What would you do if your best friend committed suicide? What would you do if there was no way that you could help them? All there is left, is 199 letters. The only thing they left behind for you. © 2014, Ashley (larrystyIinson), All rights reserved

"If the world can't handle the truth, give them a spectacular lie." Bitch. That's what they called me at my old school. I disagree: I'm just brutally honest, that's all. Some people don't like honesty. Exhibit A: Matthew's family. None of them want to acknowledge that their Golden Boy is gay. Exhibit B: My Mother. I only told her the truth: that she was a crappy parent who never should've gotten knocked up in the first place. But she was so offended that she shipped me off to my fabulously wealthy father and his walking-billboard-for-plastic-surgery of a wife. So I devised a brilliant plan. My new friend Matthew was sick of hiding his sexuality. I was tired of obnoxious rich boys hitting on me. So why not pretend to be dating? He wouldn't have to answer uncomfortable questions anymore, and I'd enter my new school as the girlfriend of the star quarterback. It should be easy, right? Of course, I didn't plan on falling for Matthew's brother.

Stereotypes. I hate them. On my first day at my new school, a girl in a blue and white cheerleader's uniform told me I 'looked like a cheerleader' and asked me to come to tryouts. I almost decked her. Blonde hair and blue eyes do not a cheerleader make. Cheerleaders can be bitchy and mean but they can also act all happy and excited and they can drool and swoon over Finn Wallace – the hands-down hottest guy in school – like there's no tomorrow. Me? Well, I'm just bitchy and mean. So someone please tell me why Finn Wallace is suddenly chasing after me? *This is NOT a Bridgit Mendler fan fiction* Copyright © 2013 CrayonChomper