Robbie

__ California __ Chapter 1: This Is Me (This isn't the full thing. Just a part of it; I'm still working on it.) I sat on top of the metal lunch table, my arms crossed, leaning forwards. Across from me, sitting on the actual picnic bench of his table, Christian looked at me, smiling with a can of soda in his hand. It was lunch time, and most of the kids were already going inside. Here, it was the four of us: Christian, our friends Kate and Russell, and I. We had always been friends, since kindergarten. Normally, Christian would be swarmed around by a bajillion girls from the school, mostly those preppy cheerleaders, but the school was slamming down on them about grades. “Anyone got a cigarette?” Kate asked, looking across from our table to Russell, her current boyfriend. He pulled one out and lit it for her, then handed it to her. I instantly smacked it from her hands, then got down and stomped on it with my leather boot. “The Hell, Chloe?” “I thought you quit smoking,” I grunted, sitting back down on the table. A gust of wind went by, and I hugged the small bolero jacket to me and readjusted my belt. My outfit was fashionable clothing by the “popular” kids’ standards, but horrible according to them simply because I was the one wearing them. “I’m not prepared to be visiting you in the hospital someday because you killed your lungs.” Christian laughed once, and zipped up his leather jacket. It was studded, and looked great, per the usual for his clothing. No wonder those damn cheerleaders swarmed around him like flies to honey… or something like that. I grunted again, and stood up. I was planning on heading inside, but then turned around to see the three of them still sitting there. “I’m heading to class.” They nodded, and I stormed off, almost mad that they wouldn’t come, towards the school which was across the basketball court from here. I passed by everything, my boots clacking on the cement, and walked towards the side entrance of the seemingly giant school. Inside, the air turned even colder than outside, prompting me to hurry to my locker to get my heavier jacket. “Oh, hey, Chloe,” a familiar voice sneered. Suddenly, my foot hit something, and I found myself flying through the air and landing with a thud. Okay, so maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration; I was tripped. End of that. “Olivia,” I grunted, standing up, the chain belt of mine rattling. “What do you want now?” “To persuade you into giving me what you own,” she laughed, backed by her fellow sheep AKA her “friends”. “Eventually, Christian’s going to realize that I’m the only thing good for him, and that you’re only dragging his popularity down.” She flicked a bit of her brown hair back, and then put her hands on her hips. “Oh, go to Hell,” I groaned, and walked down the seemingly endless hallway to my locker. I played around with the lock, and opened up the blue door, grabbed my black jacket, and slammed the door shut. There, Olivia still stood. “Oh, Olivia, how’s Jake doing? Did he pull a Chris Brown on you again?” One of the two cheerleaders behind Olivia, a redhead, laughed as Olivia pulled down one of her sleeves. She frowned, then looked angry. Very angry. I walked away, laughing, and then ran into my History class as she started storming towards me.

Preface: Abuse & Hatred Christian was my life. Christian was everything I had ever wanted. Good-looking, athletic, popular, and absolutely amazing. He was my world, and all the cheerleaders in the school worshipped the ground he walked on. Olivia Evans was everything I hated. She was Satan, she was my kryptonite. She was my ing bane. I hated her, and everything about her, especially considering the fact that she had taken Christian, my soul, away from me. I fantasized again. About Christian, about him hugging me, about him holding me, telling me he loved me. Everything I loved about him… “Chloe!” The force of Jake’s strong hand slapping me across the face brought my back to reality, back to what I was stuck with, but what I could no longer deal with. I sat on the bed, the brass-framed bed of his, in his room, in his house. His parents, as usual, were not home. They were often at work, always doing something that didn’t involve him. Jake Mendez was rejected and unloved by his parents. I sat there, just crying my eyes out as he yelled at me. Suddenly, he shoved me backwards, and I rolled off of the bed onto the floor on the other side, facing the wall with peeling paint. “Get up…” he growled, looming over me. I scrambled through the small space between the bed and the wall, and stood up in front of him. Still, standing at 5’7”, I was still shorter than him. He towered over me, seeming to be about 2 feet taller, though he really was only 6’3”. He ran his fingers through his short, spiky black hair, and then leaned down to kiss me on the cheek, the first kind gesture he’d given me all day that wasn’t fake for the public. Blonde, petit and pixie-like Chloe Hoffman dating tall, tanned, athletic Jake Mendez, the homewrecking abuser. I leaned back to lay on the bed, and scrambled under the thick comforter, scared of him and all he wanted. In the false safety of the blanket, I continued to cry, crying my heart out, weeping for Christian to come back to me.