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Chapter 1 ~ Bad Reputation

Four years of my life. Four. And where do I choose to spend these four, might I even say scandalous, years? High school. High school, the most gruesome, shameful and embarrassing four years of my life.

If I had a penny for every time my fantasy's had been cut short, meaning leaving poor Ryan Gosling at the altar, I would be on a yacht... with Gosling obviously.

Going to school is not voluntary, of course. It is the fucking law, for me to drag myself out of bed, every Monday to Friday at 7:00 am and get ready for a day of torture. It flat out sucks! But even though, the past three years have been nothing BUT hell.

Let me repeat BUT HELL. And I mean hell as in, being stuck in a room, listening to Taylor Swift songs on loop, with no signs of escape. Hell as in reading about one more frickin' Jelena on/off again article.

Hell as in someone telling you Pretty Little Liars has been cancelled.

It hasn't, don't worry... but it scared you.

I am grateful to say that this is my last year. And for all you idiots who don't know what I'm trying to say, I mean I'm gone, leaving, sayonara.

If you still dunno what I'm telling you, I'm graduating! Andcuetheapplause.

How I long to see myself walk out of those doors. Never looking back. Well I will look back, when I'm writing a book. Or staring in one of those life movies, idiots like us pay to go see. I shall look back, and recognize the hell it's put me through...

Wait,

I mean the hell I've put others through. Honestly, the only thing high school has given to me, is reasons to hate cliché remarks about blonde haired, blue eyed cheerleaders. And girl-thriving, hormonal, athletic, dirt bags: also know as teenage boys.

The ones everyone will recognize, you know? Looking through your year book, 10 years from now. Truth be told, it doesn't matter if you're the re-animation of Sir Albert Einstein. Or had the passion and power of Martin Luther King Jr. It doesn't even matter if you cured frickin' cancer in high school.

Unless, you waved pom poms, or are athletic in anyway or just, in some way, are big, bold and different, then I can't really say to you, you'll be remembered.

No one will remember a nose picking, pimple faced, geek called Arwin.

They'll remember a bootylicous, face sucking flawless skinned cheerleader named Mandy.

Because that's just high school. And well, we can't really change that. As much as we try, we live in the 21st century, so we have expectations to live up to. We have people to impress. But never ourselves to impress. Just society.

I mean, I would like to say, I'm just a nobody. That, I'll be just another random gorgeous face in the year book, but that'd be a lie. And a big one, at it. Everyone knows me. I'm Dylan Lee Taylor. Sister of the once high school famous, Jessie Lee Taylor.

Legends both of us, if I do say so myself.

'Dylan, get up. Now!' the sound of my 24 year old brother hits me, like a ton of bricks. I live with him since our mum died a few years ago; my dad went totally, insane, and ended up in prison. I'm really grateful that he still takes care of me, even though I am 17 years old. We manage just fine, since my mother didn't have any brothers or sisters, she left us her will. She had a decent job, good money, which is now in our possession.

'No joke, baby sis, get up' Man I hate it when he calls me that. I'm not a baby.

'OK, Jessie! Just 10 more min-' Before I had time to finish my sentence, I had dozed off, in to my slumber once again. Land of unicorns and cliché free, no stereotypes... and a very impatient Ryan.

My musical honeymoon was soon interrupted by loud banging on the door.

'Seriously! Get up! Don't make me come in there.'

'Fine! But now I'll never get to tell Gosling that Efron wanted me all along.' How could I return to one of the best fantasy's ever? He practically tried to break down my door. I got dressed in the usual combination: skinny black jeans, black and white sweater, black vans and to finish the look added a navy blue 'Brooklyn' beanie. I let my dark, red hair fall wildly while picking up my bag going down stairs.

Swarming past, I sent a few sheets flying, as I tried to find both my history and technology homework. See the problem with school, it's already got me mad this early in the morning. 'Hey, calm your high horse, or you'll break something.' Jessie gives me a warm smile then carry's on drinking his coffee. 'Sorry, in a rush.'

