detonate (ON HOLD)

Chapter One

B E F O R E

        "this is how to be a heartbreaker,"

        Westwood High School: built in 1956 and very little had been changed in the building since then. I could guarantee that most prisons were in better shape than Westwood. Prisons had better food anyway. The school was built in the middle of nowhere for the farmers that lived in the area. The school was literally surrounded by cornfields. It might not have been a big school, but despite the fact that it was in the middle of nowhere, the little students that the school had were horrible. Graduating classes had 180 students at a maximum. If you couldn't stand the majority of your grade, you were screwed ― like me. Just because I was well liked didn't mean that I liked them back. I mean it sounds kind of bitchy, but you haven't meet the kids in this school. I'm pretty sure the biggest reason that I was such a 'well liked' girl is because I'm a cheerleader. I mean our school basically tells the cheerleaders to act like ladies, but they present us like objects. The uniforms probably couldn't get any shorter or tighter without getting complaints from parents. I was liked in that sense, but there was a few kids who thought I was the biggest bitch that ever walked the Earth. I think it's because I walk down the hallways like I own it. I walk with confidence that I don't actually have, but it intimidates people. Kids used to part like the Red Sea when I walked down the hallway. I wasn't exactly a popular kid when I was younger so I definitely used to my advantage when I got to high school. I loved the feeling of power and respect I got as I entered the building. Underclassmen would stare with their jaws dropped. A smirk played at the corners of my lips. I loved hearing, "oh my gosh, that's Brielle Blue." They loved me, but that was before him. Senior year was supposed to be the greatest year of my life, but life has a funny way of doing things. And even to this day, I'm not sure whether I'm grateful that all of the shit happened in my life happened or if I feel like it's a burden that I'll carry with me to my grave. I still wake up with nightmares of what went down in the walls of that school. It took me years until I was able to even step foot into the lobby. I still waking up screaming and trapped in a constant fear that something like what happened to me will happen to my children. I moved across the country, but you can't escape your past. I learned that later on in my life from someone will always understand me better than I know myself. But for now, I'll continue on with the most brutal year of my life.

        "Take a picture. It'll last longer," I snorted as I walked past a group of gossiping underclassmen.

        They stood huddled together with their hands covering the area between their mouths and the ears of the girl on the other end of the conversation. Their eyes were cold and filled with bitter hatred, but yet, it didn't seem to bother me. In fact, it amused me more than anything else. 

        "What are you? Twelve?" One of them finally scoffed in complete and utter disgust at my self-confidence.

        "Yeah. On a scale of one to ten," I replied coolly as I flipped my long blonde hair over my shoulder. "Now, get out of my way."

        At that point in my life, I basically acted like the queen. I got what I wanted when I wanted it; however, at home, things were practically the polar opposite of they way they were within the brick walls of Westwood High. I was no expert on psychology at that point of my life, but I had always believed that my private life was the main reason I acted the way I did. Some things just take a toll on us in ways that we can't quite explain.