Hey there, Miss Popular!

I walk to the kitchen counter and sit on the chair, waiting for one of the chefs to cook me my breakfast. My sister sits next to me a little while later, looking pretty tired. Her hair’s sticking out in a few places and she has these really ugly eye circles.

My sister’s a huge slut, but at least she doesn’t sell her body to every single man she sees out there. That’s more than I can say for a certain mother that I know.

“Why the hell do you look as if a panda sat on your face?” I asked, reaching for my compact in my handbag which I left on the counter the other day.

“Why the fuck do you care, Kellie? It’s my face, isn’t it?” Jacelyn snapped her fingers and her chef, Carrie, paced over to where she was at. “I want an omelet, hold the tomatoes, put in extra cheese and add some spinach in it too.”

Carrie gives a nod before heading over to the stove to start her cooking. “I care because you’re my sister, Jace.”

Jace gives me a sideway glance and raises an eyebrow.

“People will think badly of me if they see my sister looking like a shitface.” I hop off my stool and grab my handbag before Jace starts reacting to my comment. School’s going to start in twenty minutes. I wouldn’t want to be late.

~

“Kellie, you look so hot today!” My girl friend, Cheryl, squeals as she joins the lunch queue behind me.

Some of the people who were already in the queue start complaining but I shoot them a glare which gets them to all shut up.

“Of course she does. When is she ever not?” My other girl friend, Sierra, replies.

I give them both a smile. My girls; they never fail to tell me the truth each day, even if I already know it.

The person in front of me slowly places her order, and it’s all I could do not to start bitch-slapping her right there and then. I’m not one of those anorexic or bulimic sluts who think staying skinny is the key to popularity. Lunch is important to me and I’m already hungry as it is.

She’s still deciding what drink she wants. Goddamn it! “Can you just fucking choose something?” I snarl to the back of her head.

The blonde girl cautiously turns around to face me. Being slow has to be her disorder. I vaguely recognize her as the new girl. Her long blonde-honey hair was tied in two pigtails and her eyes look up at me from her black spectacles. She’ obviously scared of me; her eyes are such a giveaway.

“Excuse me?” She asks softly.

“What are you, deaf? You heard me. Hurry fucking up.” I raise a perfectly-waxed eyebrow up at her. She’s probably retarded.

Her eyes slowly begin scrunching up, as if she had just realized something. I frowned at her. Why the hell isn’t she hurrying up? I’m hungry.

She looks back at me, her expression serious and slightly angry. “You can’t say that to me. I’m not a bloody animal, I’m a human. I should be treated as one!”

What? From the corner of my eye, I catch two of my other friends glance at each other in disbelief. “What did you just say to me?” I question, softly but dangerously, moving my face closer to hers.

She hesitates. “That’s a horrible thing to say to someone. How would you like it if someone curses you like that?”

I sneer at her. I pull away to ask a question. “Cheryl, what’s her name?”

“Sara.”

I nod and turn to ‘Sara’. “What do you think high school actually is, Sara?”

She frowns at me. She doesn’t know where I’m going with this.

“High school isn’t some fucking Disney Channel movie.” I snap at her. She visibly cringes away from me. “You think I’ll back down just because what I’m doing isn’t ‘nice’? I won’t, Sara. I rule this school. I can say whatever I want. You can’t.”

The fear returns to her eyes. I take that as a cue to continue. The cafeteria has turned deathly quiet to observe the speech that I’m about to give. “You, being new, are not excused for the mistake of going against the Queen Bee. If you really are retarded as I think you are, I’m the Queen Bee. Understood?” I lash out at her.

She whimpers before nodding. Without realizing it, her back’s now against the counter. The cafeteria ladies are staring at me too, mouths hanging wide open. “You have a million things to learn if you want to survive in my school. I suggest you learn them all as soon as you can before you think of doing this kind of shit again.”

I look around the cafeteria. I scan the entire room for what I’m looking for. Everybody’s eyes follow my every moment. The whole room’s now silent because nobody else has uttered a single word since I’ve finished what I had to say (almost, anyway).

My eyes finally land on the Nerd table. “You,” I pointed to a red-headed, braces-wearing, spectacled boy. The boy widens his eyes and points to himself in question. I roll my eyes. “Yes, you. Come here, and make it fast. Don’t waste any more of my time.” I throw Sara a dirty glance and she lowers her eyes to the floor.

The boy clumsily sprints over to where I am. “Yes, ma’am?”

I roll my eyes at him again. “’Ma’am?’ I’m not a drill sergeant, okay? Do I look like one to you, hmm?”

He hurriedly shakes his head. “No, Kellie. I’m sorry.”

“Whatever. I want you to tell her,” I point to Sara without looking at her, “what are the things that I approve and don’t approve of. If she ever crosses me again, she’s not the only one I’ll be looking for. Got it?”