'Yeah that's what happens when little girls like you, don't want to listen to their big brothers when they say it's midnight, and not the time for watching horror films.' I make a face at him, as he shakes his head while smirking. As I approach the door, Jessie offers to give me a ride to school. But I have to refuse.

'Nahhh, I don't want freshmen to fear me, because of 'the Jessie Lee Taylor', I'll just drive myself.' he smirked at me when I walked out: it was true though. My brother was known quite well in these parts, as mentioned before; this is because of his over-protectiveness towards me. We live in a small town, so everybody knows everybody and gossiping is all we ever do, because our life goals are to be a walking, encyclopedia about everyone else.

I place the key in the lock of my jeep gladiator concept and hopped right in. I'm not a proche type of girl, if you haven't already noticed. Sitting in the car for a minute, I check my phone to find that Lacey has left about three million messages about how she doesn't want me to pick her up today because her mum is dropping her off.

I'm glad she told me beforehand. Lacey Jackson is my best friend and the complete opposite of me. She is happy, bright, upbeat and always smiling. With her beautiful, long, glossy brown hair which she would let fall wildly, to her soft brown eyes, she was gorgeous beyond compare. Half Filipino, half American. I on the other hand was sarcastic, moody, stroppy and couldn't really care less what other people thought of me, maybe that's why I'm the most feared girl at McKenzie High. And also what I meant by not being a nobody.

I arrived at school with lots of time to spare (why the duckski did Jessie wake me up so early?) I pulled up to the parking lot, to see the spawn of Satan. Bailey Miller, everybody. The walking definition of hell, wait that's kind of harsh, what did hell do to be compared with her? GOSH, I don't understand why she's such a bitch! It could be because she's Captain of the cheerleaders. Not saying all cheerleaders are bitches, just our ones. She was glued to her boyfriend, Jayson Davies, the captain of the football team, stupid high school stereotypes. When will it end? Considering I live in the 21st century, that would have to be... never.

She knows how much of a douche bag he is, yet she continues to go out with him. Purely because of status. Why doesn't your mind function the same as mine? It's stupid. Well, they do say ignorance is bliss.

Not making any eye contact, I tried to find a free parking space. But the only other parking space was right next to 'I feel the need to snog my boyfriends face off'. Oh well, say la vi. Senior year only comes round once. Might as well live it to the fullest.

I parked my car where, if I had a choice, would be my last option. Right next to fake-r-us. I got out of the car to see all eyes on me. Like dafaq, haven't you ever seen a person get out their car?

'Um, excuse me honey, I think you're mistaken. The Zoo is that way.' COLD. Bet you know who said that. Even though if any other girl had said that to me, they would be in the emergency room, Bailey Miller is an exception. It's nice to have an enemy.

'Really? Then why are you are you still here?' A couple of giggles escaped Bailey's groupies. She shot them a death glare. Then backed off, but not without a comeback

'If I belong in the zoo, then where do you belong?'

'Wow, great come back. Last time I heard that, I fell off my dinosaur.' I sighed, then walked away from the situation, because I knew for a fact if I had stayed, she would have a black eye by now. Imagine it, queen bee, rocking the whole black eye look. It's a new trend!

Walking into the building, I opened the door like one of those Disney princesses and inhaled the intoxicating smell of desperation and loneliness.

'Hey, hey Dyl.' I would know that cherry voice any where. Zac Efron! Say it isn't so.

It isn't so.

'Hey, Lace. Got your messages. ALL of them'

'Sorry, I just didn't want you to come all that way for nothing, my mum's meeting started a bit later than usual.' Could she get any nicer? Lacey Jackson, the girl who would walk a mile in a blizzard, with a cold; just to get you a cup of coffee. I know this is true, because she once done that for me. Freshmen year, aah, discovering Starbucks.

Needless to stay, I hated it. I'm just not that, average white girl. Well... average white girl. Half Hispanic. Being different oh, yeah. Perks to me.

