I'm the most popular girl at school...and I'm in love with the bad boy?! \\-t-w-o-\\ foundation and double meanings \\

I sat in Chem class staring holes into the board while my hands moved with rapid precision as I struggled to take down notes. The teacher was talking more than writing or demonstrating and this particular teacher hardly paused long enough for a breath. Chemistry was a struggle for Stacy but as long as she paid attention and studied she was scraping B+ and sometimes an A or two. Her handwriting was a terrible mess but still legible to her, she had perfected the art of rapid short notes. Once she got home she would re-read everything, hop over to the public library and type a longer version of her notes and then print it out and pay with the little money she had. She typed almost as fast as she talked lucky for her so the process took about an hour each subject.

Stacy was very glad none of her clique were in the class with her. After all this was Advanced Chemistry. She hardly spread the word but Stacy was an honor roll student. She knew that if she was going to pull herself and her brother out of the misery they lived in she was going to have to secure a scholarship. There was no way she could afford to go to university without one. Even a halfscholarship would help. That was why she had been taking online SAT mock exams at the library and had basically swallowed every SAT book in creation ever since freshman year. Now in senior year she was sure she was ready for the SAT, which was looming ever closer.

Taking a break on account of her aching wrist Stacy scanned the class for a familiar face or two. No one she knew. Just the usual bunch who took Advanced classes with her. One of them, an artsy looking girl with short blonde hair was staring at Stacy herself.

'Is there something on my forehead...?' Stace wondered to herself, why else would this girl look at her like that? Like Stace was out of this world.

The girl was a seat behind Stace in the next row. Pulling out a piece of paper from her notebook Stacy scribbled a question on it.

Hey, you ok? You seem a little spacy. Do you need to go to the nurse or something?


Folding the note neatly she quickly tossed it to the girl. The artsy girls eyes widened to the size of little moons as she stared at the folded note on her table. She looked back at Stacy and mouthed something.

"Who should I pass it to?" She asked.

"No one silly, its for you." Stacy said with a small smile.


The artsy girl looked incredibly disbelieving but she opened up the note anyway. She read it and then read it again...and again. After a silent pause she looked back at Stacy with hate and tears brimming from her eyes.


"What is this!?" She demanded her voice rising into a squeaky pitch. The teacher stopped explaining and the whole class turned to look. "Isn't it enough what I have to endure from you people?! Now you are trying to trick me into thinking your nice so you can hurt me even more?! I hate you!" She cried vehemently.


Stacy was mortified for an instant and then realisation dawned on her. How could she think the girl would warm up to her? Here was Stacy queen of the highschool with her bunch of bitchy friends that put down anyone that wasn't them. The fact that Stacy never engaged in any of the verbal abuse did not change anything. Everyone naturally thought she was behind it all just keeping quiet and having her hounds do the dirty work.


Stacy just closed her books before the teacher could say anything. Grabbed the note from the artsy girl and walked out of class. If she had tried to apologise to the girl it would only make things worse. She felt the beginnings of tears in her own eyes and darted into the girls bathroom.


"Thats you. A worthless piece of shit with nothing going for her. You look like crap, you have brains the size of an ants and you will go nowhere in life!" Kyle's mothers voice rattled in Stacy's mind as locked herself in a cubicle.


"No..no...that's not true..I'm pretty, I know I am. I'm smart, very smart..." She choked out in a small whisper as the voice continued to attack her.


"If you were smart you little bitch you wouldn't have to stay up till one in the morning going over notes would you!? Smart people don't even need to study you're an idiot with a good memory!" The voice ranted.


"Please stop...please...I am smart...even though I have to study....please..." She continued pleading to the voice until it faded away and left her in peace.


Slumped against the back of the toilet Stacy willed herself not to cry. It took all her strength not to burst into tears. She had decided long ago never to cry because of what her stepmom did. She swallowed the abuse and went on with her life. Crying did not help anyone. It had been years since she'd cried real tears. Oh fake tears spilled out every now and then when a boyfriend split up with her. The only tears she allowed were fake ones. Even when she got horrible test scores she kept them with her as a reminder to do better next time and she swallowed her dissapointment.


It was sheer willpower and love for her little brother that kept Stacy going. She could have killed herself and escaped this hell ages ago but then Kyle would have no escape. Stacy was glad for the little boy, if anything kept her head high it was him. His bright smile when she came home and his tight hugs when she was feeling bad. When his mother was angry at him Stacy wouldn't let the evil woman touch Kyle, Stacy herself would take the beating to spare her little brother. All that mattered to her was giving him the best future she could, and that meant not feeling sorry for herself. It meant that no matter how bad things seemed she had to pull through. For him.


Her feelings under control she mentally stuffed them away in a little corner and walked out of the bathroom cubicle. She had no idea how much time had passed, a quick check at her wristwatch told her that chemistry was nearly over.


Stacy looked at herself in the bathroom mirror. Dark circles under here eyes, a fading bruise here and there and a few fresh ones were visible. Pulling out foundation and concealer she did her best to cover everything up. Within minutes she looked picture perfect again. Sometimes the bruises got so bad not even makeup could hide them, that's when she took a break off school and hung out at the library going over the lessons she had missed.


