Written for TorynnLewis's quote contest. Assigned a movie or television quote, we must incorporate or cite that quote somewhere within the short story. My quote: "You think people shouldn't keep secrets. I think that we are our secrets."

Sick of cliché Wattpad books? Then this isn't the book for you. We take every single over-used plot, character and trope on Wattpad - from player-meets-nerd to my-boyfriend-is-a-vampire - and mash it all into one, awful, hilarious parody. NOTE: This is a parody. Characters have not been created to mock a race/nationality/sexuality, they have been created to lightly poke fun at the way certain teen fiction writers reduce them into crude stereotypes. Thanks for helping this pile of junk get to #1 in Humor!

As the only daughter to one of the most powerful Mafia families, Shay has sought to figure out her own path despite the overbearing pressures from her Family. After a family dispute leads to Shay and her mother to go into hiding, Shay attends Elite academy--her own perfect Hell. With an incredibly awful (or ingenious) disguise, Shay's new identity is going well until Jacob Smith shows out of nowhere. Not only does he seem to know every right button to push, but he also seems to know everything about her. Shay's seemingly normal school life explodes with a new set of problems. Old and new enemies are coming for her and she needs to choose whether she will carry the Ricca name. Goodbye Nerd Disguise, hello old identity, old life, old friends, and new enemies. It's the Family business, where plotting someone's assassination is just part of the daily duty. (Unedited first draft) FYI title may be misleading at first.

❝Hello, this is the Starb-❞ ❝HEEELP ME!! PLEASE! THERE'S A MURDERER IN MY HOUSE!❞ ❝OH SHIT, SHIT, SHIT!! WHAT DO I DO?! THIS IS STARBUCKS, NOT FREAKING 911. WAIT, HOLD ON. TRY TO KEEP YOURSELF ALIVE, I'LL CALL 911!! STAY CALM. IT'S GOING TO BE O- ❞ ❝Wait...did you just say Starbucks?❞ ❝Um...yeah?❞ ❝They have a hotline?❞ ---- fun conversations between two Potterheads over the Starbucks hotline. [highest rank: #6 in short story] [highest rank: #2 in short story 5/6/17]

"What the hell?" I took a step closer to the mirror, staring at my reflection in disbelief. The person looking back was still me, but at the same time it wasn't. I had the same thick, dark, curly hair. The same hazel eyes. The same olive skin with a light dusting of freckles (ugh) scattered across the bridge of my nose. But my curls were now streaked with highlights. And not the subtle, golden-brown ones that sometimes appeared during the summer. No, these were an aggressive, dazzling blond that went from the roots of my hair all the way to the tips. It looked like I had spent a full day getting my hair done in some upscale salon. Never mind that I had never set foot in such a place since the day I was born. My eyes appeared somehow wider and more luminous. The colour brighter, my eyelashes darker up against them. And, when I looked closely, my pupils seemed to be slitted almost like a cat. I looked down at my body. My skinny arms-which had always refused to gain any definition no matter how hard I exercised-were lined with flat, wiry muscles. My bony shoulders were now curved and smooth. My scrawny legs were toned like a dancer. I reached down and lifted my shirt, revealing two subtle lines running vertically down my perfectly flat stomach, hinting at the rock-hard abs underneath. My whole body was rippling with strength. Like liquid steel.