unrealistic love || harry styles fanfic

It was the summer of 1959, and I needed a change.

Just finishing 9th grade, I was total loser. My clothes looked like my

mother's, and my glasses gave off a nerdy vibe. I gave no care into what I looked like at all until Max, a greaser, told me I looked like Mrs. Higgins. And Mrs. Higgins is our 54 year old English teacher.

And when I saw Cheryl, one of the most popular greaser girls at Heston High, at the diner, I went for it.

"Cheryl, please help me." I begged.

"I already said no! Now leave me alone loser, you're embarrassing me." She replied as she fluffed her curls, trying to act cool.

"But I want to be different."

"That's cute." She chuckled.

"I'm serious! I want to be like you.

She laughed again. "Honey." She began as she leaned forward. "You couldn't be like me if you tried."

"I just want to be someone that people like. I had no friends last year."

"Oh here comes the tears."

"Cheryl please!"

"Why should I do this for you?!"

"I'll do your homework."

She laughed, and brought her cigarette to her lips.

"For the rest of the year." I added without thinking.

Raising an eyebrow, she squinted her eyes and questioned, "In every class?"

I nodded.

Cheryl stood there for a minute. She was ordering a milkshake at Frosty's Diner when I approached her, and Frosty's is place where all the cool kids hang out. I had only been here once or twice in my whole life, and it felt like a sin to have walked in here looking for help.

After a moment of silence, she said, "Fine. I'll take you under my wing."

I sighed in relief. "Thank you so much Cheryl! Don't worry, you won't regret-"

"Don't get too excited." She interrupted. "What's your name anyway?"

"Carrie. Carrie Witmer."

~

"Look up. I can't do your eyeliner if you don't look up." Cheryl said as she attempted to smooth a black, eyeliner pencil over my waterline. Whatever that is.

"Sorry." I said as I looked up.

We were sitting in her room, which was drowning in pink. There was a pink vanity, bedspread, curtains, and tons of other furniture flooded with different shades of the color.

And lying properly over her chair was a legendary, Pink Ladies jacket.

"You're a Pink Lady?" I asked.

"Why would I not be? The popular greaser girls are Pink Ladies, and the popular greasers are T-Birds. Common sense here."

"Oh."

Let me explain the social hierarchy at Heston High.

There are different groups, and each group is basically equally popular. You can be at the top of the chain in either group though.

There are Jocks of course which consists of any sport player and/or cheerleader. Greasers do not play sports.

There are also Preps who are people that dress very properly everywhere and own a ton of money. Greasers are not rich.

Another group is the Nerds. They're not popular at all compared to us, but they still have a place. All the rest of cliques just take their homework and make them help us study.

And then there are the Greasers, which I is the group I thought I would have success with. The Greasers are just as high as the rest of the group, but they just have a different way of living. I'm not rich, sporty, or smart. This had to be the place where I hoped to belong.

Last, and certainly least, the Nobodies. If you're in the Nobodies, you're basically a Nobody. No one ever notices you. Ever. And that's exactly how Nobodies like it; they don't want anyone to see them. Unfortunately, I was a part of the group in Freshman year. And Cheryl and them cannot I know I was a Nobody, or they'll never help me.

"So what did you used to be?" She asked as she brushed my hair.

I froze. "Um, I was a Jock." I lied. A Jock? Really?!

"Oh. Played a sport?"

"Uh, yeah. Volleyball." I lied again. I've never even touched a volleyball!

"That's funny, I have never met you before this."

"Well Heston is pretty big."

"Yeah. Were you good?"

"Oh, uh, yeah. I was actually co-captain last year." I stated. What the heck?

"Wow. You left all of your Jock status to be a Greaser? You're more devoted than I thought Carrie." Cheryl said. That was the first time Cheryl had said my name, and it felt great.

"Yeah." I don't think I've ever lied so much in 30 seconds.

"So are you ready to see yourself?" Cheryl asked showing a small grin.

"Is my face completely caked with makeup?" I asked, feeling scared.

"No, it looks pretty natural."

"Okay. I'm ready." I said.

When Cheryl turned me to look in the mirror, my heart stopped. I looked like a movie star.

My blonde hair was completely straight except for small waves along the frame of my face. The frizz in my hair was gone. It was completely gone!

My face looked tan, and coral colored brush enlightened my face. Eyeliner and mascara made my blue eyes pop, and my light, pinkish red lipstick made my lips look full.

"Do you like it?" Cheryl asked.

"I love it." I whispered, beaming at myself.

"Good. Do you remember all the steps I taught you into doing all this?"

"Yes."

"Perfect, you can do this every morning then before school."

"But that kind of hurt, and it took forever. How am I supposed to do that every morning?"

Her eyes widened as she put a hand on her hip. "Beauty is pain. If you want to look good, you need to work."

"Alright."

"I'll pick you up tomorrow before school. I have a lot more to teach you."

I gulped.