Ex-Friends (CH. 1 out of 25)

​It was the middle of eleventh grade when I walked down the hallway to AP European History feeling so alone, dreading the fact that I have this class with Hallie, my old ex-friend. She was my best friend since kindergarten and we never left each other's side. Now she hates me. I'm too much of a geek and an outcast for her, so I just tune Hallie out of my head and focus on my studies. Yet I often find myself drifting off in science classes thinking about what happened last summer. She was never like this before. We'd always watch re-runs of our favorite TV shows together discussing everything that's happened so far and also go to Comic Con together. She's changed so much since. I never knew why she changed either, but the next thing I knew is that one day she and the queen bee of the school, Marcy Jones, were walking down the school hall together arm in arm not even taking one glance at me.

​Before all of this happened, we decided to take as many classes as we could together, totaling in three classes: this class, Calculus BC, and, of course, the last just so happened to be PE. Physical Education is the worst class because I have it with Hallie and her preppy, snot-headed friends. They always scold me when I run on the track-and-field but I should be the one scolding them. They don't even run; they put on makeup on the track and complain when someone accidentally bumps into them. When they do run they look like they have a wedge in their shorts, making them the laughingstock of track-and-field. There was this one time when I bumped into her and she complained that I was trying to push her onto the ground. I started to tell her that's not what happened but she used that as a way of me denying everything. I got put in detention for three days because of that and Hallie walked away scot-free.

​When I walked into the classroom, I saw her in the back of the class snickering and whispering foul words in Marcy's ear, probably about me. I take a seat in the corner far away from them and pull out my books for the lesson. While our teacher, Ms. Loraine, was talking, I felt something hit the back of my neck. I pull it off and shriek, discovering that it was a chewed up dripping, cold, wet spitball shot by one of the jocks, Brian O'Mara. I heard Hallie say "good job" to him while Ms. Loraine stopped the lesson and asked if I was okay, I turned around in my seat and replied yes, telling her it was simply something I read in the book. She nodded her short wavy strawberry blonde head and resumed the lesson, oblivious to what really happened.

At the end of class, I quickly gather my books and notebooks then stood up to leave. As I put my backpack on I heard something rip but I assumed it was from someone else, next thing I knew my backpack strap ripped and I went falling. My books, binders, notebooks, everything fell out of my backpack, including my personal journal. It was a locked brown leather notebook containing 100 pages of my personal thoughts and feelings. Embarrassingly, I tried to snatch it but someone with pink nails and manicured feet picked it up. I slowly looked up and found Hallie with my journal in her left hand and a pair of scissors in her right hand. She smirked at me then scattered my books and binders everywhere on the carpet floor.

"Oops, sorry about that Lily-Anne. I can't help you pick it up because I have too much in my hands. I'll just keep ahold of your journal until you give me the rest of today's homework okay?" she said.

Her and her preppy retarded friends left the classroom laughing and trying to open my lock. I grabbed all of my school items in a hurry to try and find Hallie before she saw anything in my journal. I was about to go to her next class until I saw the clock, I had two minutes to get to class. I ran through the empty hall and approached the classroom door just on time. I calmly slid into my seat and prepared my things for the lesson today. Each period is fifty minutes but time rolled on for me because I already got ahead of the class by at least five lessons, so instead I tried to figure out ways to get my journal back from Hallie. Physical Education was next so I planned to get it back then in the women's locker room.

As class ended I walked/ran to P.E. dead-set on stealthily retrieving my journal. Hallie was there with her friends using the shower stalls with their backpacks on the benches far away from them. Now was my chance to get my journal. I tiptoed my way to Hallie's turquoise floral backpack and unzipped it. I listened to see if Hallie came out yet, and when she didn't I continued. I felt the leather cover and was about to grab it until Hallie screamed and stomped towards me with only her white towel on. She called Coach Hemingway to come over here to tell her what happened.

"Coach, Lily-Ann tried to steal my journal!" she complained.

Coach Hemingway considered her statement, then turned to me and asked, "Is that true Lily-Ann?"

"She's lying! Look at her; she still has her hand in my bag."

I looked down and sure enough my hand still was in her bag. I snatched it out and tried to explain to Coach what really happened.

"Enough Lily-Ann. I know you're a good student but the evidence is right there. Come with me right now young lady."

"B-but Coa--."

"No ifs, ands, or buts Lily-Ann, let's go."

Coach Hemingway took me to the detention hall and told the lady to keep me here for two days. Then she took one last look at me, shook her head in disappointment, then left the room without a goodbye. The detention lady looked at me and scoffed, then went to her desk and pulled out a magazine. I knew the rest of today's homework, so I did two copies of each: one for me and one for Hallie. Detention was over as I ran to Hallie's locker and gave her my homework.

"There," I said panting "now can you please give me my journal?"

She thoughtfully looked up, "Mmm, no. Tomorrow I will, okay?"

I was about to protest and probably try to take it again, but she turned around.

"If you think you can try to negotiate, the answer's no. Don't think about pulling that heist off either, or I'll send you straight to the principal's office."

She walked away with her friends as I, dumbfounded and shocked, wondered what she was going to do to my journal.