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by Hazel Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 13+ · Chapter · Comedy · #2064207
Introduction- I'm the popular girl


Introduction- I'm the popular girl


First off, I’m the popular girl. I’m not showing off, just stating the facts. It is funny how in every stereotype ever, the popular girl is the villain, She’s a, rich, stylish, girly spoiled brat who has minions by her side at all times and purposely picks on people lower then her. but, at best, it turns out she acts mean because mommy is mean to her and daddy is never there. I am that girl and I’m not even going to sugar coat it: That girl is a bitch (and you can stop judging and hating me because this is not what this story is about) However, unlike the stereotypes, I don’t act the way I do because of problems at home or whatever, in fact, I don’t care that my dad is always working (he fills my credit card so I can’t really complain) and mom is actually okay (and easy to avoid in our big-ass house anyway). I don’t have a particular reason why I chose to be the person I am today. I guess mostly because it was easy- I’m rich, pretty and I have the confidence to get there. There was going to be a mean girl anyways and, let’s be honest, the only way to get to the top is to spread rumours and look pretty. You can watch an inspirational movie on how the friendly girl beats the mean girl by showing that everyone can be themselves and live happily ever after. You can read a lovely book about everyone being happy as friends as soon as the popular girl is out the way but the truth is, if the popular girl is out the way, she’ll just get replaced by someone even bitchier. Not everyone can be happy, not in this day and age, maybe one day we will live without a hierarchy of high schools but, for now, we’ll have to face the truth and accept that, unlike in movies and books, you can’t just be nice to everybody and hope it works; people will call you fake or literally just look for reasons to hate you anyway. People hate me now, I know they do, why wouldn’t they? There’s always going to be one person who hates you and I could write you a bible-sized list of reasons why each individual person in my school could hate me (most would be jealousy) but the fact that they hate me doesn’t matter, they envy me and they respect me so, once again, I don’t care. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying that I prefer the life of a girl who has to spread whatever gossip she can find asap just to keep minimum respect to a life where we all accept each other even if we dress differently or our parents earn a different amount of money, I’m just saying I don’t have the option to go skipping through meadows holding hands with every being in the school singing: “let’s all be friends!”. Someone had to be queen bee and I just got there first, while the runners-up became my best friends. Which brings us to our next topic:

Don’t feel sorry for me because I honestly don’t care but I don’t really have any real friends. I mean, I have ‘friends’, plenty of them, I’m just pretty sure they would happily stab me in the back if they had the chance (and I don’t really mind because I know I would probably do the same to them) Maybe Christi and Bella would have second thoughts: they’re my best friends, we do everything together. I have fun with them, sure, but I just don’t particularly like them as opposed to anyone else. Then there’s Jackson, my boyfriend; he’s probably the only person in the school who I don’t think has the potential to hate me. We’ve been together for a year (and 7 months) now and, even if we don’t hang out as much as we used to, he’s pretty much the only piece of reality I can hang on to. The rest of the world is fake and cruel, don’t hate me just because I chose the happier end of the spectrum.

Moving on:
Talking about Jackson, he’s the only person I’ve told about Hathaway’s. Hathaway’s Boarding school for rich, posh, posh-o-snobs is a fancy, expensive school for rich kids and geniuses. I am a rich kid. My parents care about my education and whatnot and Hathaway’s has a great reputation - so I’m starting there next year. It’s the most high-tech school in the world and it has its own app and a giant campus big enough for a decent shopping trip and it even has a Starbucks (You can call me basic, but you can’t take away my Pumpkin Spice lattes on a cold, autumn, day –mmmmm…) Anyways, the reason I only told Jackson is that I only need to say goodbye to him. Well, I’ll say goodbye to everyone else, it just won’t be quite as hard, and we’re only just starting the Easter holidays, I have time. However, when I leave, Jackson will stay here and I’ll live in a boarding school in London. We’ll be forever apart. With Christi and Bella, they’ll probably instantly become major kiss-asses so they can replace me once I’ve given them the key to ultimate popularity- the school’s unofficial Facebook page. This Facebook page is known for four things:
1) Its posts feature every new rumour in school and all the hottest topics along with big party invites and (at the cost of 10 quid) sometimes student president election posters and club sign-ups
2) 50% of what it shares is the equivalent of the gun in social murder
3) Whoever runs the Facebook account runs the school
4) I run the Facebook account
Anyways, moving back to Hathaway’s, I took a test to see if I could get myself a scholarship. I know it seems like a waste of a scholarship if I can afford to go to the school anyway but I wanted to see if I could push myself (caring about cloths and makeup doesn’t mean I can’t care about academics, in fact, I really want to publish my own magazine one day) also, I though a scholarship could get me bragging rights and reputation that’s not entirely about looking pretty. All in all, if I do get a scholarship, I’ll be able to start at my new school next term (which is too weeks from today) though I don’t really get why I’m telling you – my parents are the only ones pressuring me to start the year early but I’m planning on moving next year either way.

Now I think that’s all, I guess you’re updated on my life so bye

Love and whatever
xxx
Mackenzie Amores
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