Bad Boys

The Disadvantages of a Superior Intellect in an Unsophisticated Education System

In the morning I woke to Ida giving me a facial. Ughhhh, couldn't she do it more discretely? Probably can't help it because how short she is, half her body is just bent over me. Can't blame someone for being less attractive than me. You would be blaming the rest of the world.

"Good morning Ida, seems as though you've kept yourself busy," I said, not moving my lips so she keep going.

"Yes miss," she replied in her chirpy Victorian English accent, you see, all our servants were failed child actors. We tell them to change their accents and how they act depends on which aesthetic we want to live in that day.

I quickly told her to get off of me, I was so perfect I didn't need to have a facial every night and morning like most of my many friends did, but I had them done to get that wretched girl working.

I asked her for my breakfast and she got it out for me. Now, please be prepared for a great description, for I am a girl and therefore can eat anything without eating weight, but will only have one actual meal during the entirety of the story. The rest will be of me leaving lunch and dinner tables without eating anything. It's ok, I still have curves baby.

I had a lavish tray laid out before me as I dined in bed, resting on my plush baby pink pillows with small flowers embroidered with golden thread. The tray was much like my bedding, a soft pink colour outlined by gold and drawn over with flowers and a portrait of myself. We had it done by a famous artist, I forgot his name, but it cost us about $10 000.

Our plates were also quite expensive, and today I had one that matched my tray. On the plate, there were two soft fluffy banana and walnut pancakes drizzled in maple syrup and adorned by gold leaf. To the side, I had a pile of pricey and delicious white strawberries, cut to form precise love hearts. As for my drink, I had a slightly alcoholic pink one from Starbuck's secret menu.

I took a photo of it for Instagram, sending it to Amburr so she could see and edit the best pic, she's literally a photography prodigy. I 'finished' my meal, all with Ida looking at me because I hadn't sent her away. Goodness, she was so jealous of me.

"What outfit has the designer sent for me?" I asked her. My designer, she works with major luxury brands, also makes my clothes for me. She's a very talented seamstress, my parents only get me the best. Anyway, she's away running some catwalks in Milan or something so we have Ida call her every early morning.

Ida got up and laid out my clothes. There was a leopard-print bra, a soft gray blazer with satin pink embroidery and grey mini skirt to match. I ordered her to leave the room and she closed the massive doors behind her. I opened up the window that looked out upon my school and put up the blinds before taking off all my clothes and putting on my new ones. I winked at a boy training for rugby on the oval as I slithered into my skirt.

I grabbed my stuff and put it all in to a Gucci Kranken bag that was a beautiful red. All I needed was my phone, my voodoo doll of Bentley and my tablet. I ran into the elevator and rushed to school.

A few minutes later I arrived. School was very important to me—although not for academics. You see, as a character in a Wattpad book, I only really needed to attend half a lesson to maintain perfect grades. The rest of the time, I was free to cut class, do my makeup, gossip and thoroughly annoy the entire student population by making out with the hot guys in the corridor while people were trying to walk past us. 

However, today I would be attending at least half my classes. Admittedly, I would spend the entire lesson staring at my phone, waiting for a text from Marcus. You see, I have this rule that I hold myself to which states that if I have a guy I want to go out with, I will flirt with no more than two men a day. It's important to show commitment.

I sat at the back row of my physics class, between Leila and Bentley.

"Sooo.." Leila said insinuatingly. "What happened with Marcus?"

"It was amazing," I said enthusiastically, before remembering to keep my voice down. "We just met in some crappy car park, but he managed to make it seem so romantic. And then he showed me this beautiful thing he'd set up there."

"Did you...you know?" she pressed on, looking at me expectantly.

"He left, something about a friend needing help. Such a good man." I whispered dreamily.

"Aw," Bentley said. "Sucks for you."

I was going to continue, but a youngish teacher who stood at the front of the room cleared her throat.

"Ew, a sub," Leila scowled, realising that she wouldn't be able to 'talk' to Mr Williams about the homework.

Irritated by the class's poor focus, the teacher tapped the whiteboard with a ruler. The loud crack startled the class into looking at her. "Thank you," she said, adjusting her large glasses. "My name is Miss Hetfield. Mr Williams has recently injured his back, and will not be coming back to school until at least next semester. I will be your teacher until then. Any questions?"

The class was silent, and the teacher smiled. "Great!" she said with an upbeat tone in her voice that I immediately hated. As she talked exuberantly about centripetal force, I casually analysed her. She only looked to be a few years older than me, but was dressed frumpishly in a baggy shirt and jeans. She could really use a lesson on fashion. Despite her poor sense of fashion, overlarge glasses and drab brown hair, I couldn't help but notice the way that all the boys in the class were paying a lot more attention to the lesson than usual.

Losing interest, I looked down at where my phone rested in my lap. Smiling, I read the text that Marcus had sent me.

Marcus: Hey, sorry that I left. It was really important.

Me: That's all right. There's always another time, right?

I continued texting until Miss Hetfield interrupted me. "Eliza-lisa-elizabeth-bethany?" she continued, trying to say my name.

"Its Eliizabethany," I rolled my eyes. It was so rude of that teacher not to pronounce my unpronounceable name correctly.

"Well, Eliizabethany do you mind not looking at your phone while I am teaching?" she said. "As important as your social media status may seem, I can assure that it will not be getting you a good grade."

"I wasn't!" I exclaimed, standing up. It was unheard of for a teacher to say anything about my behaviour.

"Well then, perhaps you can offer a better explanation as to why you were looking at between your legs and smiling?" she said, smirking.

I sank back into the chair, blood rushing to my cheeks. "Sorry, Miss," I mumbled. I was furious, how dare she tell me not to be on my phone? It's not like I even came to school to learn. I would probably send a complaint email to the principal, a white male Gandalf like character, Mr Hands. He would most likely promptly fire her because as any good Wattpad character, I was not allowed to face problems, just in case there is this dreaded thing some like to call 'character development'. But until then, the annoying sub would be my issue. Oh, how I'll humiliate her.

As she - if that thing was even a she - kept talking, I slowly plotted her demise. I had friends everywhere, Ms What's-her-name had made a very powerful enemy. Maybe I would get my girls to surround her, lead her into the boys toilet (ew) and pour toilet water served ice cold and dyed red all over her. But that could be a bit unoriginal since I had done to my English Lit teacher. Hmph.