The Whisper Seekers

Fashion Police

The next morning, I hear a car horn outside my window and as always, Derek's Jeep sits on my driveway right on time. I apply a quick coat of clear lipgloss, pop my lips, and approve of my wardrobe choice for the day. I carefully run down the stairs and out the front door, trying my best not to trip in my tall wedge sandals. I pull at the bottom of my Free People skirt as I make my way down our long driveway to Derek's idling blue Jeep Commander.

"Good morning!" I beam as I yank the door open. My outfit is not the best to have on while hopping in a lifted Jeep, but I still try to gracefully climb inside while Derek's eyes remain on my face. He smiles at me and then reaches over to give me a small peck on the lips.

"Oh gross, your lips are sticky." He grimaces as he smacks his lips, trying to get off my residue.

"At least it's clear today and not hot pink," I shoot back with a flirty smile. He puts his hand on my exposed knee and leaves it there while we drive toward the school.

Derek Atwater is by far the best-looking guy at Highland Park High. He transferred to our high school at the end of our sophomore year and every girl was curious about the new golden hair, green-eyed hottie, including Harper and me. I almost died from excitement when I heard he moved in right down the street from my house. Harper, Lily, and I would casually wander down that way during the summer and it wasn't long before we were all hanging out.

One night while we were all at Lily's house, he pulled me aside and asked me out. This new coupling officially solidified our position as leaders in the social hierarchy. Unfortunately, Harper happened to walk in on our first kiss and her eyes immediately welled up with tears. Even now, our relationship is a sore spot for her and she still tries to flirt with him every opportunity she gets. I know if we were to break up, she'd pounce on his single status. She has no loyalty to me when it comes to cute boys.

His face already looks less boyish than when we first met but his green wide eyes and full lips remain the same. His pretty face comes with a brain I know will get him into any college he decides to go to. He's a trust fund baby and the trust comes with strings attached. He must graduate from a college of his parent's choosing and obtain a full-time job before his trust pays out. My parents adore him and his trust fund. My father has actually already offered him an internship at his company if he stays in Texas for college.

As we pull into the school parking lot, he grabs my hand and I run my eyes down his flattering new polo. I glance at his tight sleeves that pull against his toned arms and blush at his attractiveness. Girls are smart enough not to flirt with Derek, but even when I'm draped over his arm, they still manage to sneak peeks. We strut up to the large glass windows that create a long wall, extending the length to our school's main doorway.

Our cafeteria sits on the other side of the glass, so students are able to stare at everyone walking into the building while seated at the tables inside. It makes every morning feel like a red carpet entrance since most girls eye what other girls are wearing while they strut down the glass hallway.

At our school, labels are everything. We proudly call ourselves label whores. More than half of our student body is the offspring of deep-pocketed parents who got rich off oil generations ago. The other half is rodeo riders and wealthy ranchers with tight wrangler jeans and large gleaming belt buckles. Derek and his posse call the other half "dirts" and they call us "tories". The two masses do not get along. Our high school sits in one of the wealthiest neighborhoods in the states but we still find ways to make one rich group better than the other.

Our parking lot is full of Mercedes, BMWs, supped-up Jeeps, shimmery two-door Porsches, and Ford trucks. Girls wear head-to-toe designer ensembles and frost themselves with Tiffany and Chanel. The guys aren't as obnoxious with bright labels on their clothing but are always whipping Louis Vuitton wallets out and walking around in Gucci sneakers. Every morning we get up and dress to post our OOTDs.