(MOMENTARILY ON HOLD) The Other Girl (Harry Styles)

Chapter One

Chapter One

"Move, please. My friend and I need to get to class."

Chloe struts down the hallways in her six inch strawberry-red heels, the crowd fanning out with half-annoyed, half-awed whispers. I keep my head down and keep my distance from Chloe; she doesn't like it if people get to close to her unless it's a hot guy who wants to kiss her. I'm dressed in a way so that I co-ordinate nicely with Chloe's outfit, but so that I make her stand out and look better, not so that I look like her equal or her friend. I bite my lip and try not to feel irritated by how Chloe's arranged this.

"London, keep up," Chloe hisses. I speed up slightly. Chloe rolls her eyes a little, thinking that I don't see. But she's forgetting that just because I'm invisible, doesn't mean I'm blind – or deaf. I've noticed that people are prone to acting like I'm not there. It's not even 'talking behind someone's back' anymore – they say anything they want right in front of me, even if they know I'm there. It doesn't bother them. I'm just the other girl, after all. So what if I'm offended? As long as Chloe doesn't care, nor do they.

We arrive at our classroom and sit down just as the bell goes, marking the start of period one. It's Maths; not my favourite subject, but I'm not too bad at it, unlike Chloe. She sighs loudly and pulls out her books and pens, preparing for 'an hour of torture'.

Just then the teacher walks in. It's not Mr Davies, our usual Maths teacher. It's a substitue teacher. Chloe's eyes brighten immediately – a sub is like an ant to her. She couldn't care less what they think of her. She pulls out her iPhone and puts her earphones in, playing One Direction so loudy even I can hear it. The sub gives her a pathetic glare. Not at all unnerved, Chloe gives him an innocent smile and doesn't even pretend to remove the earphones or stop the music. The sub swallows nervously, obviously sensing how scary this girl can be, and moves towards the teacher's desk.

"Hi, everyone," he says awkwardly. "I'm Mr Gordon. Mr Davies is feeling unwell––"

"Must be the stuff we put into his tea," mutters a guy sitting at the back. His friends all laugh raucously. Mr Gordon twitches a little, but pretends not to notice and continues, "So, I'll be your teacher for today. We're going to start with a pop quiz."

The class explodes into groans. Mr Gordon looks like he's seen it all before. He pulls out a bunch of freshly photocopied pages out of his folder and hands them around, setting the timer to forty minutes. "Off you go."

Chloe looks down at her paper. Her expression turns into one of contempt and disgust. She glances at me; I'm busy filling out the answers, eager to finish the pop quiz as soon as I can. When I've put down my pencil Chloe passes me her paper. Her graceful handwriting covers the back of the page: Give me your paper and I'll pretend to be filling it in. Do mine for me and then we'll swap papers back to our own ones, kay? Thanks, mwa mwa!

I bite my lip and nod barely. How can I say no, after all? Chloe's Chloe. I hand her my paper and Chloe puts on a studious expression, as if she's busily reading the questions. Meanwhile I fill in Chloe's paper. The pop quiz is easy; I'm pretty certain I got them all right. I know that if I give Chloe the answers, she'll get them all right, too. And I want that, right? She's my best friend, after all. Every time I've filled in her papers I've given her the same answers as me.

But my hand wavers as I'm about to circle the answer for the last question. The timer tells me I have a minute left. I spend a few seconds contemplating what to do. And then, with ten seconds left, I circle the incorrect answer, in a spur of the moment. My heart's racing as Mr Gordon collects the papers. What have I done?!

Mr Gordon marks the papers like he's done it a hundred times before. In just a matter of minutes he's done. He clears his throat and the class quietens a little. "Well done to London James, who got a hundred percent. Congratulations, London."

He gives me a wan smile and I return it nervously. Chloe's frowning. Suddenly she puts up her hand, waving her perfectly manicured fingers in the air. Mr Gordon raises his eyebrows. "Yes?"

"There must've been some mistake," Chloe says. "I got them all right, too."

Mr Gordon's eyebrows lift even higher. "Your name, miss?"

"Chloe," she answers. "Chloe Golde."

Mr Gordon shuffles through the papers, fishing out hers. He scans her answers before shaking his head and saying, "I'm sorry, Miss Golde, but you got the last one incorrect. The answer's C – you circled D."

"That doesn't make any sense, Mr Gordon," Chloe says coldly. "London got them all right."

"And your point is?" Mr Gordon says wearily.

"Well––" Chloe hesitates. She can't say I filled in her paper because then Mr Gordon will know she cheated. She gives in, but shoots me an icy glare as the bell goes, signalling the end of class. We all get up noisily, trooping to our next classes. I try to slip out the door with the crowd of students but I feel a hand grip my arm and I'm whirled around.

Chloe has the most angry look on her face. "What was that about, London? You filled in my paper the same as yours, how could our results be different?"

"I guess – I guess I accidentally circled the wrong answer on the last question," I stammer. "I'm sorry, Chloe."

"Sorry doesn't cut it, idiot!" Chloe hisses. I flinch at the harsh word. "You did better than me."

"It's just a pop quiz, Chloe," I say weakly, knowing that this won't make any difference.

"I – don't – freaking – care – what – it – was," Chloe says slowly. "You did better than me. You're not supposed to do better than me."

"Well, maybe I can do better than you for a change," I blurt out. Shit. What did I just say?!

Chloe's face changes from rage to confusion to absolute fury. Her face is contorted with anger, her blue-grey eyes freezing cold yet burning at the same time. Her grip on my arm tightens. "No, London," she says deliberately. "You cannot be better than me. Because I am always better than you, okay? You can't be better when you're not better."

I feel hot tears pricking at my eyes but I nod silently. Of course Chloe's better than me. She's perfect, for God's sake. I was stupid to think that I could beat her for a change. I might have gotten a better result than her on a pop quiz, but that doesn't change anything.

Chloe's still better than me. Always has been, always will be.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Okay, that's my first fanfiction on Wattpad! I hope it was okay :) Okay so the One Direction bit is coming soon, so far it's just kind of explaining what kind of friend Chloe is... which is... not really a friend at all. Anyway, please tell me what you think, vote, and fan! Thanks so much!

Oh, and if you could recommend any really good Wattpad authors/books (fanfictions mainly please) then I would really appreciate it! Thanks so much!

Ceanna x