Playing the Player at his own Game

Hey!

Basically, I wrote the simple plot line for this a while ago and posted it here on Wattpad but I‘ve finally got round to tweaking and updating it. Hope you guys enjoy- please drop me a review if you feel it needs one.

And to Chloe, if you’re reading this I kind of hate you but love you at the same time ;)

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I’ve always had a theory that if High School was a game of Tetris and each student was to be made a shape, then I would be the dreaded Green ‘Z’.

You know, the piece that always comes when you have a perfect block of four or five lines and all you need is that one blue horizontal strip to completely clear your board but no matter how hard you pray for one, you still end up with the Green ‘Z’ that doesn’t fit in at all? Well, that Green ‘Z’ is me.

I am the awkward, useless ‘Z’ shape with abominable timing.  And this particular morning was doing everything in its power to try and prove me and my stupid theory right.

 My alarm had failed to go off, my jeans had ripped down one leg and my shower was so cold I’m pretty sure even a polar bear would have cowered away in search of a jacket.

My hair was totally uncooperative and as a result was thrown into a bun. And I don’t mean one of those purposefully ‘messy’ buns that aren’t in fact messy in the slightest; I mean, pulled back incredibly loosely into a mass of curls and frizz at the back of my head with a few stands falling in my face. This ‘bun’ was starting to become a signature style of mine.

In my panicked rush I had also managed to poke myself in the eye with the mascara wand, leaving me temporarily half blind as I tried to apply the rest of my makeup. The result was watery mascara marks, uneven eyeliner and one incredibly red eye. Needless to say, I decided to remove the blindly applied war paint before heading downstairs.

When I reached the kitchen it was empty of two things; people (more specifically my brother Cameron) and food. I rummaged through all of the cupboards hastily trying to look for something edible but when I caught sight of the time, I had to cut my losses and head out the door.

It was kind of typical for me- after my catastrophe of a wake up, which included changing my jeans a total of three times, I was left with no breakfast and a stitch-inducing run to school.

Westmore High isn’t awfully far from my house but as a girl who spends way too much time reading and sitting at the computer, it may as well have been a marathon. By the time I arrived at the gates, the bell was ringing and I was leant against a wall in fear of passing out.

After finally loosing the lightheaded sensation and burning in my legs, I moved away from the wall and began to head into the building. Well, that was until the sound of a car horn and Ludacris’ ‘Move Bitch’ came screeching towards me.

“Move bitch get out the way, get out the way Bitch, get out the way!”

I instantly recognised the voice singing and turned to laugh bitterly. My twin brother Cameron, who was supposed to give me a lift, was hanging out of the window of a black Chevrolet Impala, owned by his complete asshole of a best friend.

“Thanks for the lift this morning Cam, my legs really appreciated the run here,” I deadpanned just as I caught a glimpse of Blake in the driver’s seat. He grinned without even glancing at me before driving off into the school’s student car park.

“Not my fault Blake wanted to leave early!” was the shout that echoed through the now emptying school ground. Of course it was Blake who decided to leave without me.