Cliché

chapter 5. queen b

Once the gold melts away, I'm left standing at the front entrance of the school yet again, with no students anywhere in sight. With the hot sun in the center of the sky, it seems as if time had either froze when I went to the Fairy Kingdom or the author rewound time in order for me to get more time with my other love interests.

Either way, the author needs to plan out this world's time a lot better.

"Miss?" A curt voice questions from behind me. I turn around to see a stout man with a name tag with the word Principal on it crossing his arms and tapping his foot impatiently. "Why aren't you in class?"

"Ah, the answer to that is easy. I was kidnapped by a gang, then transported to a fairy kingdom and was about to be married off to a sixteen year old. But I escaped," I state matter of factly.

"Don't lie to me," he snaps angrily.

I stare at him pointedly, gesturing up and down to my attire. "Is the wedding dress and the magical golden glitter all over my body not enough evidence for you?"

"What are you talking about?"

When I glance down, the dress disappears, an unsoiled school uniform and my backpack (that I had lost earlier when I was kidnapped) in its place instead. "No!" I cry out. "Not the dress!"

"Detention!" The principal yells out mercilessly. "Report to my office afterschool. Now, get to class."

I stare at his retreating figure in disbelief, dread weighing down on my chest. He gave me detention on my first day of school?

Refusing to spend the rest of my little energy fuming at the unfairness of the author, I shake my head and angrily pull out my schedule, checking for which class I'm supposed to be in. English.

Sighing, I walk towards the classroom, the quiet of the hallways allowing me to realize just how tired I am from the events of the day.

Author, listen up. You better not write in any more love interests— at least for next period— or I'm going to slap every single one of my other love interests until they leave me alone.

-⚘-

Before I can even make it to English, someone roughly shoves me, my back slamming against the hallway walls. I wince in slight pain, looking up to see an entourage of three girls staring angrily back at me.

The mean girls have finally arrived. I was wondering when they would come.

I glance straight at the girl in the middle, her stare being the most intimidating out of all of them. "Alright. Which one of my love interests are you here to threaten me over?"

"Your love interest?" She repeats icily, her eyes narrowing into a burning glare. "Brandon's my boyfriend!"

"Brandon..." I trail off, not having any recollection of who he is whatsoever. "Which one is that again?"

"Which one? The Quarterback, you dumb whore!" She screams, for some enraged at my apathy towards him even though it was what she had asked for in the first place.

"Hey, don't use that word." I frown. "Let's not perpetuate the notion that a girl who generally has many boys around them, sleeping with them or not, should be ridiculed for—"

"You better back off," she spits out, clearly not having listened to a word I was saying.

I purse my lips in slight irritation, but reign in my impatience and take a deep breath to calm myself down. "Mean Girl, let's have a talk, character to character. From this point onwards, your boyfriend the Quarterback and I are going to have a lot more run-ins, and I'm really sorry for whatever happens. Stupid author," I mutter under my breath. "But anyways, you're a lot better than a girl whose character revolves around chasing after someone else. Boys are stinky, anyways," I joke, a warm grin rising on my lips.