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Chapter 1


IT GIRL
Vice president’s just don’t listen. They are always messing up everything from copying too many fliers too just being annoying. Whiners. Oh, I forgot my name is of course Bridget and I am from Lakeshore high. I am considered the best candidate for student body president for sophomores’ because I have the best looks, blondest hair, and most gorgeous eyes (blue). My friends are helping me win it for the reputation, but it is mostly because nobody would want anyone else in the sophomore year to become leader besides me. Mandy is trying to become student body president as well but chances are she won’t make it whether it’s from her contemptuous look or her flaring nostrils, you choose.
“Bridget, staple.” While Stacy and Rebecca held up my banner I dotted it with pink staples. On the poster it held a shining star gleaming just as much as her white teeth while her hair resembled her ability to make shift at the last moment with a curling iron. Nor did she have any problems with acne; otherwise she wouldn’t ever be able to show her face at school. With that thought I gave a disgusted face to the poster.
“Is something wrong? What you don’t like the poster?” Stacy inquired with her squeaky voice.
“Not again.” My, oh so unhelpful friend Rebecca replied.
“NO! Of course not, I love it.” I countered while focusing on rubbing the poster down to make sure it didn’t have any bubbles. “I just got a real bad image of me having red pusses on my face.”
“Ewe!” the girls said in unison.
Suddenly, the passage way to my lungs began to block air from rushing in or out of me for no reason of my own. I felt as if there was this path I was trying to follow but the doors wouldn’t open no matter how much I hissed or whined or screamed at it. I started getting dizzy and began to see white dots form all around my peripheral view. Quickly, my friends hovered over me just making me feel worse, but helping in having no one see that I was receiving a severe asthma attack. I started breathing in and out hysterically, in the process making my chest come up and down from not knowing what to do.
“Bridget, inhaler quick, people are going to start staring soon.” Rebecca rushed out of her mouth.
I grabbed my white Chanel purse and pulled out my inhaler. Pulling my head back, I got ready for the pure joy and relief of that first good fake breathe of air. It came after I pushed down on the top of my inhaler and opened my mouth in the process basically starving for the gas in the meantime. It came and my whole body filled with air, but it was only a pretend happy, for it only seemed to last for a moment.
“Better?” Rebecca asked.
“Much better.” I replied
Even though I could breathe again the girls and I rushed to the bathroom after the bell rang. We didn’t know what would happen if I started having another asthma attack in the middle of class. Last time that I received one of those in class everyone thought I was having a bad reaction to drugs and it didn’t help my social status.
“What happened? Bad timing . . .?” Stacy asked.
“Of course. It’s always bad timing with Bridget here.” Rebecca replied.
“You guys should go to class” Especially since I don’t want to hear you talking badly about me in front of me.
“You sure you’re okay?” Rebecca asked conspicuously with her alto voice.
“Course, I’m Bridget Meddly.”
Both girls waved goodbye and left. I walked up to the mirror seeing the reflection of a tear-stained girl. Why did I have to embarrass myself again from this stupid disease? And on another hand, when did people fall in love with raggedy clothes? Was it when everyone suddenly became pour? I started to cry like a baby, making oceans fall out of the ridges of my eyes moving over hills and resting on the edge of a cliff before scarcely making their way over the cliff and onto the floor. *KNOCK KNOCK* the sound vibrated through my wavy curls and made my head pound from such a wholesome pulsation. I stood back and looked towards the cement colored door as it began to open. Oh, man! Shoot, shoot, shoot! What to do? What to do? As quick as a hare I wiped the tears from my face, grabbed my bag, and ran to a stall. I basically slammed the door on my way. While I hit my forehead with my hand in exasperation someone walked into the ladies’ restroom.
“Hello, is anyone in here?” the voice spoke. It wasn’t any voice though, it sounded like a young boy’s voice. What is a guy doing in the ladies’ bathroom, and more to the matter what is he doing in high school?!
“Huh, I thought I heard someone.” Please, like no one can deceiver that sarcasm.
“I guess I have no choice, but to leave since no one’s here.” He sighed in pity.
Don’t fall for it. Don’t fall for it . . . the door silently opened and closed with a squeak that always disrupts speaking to friends because it is so loud. It felt as if I was in a horror movie getting ready for the sequence of events leading up to the fake cheerleaders’ death. Well, here it goes. Opening the door slowly, I looked out of the door with one blue eye. I could only see the door much taller than me to my left and the cement walls to the middle of me and to the right of me I saw the edge of the mirror I had looked in. Opening the door completely with a loud sigh from my mouth I felt so much better that no one. . . “Ah!” I screamed stumbling in my heels from the sight I saw and eventually, like in slow motion made my way backward, hands reaching for air to the bathroom toilet. When my butt hit the toilet seat with a thump! I couldn’t believe I couldn’t believe it. Looking up I found a pair of shy brown eyes looking back at me from the stall door. Tilting my head back I sighed so loud I swear it vibrated the whole bathroom. I lifted my head back in its functional position and knew what to do with defined experience.
“Hey, kid! Who do you think you are walking into the girls’ bathroom for no reason? Are you some kind of pervert? Well!” He was silent. He didn’t seem embarrassed, just content with his little self.
“Well, I can tell you if you tell anyone what just happened here I’ll. . .”
“You’ll what, tell my parents on me?”
Surprised, my mouth hung open in awe. I made a noise of exasperation as if I was trying to breathe again, but this time I had air in my lungs.
“Who the hell. . .”
“Oh, sorry I forgot to introduce myself. The names Braydon Jaxon, but you don’t have to tell me yours I already know it. I’m new here. Just came in from Oregon.”
Realizing I was still sitting awkwardly on a toilet seat I got up. While fixing my skirt I thought that if he knew who I was then why did he even come here? Since he was stupid enough to go into the girls’ bathroom knowing I was in here, I asked him what was wrong with him.
“My mother says I have psychological problems. You know where that happens right, it’s in the brain.” He pointed dumbly to his skull as if I didn’t know.
Geez, this guy was such a cliché. He thinks I’m dumb just because I am popular. So immature and he played the part too. He had light brown hair that you could do that new hair shake from side to side, sort of like a mop hair due. His eyes were as innocent as his name. What was even more shocking was that he was 3 inches shorter than me, and that’s if you don’t add my 5 inch heels. Why wasn’t he just in middle school since he was so short, it would save him from the misery? Checking out his face I noticed he didn’t have a large nose or acne which is a nice feature to have in high school, but I couldn’t really spot his ears because they were hidden from his hair.
“I think I’m going to like you.” Braydon suddenly spoke.
“What?” I had been so transfixed on his looks that I could have been standing there for 5 minutes now and not know it. I hope I wasn’t.
“I should go, feel better.’”
“Hey! Don’t forget, this didn’t happen and you didn’t see anything. In fact, you don’t even know me, okay?”
The only signal I got back was wave of the hand as Braydon left the ladies’ bathroom leaving me there dumbfounded to what he meant by ‘feel better.’