'No need to apologize.' We started talking by my locker about our weekend. Where I stayed in, watching back to back episodes of Pretty Little Liars. I'm really liking the way 'A' works. Maybe I'll take the same approach to society. You'll never know. You may be receiving a text from me, right now.

You'll never know.

The hallway was crowded with people chatting away loudly, as if they were miles apart from each other, but in fact, only a few metres, about their useless lives. And I know I shouldn't say their lives are useless, because everyone on this earth has a purpose and blah, blah, blah. But come on people, wake up. They're probably talking about some eye shadow they brought that matches their cute halter top. Or how they lost their virginity, or have taken someone else's.

Let's face it, we're teenagers. What's interesting? You got a new pimple, congratulations.

But then suddenly, a path way formed, the once lively expression on the people's faces was instead filled with fear. I only knew one person who could change the atmosphere so suddenly.

Well, other than me.

Brandon. Also known as 'Ace'. Remember what I said? About unless you wave pom poms or are an athlete, to be remembered you have to be big. Well what's bigger then being a rebel? A trouble maker? A distributor? A bad boy?

Needless to say it's cliché, as F. But what would high school be without a bad boy?

He was straight out HOT. A dream. From his pearly white teeth, to his sexy, built body. He wore a plain white top, black jeans and had a stylish backpack, but he was a jerk, an idiot, an obnoxious twat. Mind my poor language, my mama did teach me better.

That aside he looked furiously mad. This is a boy everyone fears, and you never want to get on his bad side. He's popular, really popular. Not that he cares. He lives in his own world, a bubble almost, where he makes the rules, and breaks'em and changes them. I'm assuming the rule in his world is; it's not a rule if it applies to him. Or that he is an exception to all rules.

Whichever one floats your boat. But he's not like most of the boys labelled bad in different schools. Ours is divergent. And not the shitty excuse for a movie you're thinking about. He, drum roll please, doesn't date anyone. So, I can't call him a player, or sleazebag. In all honesty I think he's a virgin.

OK, I'm getting ahead of myself, with abs like his there's no way in almighty heaven that he's a virgin.

He threw his bag into his locker, the look on his face was as if he wanted to knock someone out, and I am guessing he was going to. Typical bad boy attitude. Walking down the hall, all eyes are on him; then he looks at us, me in particular. It was as if the whole world had frozen. I stared at him. He stared back. I looked deep into his green eyes, and was hypnotized. I broke the connection, and he kept walking toward his destination. Swiftly, the world around me began to breathe again.

That was weird. I'd never liked him, honestly I find him full of himself. But every other girl is in love with him, they find him terrifying as hell, but still really hot. Yet I'm not scared of him. Does that make me weird?

Ah, great. Now I sound like a stupid Taylor Swift song, let's call it 'Those Green Eyes', and Harry, it's not about you this time.

'Whoa that was scary; did he just look at you and smile? Dyl? Are you still with me?'

'Yeah, and he wasn't looking at me.'

'Yes he was, he was so looking at you. And why are you blushing? No, you don't, do you?' One thing about Lacey is she assumes the absolute opposite of your emotion. 'OMG, Dylan you like Ace. I know you do, don't even think about lying. You two could be the school's bad couple, how cute!' I just sighed and took off, with her right by my side. Going on and on about how I like him (but I don't). 'Aren't you... well, scared of him?' This question made me think. Why aren't I afraid of him?

Maybe because the bad boy effect doesn't work on me.

'I don't know.' The conversation was dropped, when we entered first period. Maths, 'Yay'.

---

When I came out, I was exhausted. I am a straight A student and so is Lacey, but maths is so confusing: with the equations and formulas. And don't even get me started on algebra, I gave up when letters decided to get involved.

'Next lesson is technology.' Lacey said, in a very flirty kind of way. 'I know. I have it too.' I responded. There was a weird tone to the way she said it, I started to question her but all became crystal when we walked into out next class...

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A/N

Watch out for the update

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