We'll be the stars

Chapter 1

I step out of my car onto the hard concrete of the school car park and look around. 'Meadow Hills High School' the sign is big above the double door entrance, I internally groan, school. The breeze is cooling in the hot summer air and I lift my sunglasses onto my head, my curls being brought back from my face. I look at the outfit I'm wearing and frown, I prefer hoodies. The top is magenta and it's tucked into my white pencil skirt. The skirt ends about mid-thigh and my feet have already started to hurt in the heels I spent most of summer practicing to walk in. They are black with crossing straps that lead up to my ankles and have the classic red sole of a Louboutin. I look good, I guess it masks how I feel. The other students are crowded around in little groups; nerd, popular, emo, geek, stoner, loner and then there's me. I don't fit into a group yet, I sigh at the thought of having to make new friends, fitting into stereotypes. I miss my old friends but I can't go back there. Not after what I did. I shake my head at the memory and push my sunglasses back down so that they cover my eyes and the dark circles, perfectly covered up by foundation and concealer. And then I do the thing I once thought I'd never be strong enough to do. I start moving forwards. Some people ignore me but most stop talking and look me over. I catch pieces of conversations, "Who is she?"

"Man she's hot."

"She looks like a cheerleader"

"Her hair is so nice."

"Are they real Louboutin?"

I smile, these are the good compliments, and they're the ones that make you glad you put the effort in. But all things good must come with bad, "Her skirt is too short."

"I bet she's a slag."

"She'll be another one of Casey's bitches."

I lift my chin up, convincing myself that I don't care. My lips pull into a self-confident smirk and I know that my Chanel lip gloss is shimmering in the sun. I once again lift up my sunglasses and wink at a drooling boy as I go past. All his friends make noises and catcall but I ignore them, push open the double doors and walk into my version of hell.

Student services, I discovered was a small room off to the left of the main entrance hall. I walk into the room and wrinkle my nose at the stale smell, it's antiseptic. The walls are painted white and there are signs on the wall:

'Be safe, Use protection!'

'Chlamydia – it's hard to spell, easy to catch!' I furrow my eyebrows and glance at the numerous filing cabinets, noticing all the allergy notices on one of the drawers. I pity the girl who is allergic to chocolate. The woman behind the desk at student services is middle aged with greying brown hair and dull eyes. Her make up is overdone and she has lipstick in her teeth, her neck scarf is strategically hiding a hickey. She looks bored and I can see her eyelids drooping as I hand her my papers. "Name." she asks, her voice is scratchy and I can tell that she has a hangover; great.

"Isabella Cole." I reply sweetly, letting my glossed lips tilt upwards into a soft smile. She doesn't smile back.

"Here's your class schedule and locker key, I hope you enjoy Meadow Hills High School." The lady says with more than a hint of boredom in her voice. I tilt my head at her and blink innocently as my manicured hands take the paper and key, "Thank you Mrs..." I look at her name tag, "...Watson." I finish and flashed another smile before opening the door and walking out of the stuffy room. I step out into the crowded corridor and let out the breath I didn't realise I'd been holding in. I smooth down the invisible creases on my skirt and take my sunglasses off my head, putting them in one of the compartments of my Gucci tote bag. Lifting my head I realise that some people are looking at me, I smile and curl a strand of my golden hair around my index finger, wanting to make a good impression. People stop looking and I am suddenly invisible once again. Everyone goes silent, I turn my head trying to see why and a boy next to me lets out an audible squeak. The Populars have arrived.