Walking through the dirt halls with my brown bag as big as a dog to the side of my knees I was so unfocused I bumped into two lockers and an emergency fire extinguisher. Who is that kid, is he new, does he really have psychological problems? Most definitely psychological problems, but there was a lot more to the kid than meets the eye, that’s why I can’t mess with him yet. Just until I get to know what he wants and why he thinks he can mess with me.

I stopped at the front entrance to my biology class too tired-even if it was only first block-to explain to the teacher why I was late and so on and so forth. After hesitating for three times, wondering if I should open the door or go back home, I finally opened the door. If my mother or father found out I was skipping school again they would have my head cut off by a butcher. Entering the classroom, everyone turned eyes to me. Oh man, I forgot I had been crying. I hope my eyes weren’t too puffy.

“Well, well looks like we have a second student late for class today and this one isn’t even new today. How just wonderful for me? Well, where is your pass Miss Meddly.”

Oh man, I knew I forgot something. “Sorry sir, I don’t have one for you, sir.”

The teacher did his usual disappointed face and long, long, sigh and then the “fine, just take your seat.” Man, teachers can be suckers just because your parents pay for a charitable donation each year for the school. Taking my seat in the back of the class I noticed no one was sitting to the left side of me. Of course, no one has sat beside me in this class besides that foreign girl, but she left the class after I almost blew up her face using chemicals. Now

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