Mr Cliché.

one.

C H A P T E R 1
_____

S C E N E
1
______________

"SIGH..."
____________
.*

Armani Wilson.
That's me.

I slipped out of the leather seat I grew comfortable to, looking over at my mother as she sat at the driver's seat.
She tossed a warm grin my direction as I returned the gesture. My grin less optimistic than her light beam.

That was our silent goodbye and good luck for the day.

I shut the car door with enough force. It's light thud a gentle reminder of my exit, matching the sound of my heartbeats per second.

I watched as the white BMW drove off, then disappear when turning a corner.

It was then that I turned around to face hell up close.
The place that we as teenagers are forced to attend and if not; we suffer an eternity of debt and unemployment.

But, then again. You're still going to suffer from it either way, so we're just stalling the process by attending what we call:

High school.

A phase where you dedicate your life to self knowledge, peer pressure, sexual curiosity, alcohol and various other substances.

I on the other hand, have managed to survive three years without partaking in such vigorous activities. All except self knowledge, I think I know a handful about myself.

My gaze shifts downward to scan my fit.

An oversized black graphic tee, dark high waisted jeans and Nike's. Not bad, plus I loved the jeans, they held my hips and hugged my behind perfectly. The best feeling is when you find perfect fit jeans.

I dug into the side of my bag and slipped out my clear lipgloss, applying it for the second time this morning.

I popped my lips before placing the gloss back, then grabbing my phone. I plugged the white iPhone earphones in before placing the speakers in both my ears, then scrolling through my Apple music.

"Ridin' round" by Kali uchis rung into my eardrums as I made my way towards the school building.

I mentally rolled my eyes at the sight of everyday highschool pupils, doing their everyday things.

You'd think after three years of being in this place, I'd like the sight of these people. I didn't and couldn't wait to leave.

My sneaks hit against the waxed surface as I passed through teenage infested halls. I walked by the dudes that threw their usual glances my direction.

I ignored them, as per usual.

I scanned the halls till Oceanic eyes, shielded by lenses fell towards me. Familiar eyes that locked with my dirt coloured ones, I grinned.

Those Oceanic eyes belonged to those of a pale, brown haired lady that came at five foot six. She stood against her green locker, crossing her arms against her chest as she eyed my incoming presence.

Kara Mallory, my best friend of five years.

"You look sexy, Kara, I wonder for who"

I remove one earphone, grinning brightly when I got closer towards the pretty brunette. Her pink coated lips curled into a small grin as she dropped her arms.

"You ofcourse. You though, nice shoes"

I bow in appreciation while giggling softly before walking towards the neighbouring locker and pressing the side of my black puma book-bag against it.