Most girls know about the social order in school. There are the preps, middle class normals, and then there are the dorks. I just so happen to fall into the dork category ever since the third grade when I suddenly decided the oboe was cooler then lacrosse. The preps never forgave me. It also might have something to do with the fact that I am best friends with the class goody two shoes. I mean, isn’t it completely normal for a girl to protest every weekend for the rights of some poor defenseless animal being brutally tested for some Maybelline product? Or for her to refuse to use toilet paper because she believes that it would offend the trees to know that they died to clean our butts? Well, maybe for my friend Annie, but for a normal teenager, it’s not.
So as you can imagine, Annie and I undergo a lot of torment throughout the school day. Especially from the evil Hannah who horribly attacks both of us at random times throughout the day.
Hannah is the kind of girl you naturally hate. First, she has this Nicole Kidman look going for her. You know, so pale that from a distance she is mistaken for an oversize porcelain doll? And her hair is so blond its white. Hannah’s legs are unnaturally long giving her a Barbie appeal. Her boobs are unnaturally large as well giving her attention from the male persuasion.
It’s wrong to hate a person solely on appearance, but I hate Hannah Saunders on other things as well. It has been rumored that she is the devils spawn, if that is any indication how incredibly evil she is. And the devil has given her explicit instructions to make me want to wring her neck around ten times a day. There have been countless occasions when Hannah had pulled practical jokes on me. She doesn’t even attempt to posses stealth when she tricks me. Everyone knows that she was the one who stuck bubble gum in my hair causing me to get a French bob. Although teachers and parents seem to not notice Hannah flagging me in the parking lot and simply assume that I need to purchase more belts.
My hate for Hannah burns deep inside my chest 24/7. I don’t know where the hate came from really. For as long as I can remember I’ve hated her from the inside out. The dislike is mutual of course. I have been the subject to Hannah’s hatred and devilishness since before the oboe became cool. Some people say that she hates me because I beat her in the Little Miss Fredrick County Beauty Competition when we were five. To tell you the truth I don’t understand how I could have beat her. I mean, Hannah does look like a life size Barbie and I look like, well, normal. I have auburn hair that curls softly to the middle of my back. My eyes are shaped like bright blue almonds. My only remotely attractive feature are my endless legs. Beside that I look normal. But you’d think a person would get over that after eleven years right? Not Hannah!
Today I had that feeling though. That feeling you get right before something insanely good happens, but you have no idea what it could possibly be. I had that same feeling the day Kevin Charles, a tuba player in my band class, kissed me at the bus stop. And the time that I won free pizza for a year from the school cafeteria. But both of those things I can honestly say were something I wanted and hoped would happen. Today, I couldn’t think of anything I could have wanted or hope to happen. Well, beside the fact that I could be elected to the homecoming court or suddenly have to power to be capable of spelling words over four letters. The likely hood of either of those things happening was practically slim to none.
Anyway, I get off the school bus and head into my high school only to find my favorite person standing at the entrance.
“Hey Lillianna!” Hannah shouted as I passed her.
“What?” I grumble as I turn to face her.
“Come over here for a sec!” She shouts beckoning me to her.
Knowing that this would be some practical joke only for the amusement for Hannah and her clan I simply role my eyes and say, “No thanks Hannah, I think I’ll pass.”
“Aw come on Lillianna!” She keeps going. “Come and talk to us!”
I turn around and stare at her. “Hannah, you must be completely retarded to believe that I’m naive enough to come talk to you. If I go over there I’ll probably walk into school with some miscellaneous object super glued to my back.”
“You know me well,” Hannah snickers and snaps her fingers.
Next thing I knew a swarm of green and gold cheerleaders were rushing towards me. A couple minutes later I walk into school covered in sticky notes. A typical Hannah prank. Naturally, none of the teachers had noticed the cheerleaders attack me with sticky notes.
“What happened to you?” Annie asks when I approach my locker.
“Hannah attacked me with sticky notes,” I reply as I dump the contents of my backpack in my locker.
“Sticky notes can make your hair stick out like that?” She asks.
“When the evil Hannah is involved they can,” I say.
“True that!” Annie laughs. “Remember that time when she stuck play doe in my hair?”
I told her I did.
“And then my hair turned a strange shade of purple for three days?” Annie giggles. Annie has blond hair like Hannah so her hair is always subject to coloration.
I left my locker and headed towards AP Bio when I bump into something that felt like rock right in the middle of the hall way.
“Whoa!” The rock shouts and starts gathering my books as I regain my balance. “My bad.”
I look up and see my crush Max. Max has been the subject of my love interest since the ninth grade when we were in home economics together. Unlike most jocks, Max notices my existence. Not that he really likes me. I’ve always thought I annoyed him to no end until this year when he actually talks to me without jokingly insulting me. Annie is convinced he likes me because he’ll sneak up on me in the hallway and sometimes we’d walk to class together. I wish that were true, but I know Max has always liked popular, bubbly, jock girls. Which is the opposite of me.
Throughout all of his jokes aimed at me, I’ve always really liked Max. He’s around six feet tall with red hair and dazzling blue eyes. His smile is really what I like him for. It makes me want to smile. Plus, he always smells nice, which is strange. For a boy I mean.
“Sorry,” I apologize.
“It’s okay,” Max smiles down at my five foot four frame. His eyes were so enticing I had to look away. It was if he were drilling a hole into my soul.
“What class do you have first?” He asks me handing me my notebook.
“AP Biology,” I tell him. “You have it with me remember.”
“Right.” He smiles again. It’s hard not to smile back at him.
“Max!” I hear a shrill voice screech behind me. “What are you doing with that.” I look up and see the evil Hannah.
“Talking to Lillianna,” He says.
“Why?” She puts her hand on her hips and stare at him with her mouth opened making her look incredibly stupid. But that’s not hard for Hannah. She is a blond after all.
“Because I like her,” He says glancing over at me and flashes me a grin. I feel myself blush despite how much I told myself not to.
“No one likes Lillianna!” Hannah snorts. “She plays the oboe!”
“Don’t worry Hannah,” I jump in. “I wouldn’t be capable from stealing your precious Max from you.”
“I wasn’t worried,” Hannah shoots a look at me that only a demon could conjure up.
“What does it matter to you anyway Hannah?” Max asks.
“I just don’t think she is worth your time,” Hannah says linking her arm around his. “Why have her when you could have me or my friends?” She looked up into his blue eyes with her larger ones. Despite me obvious affection for him, Max and Hannah would make an incredible couple. But their kids would be too pretty to look at.
Max unlinks their arms and looks right at me. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something for a long time Lillianna.” He looks very serious. Max never looks serious unless it has to do with sports or school.
“Uh..” I gulp and glance at Hannah who was clearly fuming and ready to rip my head off any second.
“Will you go to homecoming with me?” Only then does he smile that smile I swoon over.
“MAX!” Hannah shrieks and she looks at me with pure hatred in her eyes.
“I guess,” I say.
Max smile only broadens and to my shock he takes my hand.
“Oh my God!” Hannah stomps in front of me. “You steal everything from me!”
“Hannah,” Max sighs. “I never liked you.”
Hannah looked like she could have slit my throat right there. She mutters some very colorful language and storms off in the other direction.
Sometimes, life throws strange things at you. Things you never see coming. It’s like football really. Sometimes you get tackled (like Hannah attacking you with sticky notes). And other times you score a touch down. (like Max admitting he likes me in front of the most evil, conniving, and beautiful girl in school.) And all the time stuff gets thrown at you from all directions. You never know what your going to get.