He nods. I wave him away and he grabs Sara’s hand, dragging her out of the cafeteria.

“Finally.” I mutter. The cafeteria, sensing that the drama’s over, decides to start its noise again. I walk over to the front of the line and pick a few of the food items for lunch. I pay for it and head to the center table, with my girls following my lead.

I sit at my usual chair with Cheryl and Sierra next to me, and Vicky and Pamela in front of me.

“Hey, Kellie. Guess what I heard.” Vicky asks softly, a smirk on her lips.

“What? And why the hell are you speaking so softly? I can’t hear you.”

Vicky clears her throat and speaks a bit louder. “Jezebel’s throwing a party later at ten. Her parents are out of town, and it’s an open party. So basically, there’s no such thing as gatecrashers.”

I raise my eyebrow and smile maliciously. “Really now? Who knew the bitch would be so stupid to throw an open party?”

The girls laugh and Vicky smirks. “Exactly. So what, are we going?”

“We wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

~

I knock on the door. The party’s already in full swing. The house is practically bursting with different colored lights flicking around. The music can be heard from like a yard away, and there are enough people in it to fill a shopping mall.

The door swings open to reveal a surprised Jezebel. She looks us over and smirks. “What the hell are you sluts here for? This isn’t where we sell cheap whores, sorry.”

“Oh, Jezebel, I missed you too.” I remarked sarcastically.

“Get the fuck away from my house. Who invited you, anyway?”

“I heard it’s an open party. And anyway, we brought more boys here.” Pamela called the boys that we invited to tag along with us and they appear behind us. They’re all from the football team, hot and stupid.

Jezebel hesitates. “Uh… Right, boys. Well, fine whatever. But watch yourself. You do something I disapprove of, you can get the fuck lost. Deal?”

I shrug and make my way inside the house, leaving Jezebel to flirt with the boys which I know she won’t be able to resist doing.

I walk over to the food table to get a drink with Sierra behind me. The others are already lost in the living room, where it’s being turned into a nightclub.

“Hey there, gorgeous.” A blonde hottie grins and leans against the table, next to me.

“Hey there, hot stuff.” I reply flirtatiously, moving closer to him.

He was just about to place his hand on my waist when somebody taps me on my shoulder. “What?” I whip my head around, irritated.

“I have something important to tell you.” Sierra tells me quietly, but mysteriously.

“What the fuck is it about? Can’t it wait?” The hottie is still grinning at me, as if waiting for me to tell my friend to fuck off and continue my conversation with him.

“It’s about that guy you’re talking to… and Jezebel.”

My eyes immediately widen. Gossip about Jezebel, my favorite topic. I hold up a finger to the boy, motioning him to wait. He nods and gives me a drunken smile.

I drag Sierra to the kitchen where there aren’t too many people. I lean against one of the kitchen counters and cross my arms. “So, talk. What’s up with Hottie mcJock and Jezebel?”

“I heard that she supposedly has a crush on him. I’m not sure if he likes her. I doubt it now, though, since it looked as if he was flirting with you.” I raise an eyebrow. There’s no way Jezebel could have a crush on a boy. She’s the type of person whom would use boys the same way a person uses tissue. Use them and throw them away.

Kind of like me. That’s probably why we never get along well at all. We’re too alike.

Oh, this is HUGE news!

I smirk as a devious plan begins to form in my head. Sierra gives a smirk too, looking at my facial expression. “You’ve got your devil face on. What are you thinking of?”

I continue smirking as I walk away from her and back to Hottie. He, not surprisingly, is still waiting for me. “You’ve kept me waiting for a long time, love.” He accuses.

I smile shyly and hold out my hand for his. He slips his hand in mine and grins at our intertwined hands. I look for Jezebel and find her sitting down in one of the couches, near the front door, keeping a close eye on me and him.

I smirk as I turn back to the boy and press my lips up to his’ harshly. He hesitates, probably out of shock, before trying to pry my lips open.

I eagerly open them and his tongue slides into my mouth. Kissing him doesn’t feel any different from kissing other guys, mostly because they never had any significance in my life.

It isn’t long before I feel someone yanking me off of him. I’m not surprised to see that Jezebel was the one who separated me and him.

“What the fuck…?” Hottie muttered, glaring at Jezebel. I wipe my lips with the back of my hand and smirk at Jezebel.

“Hey there, Jezzy.”

Her face turns red, so red it looks as if she’s about to burst. “Get the FUCK out of my house, you cheap whore!” She screams at me. The music instantly stops and the whole room stares at us.

I shrug. “Whatever.” I wriggle my fingers as a sign of goodbye to my make-out buddy and snap my fingers to call my girls. I sashay across the ‘dance floor’ and leave through the front door.

One of my girls slams the door behind her as we walk out of Jezebel’s house. I sigh in content. Another day, another boy. Can life get any better?