The Rule Book

THE RULE BOOK (Written by Claire Harris and Zoey Jenson)

Zoey’s epic writing (Zoey doesn’t have epic thoughts. Only stupid ones)

Claire’s thoughts (Because Claire always writes boring and obvious shit)

RULES (Which we both must follow or ELSE)

Chapter One: Rule # 1

No matter what happens NOTHING and NO ONE will ever be able to tear us apart. (Because Claire can’t live without my epicness)(Zoey is a whore)

Claire Harris’s Point of View

So there I was, on a green beanbag chair in the library of Oakwood Middle School, seated next to the fish tank, Googling the different types of cheese.

I’ve always been the quiet type; the one who sits in the back of the classroom doodling on her hands and her converses with Sharpie markers. I’m the one who always has headphones in her ears, blasting music to block out the world. I’m the neat freak, the Goody Two-Shoes, the nerd. That’s basically what I’ve stereotyped myself as: Nerd.

I even have the glasses and the hair for it. My hair just hangs there around my face. My pale yellow fringe either rests on the frames or shields the right side of my face entirely, making me look more like a geek, if that’s even possible. The thick lenses make my crystal blue eyes look twice the size they usually are, which earns me the classic nickname of Bug-Eye.

I’m guessing Zoey Jensen think my parents actually named me that. It’s as if she honestly believes the name on my birth certificate reads ‘Bug-Eye Harris’. It’s not true, of course—my real name is Claire. Claire Harris. What a bland name. Fit for a bland girl who sees the world behind a pair of nerd glasses.

“Pssst, Bug-Eye!” A voice cut me out of my thoughts, but I gritted my teeth and ignored it.

“Bug-Eye! I know you can hear me!” It hissed again. However, I continued to keep my eyes glued to the computer screen of the laptop placed on my legs.

The voice signed in annoyance, and it shut up momentarily. I smiled inwardly. Maybe she actually decided to leave me alone for once. Good. She—

A piece of wrinkled notebook paper zoomed past my line of vision and before I could even react, it smacked me square in the middle of my forehead. I clenched my fists and looked in the direction it had flown from.

It was, in fact, Zoey Jensen. I groaned. She’s always nagging me. It seems like she thinks she can befriend just about anyone, and I guess she works her magic because all the boys in the seventh grade are practically falling at her feet. They seemed entranced by her deep, dark brown eyes and her shiny coal black hair. Most kids are. But not me.

To me, she’s like the Devil’s Child. She’s everything I’ve always wanted to be. She’s confident, thin, athletic, and outgoing. She’s not freakishly tall, and the worst of all is she’s pretty. She’s probably one of the prettiest girls in the seventh grade. I wouldn’t say I’m jealous of her, but I just wish I could be a little more like her. She never leaves me alone, always bugging me when I think it’s pretty obvious I want nothing to do with her. Now is one of those times.

I glared at her as she gave me a lopsided grin and waved. I huffed and returned to scribbling down the difference between feta and parmesan.

“Pssssst!” She whispered again.