Faker Than Barbie

‡Two‡

 Jenny had her sunglasses perched on her nose, her hair pulled back into a ponytail once again. She'd come home wasted, last night, thank God I was better off. After the intense make-out session, we'd made it up to the bedroom upstairs before someone had called the cops. I bet Mystery Man had never seen a girl jump out the window and onto a tree like that.

Unlike most of the students at the University, I was here on a scholarship, and I didn't want to lose that because of a party. Though some of them were 21 or over, most of them were still under the legal age to drink, me being one of them at only 20 years old. Sure I had the money to pay, daddy's money at least, but I wanted to prove to everyone that I wasn't just a pretty face. New York City Ballet was waiting for me.

Unlike Jenny, I didn't particularly try to look good that morning. She'd stuck with the kegs and beers, but I'd had the whole bottle of vodka and then some. So the headache was pounding me like a jackhammer, and I didn't have the energy, nor the care, to wear anything other than tights, sweat pants, and a noodle strap tank top. My hair was in a messy bun and the sunglasses were perched on my nose as I pulled into the building's parking lot.

Jenny waved goodbye and went across the street to her Journalism class. Surprisingly enough she was a pretty good writer, great even, too bad it was hidden behind a mask full of bimbo. I popped two Advil pills before stepping out of the car, my bag at my side.

Even though I felt like shit, I knew I didn't look it. I never did. I looked hot in the "I'm tired don't mess with me look", or so I've been told. So I strutted down the halls, most students looked but didn't say anything. They never did. I walked up to the very far back of the classroom, set down my bag and opened my laptop just as the bell on the clock hit 10 am.

"Ms. Gunn, please remove those sunglasses. I understand you're in college but I still don't appreciate the disrespect." The Professor said. I rolled my eyes but removed them nonetheless, squinting slightly at the bright light of the room.

To be fair, I couldn't see much in the room without the glasses either. None of the faces made sense and I only saw blurbs and blotches, which were all facing me. I ignored them all and began typing out notes as the professor lectured. Halfway through the class, the door opened and my breath hitched as my eyes met with Mystery Man's. He looked at me for a few seconds, straight-faced and uninterested before turning to the Professor.

"Mr. Cage you are not welcome in this class. If you don't show up on time, don't show up at all." The Professor lectured. Mystery Man, walked up to him, placed a hand on his shoulder and whispered something in his ear. When he stepped back the Professor spoke. "Please, take a seat." Mystery Man smirked and started walking up the aisle, eyes locked with mine.

"Hey Lucas, over here!" Both our eyes snapped to Kyle Brooks, as he waved his arm in the air pulling our attention. Lucas looked back at me, a raised brow, but I just shrugged in response. A smirk grew on his lips once more and he sat down next to Kyle.

Kyle Brooks was the president of Alpha Gamma Beta. He was the most popular guy in the school, and only reassured stereotypes when it came to how he acted. Self-centered, Self-absorbed, narcissistic, egotistic and shallow were only some of the names I had for him. He's tried to get in my pants since freshman year, but I told him I actually had standards.

Who was this Lucas Cage, who apparently was popular enough for Kyle Brooks to call his attention, and not be outraged when he didn't receive it? I'll probably google it later. Kyle and Lucas weren't on the same level of seats as me, so I looked down on them, the back of their heads being all I could see, but I wasn't focused on them. Everyone knew how hellbent I was on New York City Ballet. They all knew how school always came first with me, and if they got in the way, they wouldn't make it to the end of the year at this school.