I swing my backpack over my shoulder. First day of high school. Just great. I already know how all this is going to turn out. I'm going to be that one loser kid that gets bullied and slammed into lockers. My step bother warned me about high school but then again what does he know? He dropped out because he couldn't handle it. Actually, he might have been kicked out for being the pervert he is.
Hello to every one reading this. My name is Payton and I am what you would call, your average high school loser. There are two things you should know about me first:
I have never kissed anyone. Of course, other people, like my brother Trevor, have tried to kiss me, but that doesn't count.
I am adopted.
My life at home is different than other people's.
Yeah I know, those are not exactly the things you want to know when meeting someone, but I am who I am so deal with it. Also, I am not the most friendly person. In fact, I am one of those people you would look at and say, "I don't want to be her friend."
I don't look like your average rich white girl; blonde hair, blue eyes with Uggs, Vera Bradley, iPhones, and so on.
I have tan skin, not too dark, but definitely darker than the rest of the girls in my grade. My hair is the color of dark chocolate with a few blonde streaks added in by the sun. My features aren't ugly, but they aren't exactly beautiful. I have a sort of long nose with hazel eyes. Light brown freckles cover my cheeks and my nose. My cheek bones are high and prominent and my eyelashes are black and long. I'm not very tall, but I have been told that I have the body of a model because my legs are skinny and lengthy.
I already know I'm not going to like high school, but if I want to get the hell out of this pathetic town, I need to do well. I woke up an hour earlier than normal girls to prepare for this day; my first day of high school. I'm not like most girls, I don't spend hours on my makeup and hair. I don't even wear make up, because I'm not insecure about my looks. I don't need to add a bunch of crap to my face to make me feel good about myself. I know I'm ugly so what good would make up do? I only woke up an hour early so I would have time get my supplies ready. I showered, brushed my long curls out, and put on a simple outfit. I know, I know; on the first day you are supposed to wear a good outfit to impress everyone and I guess you could say that my outfit was decent, but not compared to the other girls at school who will be wearing skin tight dresses with high heels.
I put on tight dark blue jeans that hug my "model legs" and a pale pink tank top with large sleeve holes that reveal a little skin. I laced up my cheap combat boots and stuck a bow in my hair.
Once I was satisfied with my lame outfit, I went to my local coffee shop to grab a donut and coffee with the money I earned from my job. I tried my best to leave before Trevor, my step brother, woke up. Trevor isn't exactly the sweetest morning person and neither are my parents. In fact, none of them are ever sweet, but I'm used to it by now. I have spent nine years in that hellish house.
--
My locker is really far away from my classes so I have to be sure to rush to school everyday. I go over my schedule three times.
"49-17-37," I repeat to myself as I turn the dial on my locker. The door opens with a creaky sound. I lower my back pack and dump my stuff into my new locker. Of course, half of it falls onto the ground, and of course, an adorable boy is there to pick it all up. Just like the movies! Perfect.
"Hey...your stuff fell," He says. His curly brown hair falls into his eyes and he rakes his fingers through it, making it stand up. I already know that he is one of those popular kids.
"Yeah I know," I snap, but as soon as I see the hurt in his green eyes, I take it back. "Sorry, I'm not in the best mood. Thank you for picking my stuff up--"
