Dangerous Illusions

One

The sunny small-town of Riveroaks, Arizona, was home to many middle-upper middle class families. Everything was neat, orderly, and was known for the beauty in organization. One thing not prided on was diversity, which is something Tala did not enjoy.

Tala Valentina Riviera Flores was never the girl someone hated. As she took pride on her name, she also took pride in avoiding conflict as much as possible. Most would describe her as bubbly, charming, and all around enjoyable. However, one thing was for certain, she could not wait to leave this town.

As summer began to cease, the beginning of Tala's journey of Senior year commenced. Which brings us to July 28, 2020.

Tala:

Driving into my school parking lot, iced coffee in hand, I am finally ready to accept the last year of this forsaken event, Senior Year.

Walking into my last first day of high school, I could not be more ecstatic. And even though I am very much ready to drop all of my acquaintances, I am still very excited for whats in store senior year.

I reach to my first destination of the day, photography.

Luckily enough, I share this class with Summer Winters, a girl whose parents were able to give her anything to her hearts content, except a better name. Summer and I go way back, when we were lab partners our freshman year. What always amazes me is how weirdly she fits into her name. Her icy blue eyes complements her warm blonde hair. We are practically inseparable.

"Did you read the groupchat this morning?" She asks as we take seats next to each other.

"No, I was in kind of a rush, I barely slept at all last night," I responded, opening my phone.

"Apparently," Summer begins, " The boys were in zero hour today, and they have a new transfer, Ryder Liu-Johnson, apparently he was able to out bench Grayson."

I laughed."Poor Grayson, first Kennedy breaks up with him because she leaves for college, and now some guy shredded the last inch of masculinity he has left?"

"Well get this, Ryder is hot. Like ohmygod-i-want-to-bang-you hot" She excitedly says. And I finally realize why she's telling me this.

Almost two years ago, little old me had my heartbroken by some dude which I don't even believe telling his name is worth my energy. Long story short, I was head over heels in love with him and I never realized how much he was controlling me. I became one of those girls, my social life was centered around what he wanted me to do, and frankly, I was not one of those girls. I finally called it quits when I had a once in a lifetime internship opportunity to have a mock trial in Harvard, for three weeks. When he first found out about the internship, he was mad at me because he also applied for it, and he didn't get accepted. Time went on. The last date we had before I was about to leave, he told me he didn't want me to hang out with boys, and that finally did it for me.

The internship opened my mind, made me truly realize what I can be and how independence is a wonderful thing, and losing emotional baggage also means losing thirty pounds. It had also taught me that breaking up with someone means that they will sleep with every single girl you had a weird feeling of, one being the girl before me, which he said he was still in love with when we were dating. I have no idea why I was with him for a whole year.

So now, Summer knows the ins and outs of my deep rooted commitment issues, and how I am pretty much over every boy who attends this school.

"Do you have a picture of him?" I ask slightly intrigued, Senior year can be anything I want it to be, and I honestly don't want to be the only girl alone in my coupled friend-group. Sleepovers suck when they all decide to do their thing and you're left alone watching a movie by yourself with no one than a dog to keep you company.

She pulls up his instagram and my jaw basically drops to the floor when I see this Korean-Caucasian Adonis. Who apparently transferred from San Francisco the blandest place on earth. His feed is normal for any 17-year old boy. However, one picture that caught my attention was him at the beach, and his washboard abs set on display. I am not one to objectify others but Jesus Chrust the set of abs on him is spectacular.

"Ok here's the plan," I begin, "

The teacher, Mr. Andrew, bore quite a reputation in our school as being one of the teachers who doesn't care about the curriculum, as long as it doesn't affect the boys lacrosse team. Meaning, I can skip or be late to as many of these classes as I want.

Mr. Andrew drones on about the class expectations, and something, nay, someone strikes my eye.