✔ DRUNK words, SOBER thoughts ✖ hemmings au

30: Princess vs. Princess

ARI.

Crazy how rapid rumors can spread in today's generation. Thanks to social media, smart phones and free wifi virtually anywhere, nasty comments and lies about a person can reach the entire world in just a click of a button. The more I thought about it, the more scary it became. It was spine chilling the way someone can take one simple piece of information and twist it, manipulating an entire body by how it's presented to them.

So as my school day proceeded normally, one tiny rumor that started before the first bell morphed into one huge campaign by the last period the of the day-- I was not surprised. Percival Shores High was notorious for this type of activity that it became the norm, but when said rumors were about my best friend, I knew it was World War Three.

I sat in my government class alone that day. Normally I'd be with Luke, purposely trying to distract each other while trying to take notes on the lecture. However, my favorite quiff boy was still bumming it in the hospital. It's been three days and I missed the kid-- I couldn't wait till he was home. Granted, I've visited every single day but school just wasn't the same without him. Though, there was a huge part of me that was relieved he was nowhere near campus.

"He's crazy,"

That's how the rumor started. Pieces of Luke's life in Sydney somehow managed to surface and after everything that went down a few days ago, the entire student body believed it.

"Apparently he went into therapy after going ape shit when his dad left the family,"

I scoffed, rolling my eyes upon hearing Katie's snotty voice fill my ears like nails to a chalkboard.

"Do you have a problem Ari? If you keep rolling your eyes like that, they may actually roll away," Katie shot me a snarky, tight lipped grin, her Barbie minion giggling at her master's comment.

"Actually Katie, I do have a problem," I smiled, putting my pencil down on top of my question packet. "I have a problem with pretentious axe wounds discussing a subject they don't know shit about."

"Is there an issue Miss Quiroz?" Mrs. Duarte glanced at the three of us through her 1950's inspired glasses with suspicious eyes.

"No ma'am," I shook my head, returning to my question packet.

"Of course you'd defend Luke," Katie noted. "He's like your new and shiny object added to your repertoire?"

"Repertoire?"

"Word too big? It means collection,"

"I know what it means!" I shot Katie an irritated glare before looking back down to answer question number 12.

"Dimples McGee, Asian Boy, and Future Bald Boy," Katie continued, oblivious to the fact that I was done with her and her fuckery. "Come on Ari, it's obvious that you all are in some punk rock orgy and now you've added Luke into the mix."

"Do you hear the shit that comes out of your mouth?!" I threw down my pencil in ire, causing Mrs. Duarte to saunter over to me.

"Miss Quiroz, language. I'm asking you to quiet down or you can finish you work in detention," Mrs. Duarte threatened. I looked from the black-haired teacher who was stuck in a decade of poodle skirts and back to Katie, whose satisfied smirk I wanted to slap off.

"No, I'm not going to quiet down!" I argued, causing the entire class to shift attention to me. "Not when the Pompous Princess wants to talk shit about my friends and wants to get away from it."

"Miss Quiroz, I'm going to ask you one more time..." With an authoritarian point of the finger, Mrs. Duarte gave me an ultimatum that I was willing to take. I curtly turned back to the Barbie doll.