first period when suddenly, I trip and fall over something. A designer handbag. Those little prep brats. They always think they're soooo funny. I sit up and gather my book, when a masculine looking hand passed me the book I'd been reading. "A Collection of Poems by Edgar Allan Poe? Nice." said a husky voice. I slowly gazed up to meet the cerulean colored eyes of River Phoenix. "Thanks." I muttered shyly. "You're (y/n), right?" "Yeah." "Cool. Listen, a group of my friends were going to go to the city Friday to catch a movie. You in?" "Sure." "Great, see you then.". As he walked away, I felt my heart melt like a popsicle.