The library was her home away from him. The librarian had grown to like the beautiful girl that was there every single day of the week. On weekends she would let Stacy sneak in even though the library was meant to be closed. The librarian knew very little about Stacy's life but she knew enough to know that something was very wrong with the girl. Any girl that beautiful should be out partying with her friends or at a mall or a social gathering or two. Not at a run down library. Stacy and the librarian had formed a sort of bond over the years and the woman had a caring motherly nature that Stacy was dearly lacking in her life. Occasionally the librarian would take her out for some coffee or icecream and they would talk for ages. Stacy was grateful she had such a stable person in her life, someone who was older than her but not by much. Someone who knew how hard it was for a teenager, someone who knew how hard it would get in university and someone who was willingly sharing her time, knowledge and advice with Stacy.


Stacy grabbed her books off the counter and walked out of the bathroom. She had math next. The only class that was not advanced. Her math was terrible and it brought her whole GPA down but in Standard classes she did alright. Also the only class she shared with the rest of her clique. Re-checking her makeup in a compact mirror she opened up her locker and stuck her chem books in. A little black shoulder bag was inside as well, it was where she kept all her really valuable things. Little trinkets she bought herself, a portable tape player, a lot of tapes of her favourite bands, a scrap book where she stuck a few pictures and newspaper clippings, and a little journal where she scribbled a few poems and stories down. Her most prised things, all of them inexpensive and affordable. The only things she was very ashamed to show her friends. They all thought she had an ipod instead of a meagre little tape player. As if she could afford an ipod.


Pulling out her mathbooks she closed the locker and headed towards her class. Her compact mirror re-emerged as she rechecked her makeup once more. Stacy knew she hardly needed the makeup, she looked a lot better without it actually, but she also knew it was the only thing hiding her bruises and scars. She had cut her lip once when her stepmother had punched her while wearing a ring with a glass diamond on it. The fake jewel had split her lip pretty badly but generous applications of red lipstick fixed that. It hurt like hell to put lipstick over the burning wound but she managed somehow. Now the wound was healed but it left behind a little white scar that she hid with lipgloss.


Stacy waited outside the class for the bell to ring. As she stood there twirling a silver ring around her finger she noticed someone from the corner of her eye. Turning to look she saw a guy walking down the hall. From this distance all she could determine was that he was very tall, a little on the lean side and dressed all in black. His hair was also black and extremely messy. Odd strands stuck out here and there. All in all he looked like someone her clique would love to put down. Also someone the football jocks would love to bully. Turning her head away from him she wondered who the hell he could be. Was he a new kid or did some nerd from last year transform into that specimen of a badboy? She watched him closely from the corner of her eye, he didn't walk he sauntered. As if he owned the world and had all the time possible on his hands. She gave a small smile, the football jocks would be hardpressed to terrorise this guy.


As he got closer she could see his clothes a little better. Black jeans that had seen better days. A chain dangling from belt to pocket, probably connected to his wallet, a tight black muscle shirt that showed off his physique with a red button up shirt over it and a leather jacket. Stacy nearly burst out into laughter, he sure was unique and bold to wear a leather jacket to school. His shoes made odd clicking sounds a quick glance showed why, they were practically drownning in steel those big boots of his.


Apart from his clothes she couldn't make anything else out. She would have been able to if she was looking directly at him but she was not about to do such a thing. Her friends would strangle her alive if they found her talking to someone who looked like that.


"'Ey there love, know where the principles office is?" He asked.


Stacy's eyes shot up and she realised he was standing right in front of her. She had been daydreaming so much she didn't notice it at all. Immediately she transformed her features to the pompous prissy queen bee that everyone knew she was. Her mouth set itself into a practiced little pouty sneer and her eyes narrowed condescendingly. The whole effect made her bruises and cuts hurt terribly but she brushed the pain off.


His accent she noticed was very unusual, it sounded English but she couldn't be sure. She had a few english friends and they didn't sound like that. The way he pronounced things was english but it was...strange.


"Down the hall, take a left." Stacy replied in a tone that would have anyone running for the hills. She sounded more like she was cussing him out than giving directions.


"Someone's got a twig up their arse this mornin, havin a bad day love?" He said while his own sneer formed.


"Well it was pretty good before you showed up." She snapped not really knowing why she was being bitchy to this guy. "And stop calling me 'love' I am not your 'love'." She added for effect.


"Not a twig a whole bloody tree." He muttered with a small chuckle, "Alright then love I'll be seeing you."


Stacy didn't bother replying she simply checked her wristwatch and waited for him to leave. He didn't.


"Planning on standing here all day?" She asked in a tight tone.


"Watch your tone love I eat barbies like you for desert." He laughed and then sauntered away.


Stacy felt the blush and thanked the foundation she had on. The double meaning of the sentance had her nearly sputtering. If it werent for her natural tan and layers of foundation her face would be beet red. Glaring at his retreating back she gave a start when the bell rang, math time.



To the results! Rate while you're there it's sort of tedious when people read and dont rate >.< at least show me some appreciation?
Stacy just had her first encounter with the badboy she would fall hopelessly in love with. Tune in next time for part three ^.^


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