In her white dress

Chapter 1: Dont touch what you can't afford

Waking up the morning of your first day at a new school seems unusually exciting for me. After I moved to America from Sydney, Australia last year, I have noticed people admiring my unusual accent and my Australian beauty. So I can't say that I'm nervous at all for going to my new school for senior year.
"FAYE GET READY FOR SCHOOL!" I hear my Dad call from downstairs.
"I AM CALM DOWN DAD" I scream back.
"FAYE DONT USE THAT TONE WITH ME OR SO HELP ME GOD"- he didn't get to finish his sentence because I slammed my bedroom door shut and got changed.
I picked out my favourite pair of high waisted black skinny jeans, a loose flowing white tank top, and my black and white converse. I hastily straighten my long red hair and let it fall down my back. After applying some concealer, light foundation, mascara, and pale pink blush, I deem myself presentable for the day ahead.
Walking into the kitchen to see it empty, I secretly grab a chocolate muffin (which my dad never lets me eat) and my bag and keys, and rush out the door to my car. Now, my car is my baby, my pride and joy. I spent over four years saving for her, and she's magnificent. A jaguar f- type, convertible, silver with black interior, even my father is jealous of me. I sit down in the drivers seat and rev the engine, silently gasping when it roars to life. I put on my black Ray ban sunglasses, and start the drive to school, with the roof up due to the high wind.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

Driving into the parking lot of Lincoln high is a somewhat awkward experience. As soon as people see my car, they openly stare right at me, well not me of course because my windows are tinted, but at the beautiful car. I park right in the middle of three free spots, creating more space so nobody can scratch the paint on my car. Getting out of the car was even more awkward. Guys gawk as I make my way through the throng of teenagers, their girlfriends slapping them playfully. Some girls glare at me in jealousy, but most of them have that look on their face, the one that says 'I wish I could be her'. I smile awkwardly and try to keep my head down, moving through a group of jocks who not-so discreetly check out my ass. I hear one of them chuckle and i can see him reaching towards my backside from the corner of my eye. Before he has the chance to get any closer, I spin around, grab his wrist, and snap it backwards.
"Honey, someone with a face like yours doesn't touch someone with an ass like mine". I finish off by slapping him hard across the face. His friends laugh at him and I shoot them all glares, immediately shutting them up.
I still don't understand American teenagers.