Cheers to "Friends"

“Flipping Hell Joy! Stop Walking!” I huffed as I caught up with the 5ft girl that possessed long-fair hair, whom was now tapping her foot, waiting expectantly for me.

“So what did the parents say?” I questioned. In process of regaining my breath after running from the P.E. hall all the way to our study.

“They said….YES! Ohmigod Tara I’m so excited. Me in America! For the first time! I’ve never even left this fricking Country! ” she squealed.

Joy Kerwin was the closest to real a real friend that I possessed. Unlike the rest she didn’t follow anyone, nor was she rude just for the sake of being cool. She wasn’t a sycophant either; but she wasn’t a perfect friend. She had her flaws, and that’s what I couldn’t get over. That was my problem. Due to the fact that I search for the “perfect” friend, no one ever comes up to my standards. Maybe I just have high expectations. Or it’s because I hang out with the wrong people initially. Coming to think about it, I think I did have one friend that I could probably tell anything to. But we split, after we left Prep school. I think she’s the only person I could call my friend, because she wasn’t afraid to speak her mind to me, and I wasn’t afraid to pour each and every detail of my life to her. I saw flaws in her too, but none seemed to bother me. It’s not like how I am now, if I see anything that I don’t like, I automatically wonder why I am there, with that person. And that goes for everyone, including Joy Kerwin.

Well, by now I should introduce myself. I’m Tara Simms, your basic average-joe. 16. 5ft 9. Brown Hair. Brown Eyes, though I like to trick myself into thinking that I’m one of the special people; with the deep green/brown eyes. The only thing that’s slightly exotic about me, Is that I’m from New York, and have a heritage of Lebanese and Chinese. But the New York part gets thrown straight out the window, when I’m actually there.

I have “friends”, but all are complete idiotic morons, narrow minded whores, and complete bitches. So you can basically say I’m a loner, though not your average loner. I hang with them, but usually remain silent, to scrutinize them even more. I don’t tend to judge people, but after hanging out with them for a while I tend to see what they’re really about. And since I came to Millfield, in Brighton, I’ve realized that all these people here are all what I hate. Ok, well that’s a little bit of an over assumption. But a majority of people, ok, people that I’m stuck with are really the people I can’t stand.

At the end of my space out, I found ourselves nearing to the cafeteria. With realization overcoming me I hurled out, “Ohmigod! I can see us at Warped Tour, with me macking off with Alex Gaskarth on stage, after him singing “The Party Scene!” With that comment, Joy went off at a rant about my boy loving ways, with the usual “Dude, do you realize how many years he’s older than you?...” Whilst she went on about one of her trademark speeches about guys in bands; I listened intently. Until I realized we were nearly at the hot table. That’s when I guess Kane, the guy in front noticed my tummy was grumbling. With a smirk on his face, he lifted two plates placing one in my hands. Accompanied with this gesture was a smile, and as a great of a flirt I am, I stared up in to his blue-grey eyes for a few seconds, dumbfounded. Until I tried to muster a smile, though it was a failure, so instead I muttered a “Thank You” whilst gawking at the floor.

Kane Dawson, what can I say about him? Other than the fact that I’ve never really spoken to him he seemed to have everything that I didn’t. The cool best-friends he could joke around with. The way he was so smooth with the girls, and I bet he wasn’t even that bad in school. Well I know he wasn’t that bad in school, as me and him were both trying out for the all-rounder scholarship, and managed to get it. He wasn’t that bad looking either. No. Scratch that. Who am I joking? He is gorgeous. He had that whole messy look going down, with the eyes that really did confuse you for a few seconds. And his height, man was he tall. That’s what I look for in guys, their height, hair, and eyes.

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“Late night, brakes lock, hear the tires squeal

Red light, can’t stop so I spin the wheel

My world goes black before I feel an angel lift me up

And I open bloodshot eyes into fluorescent white

Flip the siren; hit the lights, close the door and I am-”

“Tara,” Sara said as she interrupted my singing whilst I was at the computer typing up my English essay. With that, I spin around in my swivel chair, and give a huge grin like I always do.

Ah Sara Sabes, the sycophant. The sponger. The Bitch. Sara was almost the worst out of the whole group. She’s the type of girl whom will think of nasty things, and if she isn’t scared of you will say it, no matter how much it will make you hurt. To tell you the truth, the first time I came to this school, we became friends, but I soon found out that with whatever favor I asked her, she would ask for a bigger one in return. Such hurtful comments would be thrown at me from her that I sometimes found myself wasting tears that I barely ever shed for her. Maybe I was weak. I don’t know. But even though she’s gone off of me like out-of-date milk, she still sometimes comes back to me. Like this mighty fine day.

“Yes?”

“Can I see the present that you got for Anna?”

“Oh yeah!” I walked over to my cupboard and reached for a badly wrapped box, with that that I placed it on my bed, and pried it open to see a pearl necklace and bracelet. I was quite chuffed with myself with those, as they weren’t very expensive, but definitely looked like a million bucks. Sara on the other hand was less than impressed than I was, and with a scowl, she lifted them both up. Gazing at them intently.

“You know Anna told me that she hates necklaces” she stated, with that I could feel myself boiling over.

“You told me to get that,” I said as I gritted my teeth.

“I know, I’m just telling you though, how much was it?”

“I don’t know Belle’s dad bought it.” She started at me knowingly for a second.

“Did you buy anything else with it?” With that comment I walked over to my second cupboard and opened a draw inside it to reveal an old blue book.

“An Almanac on Sports?” she scoffed

“Belle’s parents thought it would be funny.”

Sara opened the book flicking through the pages, until she got to the very first page, where she stopped. “You better erase the £5” with that she walked with a sway and type of coolness to her, that didn’t add up well with her thick glasses, and wide nose.

At that point, I put all the gifts away, and sat down at my desk, and scribbled away in my notebook.

Begrudgingly

“I’ve succumb to the realization that I am your slave driver. I don’t even like Anna or you, and I still did this for you. Why the hell do you have to be such a whore about it? If you wanted the present to your lover to be so perfect why you fucking don’t go get it, instead of asking me. It’s your own fault so don’t blame your mistakes on me.”

With that I closed the green notebook and shoved it into my backpack, ready for the next lesson.