Unorthodox (BOOK 1)

Chapter 1

~Vesper~

Honestly, I think I deserve an award.

Everyone should get an award whether they got twenty scholarships under their belt or lint in there pocket. Imagine receiving an award for being stupid. It might not be the best but at least you have something to show at the end of the day.

My award should be tall with ebony wood and real gold. My name engraved in cursive at the base. Almost with one hundred pictures with me skinning my teeth holding the trophy. Well, that's actually what I'm doing right now. Minus the trophy.Adding my enemy on my right giving me a cold shoulder. I love the lighting. It amplifies the glistening great minced meat in her hair and the dark mascara streaks from her black eye. Perfect.

Now, I need you to picture this. Setting; principal's office. Two raggedy girls sitting in metal chairs in front of a broad desk. One of the girls is hunched over in the latest clothes this season, adorned in tomato sauce. Her hair is brown (by unnatural causes) with lettuce weaved through her braids. Her cheeks are beautifully blushed in the same dark red sauce. She isn't too happy about her makeover. The other girl however is happy. She is in the same condition, maybe with a little less tomato sauce or designer clothing. Yet, she manages to grin like a fool in hell's pit.

Guess which one I am.

I am the girl grinning triumphantly. The authoritative force does not deter me. Even if she looks at me like if I pulled a pistol on Virgin Mary during labor. The authoritative force is slowly taking in this picture of perfection from behind her desk. It is far from anything she expected. Her sources told her it was a minor incident. This 'minor incident' can get me expelled.

But I smile as if I am victim from Joker's toxic gas.

She talks. "What really did happen here?" The authoritative force looks at me. Not the girl next to me. Me. She wants me to explain. So I tell her.

"I think you already know."
"A food fight," she answers.
"Correct."
"You two started it," continues the authoritative force.
"Incorrect."
"What?" The authoritative force's face twist in confusion.
" I willingly take the credit for the glorious event, miss."
" Incident," she corrects.
" Whatever makes you feel better for not receiving an invitation."

The authoritative force turns to the girl, maybe for an answer. An objection. A reason. Anything.The girl does nothing.

So she prompts her.
"Lorraine? Do you have anything to say?"
Lorraine lifts her head ready to fire her ammo. "A lot."
The authoritative force winces looking at nice black eye meeting her gaze. Quietly, she says, "Are you alright?"
"Do I look alright?"
"Lorraine, how did this start?" The authoritative force ignores the heightened tone.

I wait. I listen to the twisted truth that run like water through an open tap. I don't object. I watch the glistening trophies in the glass cabinet. There must be about fifty or more in that cabinet. As I said before I deserve a trophy. The title: First Person to Stand Up To Lorraine. The title fits. This is an achievement.

The authoritative force dismisses Lorraine to the nurse's office. And being the girl she is, she doesn't leave until she gives me a look that could kill. It says, 'You will pay for this.'

But the authoritative force doesn't let me leave. She looks at me intently with worry."Vesper?"

"Yes,miss?"
"I want to know something."
"Ask away."
The authoritative force sighs."Why, on the first day of spring, you are chucking meatballs at other students?"
"I didn't chuck meatballs at anyone.Except for Lorraine."
"Was she the only victim of your attack?"
"I wouldn't call it victim. I prefer 'participant'."
"Vesper, I am not joking."
"I know."

I watch her shake her head. Beads of sweat trickle down my forehead, even though the air conditioning is on.My fingers knot on my lap, again and again in apprehension. Maybe I'm nervous. Or just tired of staring at paintings on the wall.

"Your grades are falling."
I look up at her face. The lady in front of me seems weary.

Looking like sleep never knocks on her bedroom door.
As if dreams never exist.
But she's here.
Looking at me with strange intensity​; as if to peep into my soul, looking for something to tell her I am worth it. That I am worth looking at.

I know; because I used to stare at the mirror everyday to find it. I never did.

"You were an A student. The quiet one. The one who could answer any question. But you changed. 'A' turned to 'C' then to 'D' and now 'F'. Now.. now," she says struggling to find the words appropriate to describe, "You're different."

I bow my head low.

"Why? Why Vesper?"

I don't respond; I have nothing to say. The authoritative force slightly turns away from me, facing a painting of a tree on the wall. I hear her mutter to herself something I could not hear. But I guess.

"I am disappointed in you."

It doesn't affect me. Not one bit. I am used to it.

"I will be calling your mother about this."
"Tell her I said hi."
"You may go now."
"Always a pleasure, Miss Craig."

I look up at the clock on the mantle piece.

2:45. 15 more minutes until school is over. I was here for almost two hours.

Lifting myself from my chair, I gather my bearings, wiping my sweaty hands on my already grimy shirt.
The same shirt that had a smiling emoji.
That smiled even when Lorraine mocked it , calling it trashy.
No-one disses my shirt.
Hence the meatball.
The meatball that started a food fight.

+#+#+
Ta Da!
Whaddaya think, huh? I hope you liked it and also the cover. I am trying to be as original as possible. I am just like you! I don't know where this story might turn, but my fingers are crossed.

Vesper above!

See ya soon!