Cant sit with us

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1. Rene

I shook out my curls from behind my ears and sat a little straighter, smiling wanly at the girls. (Even though they had my back through everything, I couldn't help feel like I had to be perfect to fit in). "Stop studying and come sit with us," Louise drawled, draping herself over my work in a way that made her look more like an art piece than a school girl. She'd love to hear that, her biggest love was art, which anyone could guess just from the look of her. Her messy bun, the kooky outfits, down to her paint splattered fingers that could punch out a van gogh in ten minutes flat. Even her small nose and long eyelashes made her look like an art piece.

"yeah, come sit," Saffron muttered, interrupting my comparison of Louise and an oil painting, with all the enthusiasm of someone sitting a five hour exam on how to sharpen a pencil. Bitch, I cursed silently, imagining throwing daggers at the bronzed beauty perched on top of my hard work. "Actually, this is kind of important," I huffed, wrenching my work from under her stupidly toned thighs.

Well, sort of important. "What test are you even revising for?" Ems giggled, pulling at her cat print mini skirt. It wasn't even that funny- why did she have to giggle at everything? What was the point? I know she's cute, I know she's adorable but what people didn't know is that she's very, very annoying. "Biology," I sighed at them, as though it was the most boring thing in the world. Louise pulled a face that I presumed matched mine.

Honestly- I didn't even have an exam, it was just general revision. Which was important, I mean, Jonathon only scored one below me in out last quiz! How was that even possible? I needed to be top of the class every time otherwise I may as well live in greenrow forever, and forget about Harvard! I was resolute, I was staying. My education was far more important than...

"What evs. Just ditch and eat lunch with the normal people," Mel's sighed in her monotone voice. I cringed in my seat a little; did I really look like a weirdo on my own? No, she didn't mean it, she just wasn't very tactful, I told myself. But even so, I couldn't help but hurriedly pack my books away into my Cambridge satchel. I am normal I, once again, told myself fiercely, but a small part of me whispered something entirely different. Instead of paying attention to that small voice I concentrated on packing up my bag in a confident manner (As stupid as it seems, I couldn't help but notice how the other girls always packed their bags gracefully whilst I just shoved everything in).

"Finally" Saffron, moaned, looking at me like it pained her to do so. I ignored her and we got up to leave the warm confines of the school library. Slinging my bag over my shoulder neatly, my reading glasses (the ones I'd quickly tore of my face upon seeing the girls) fell to the ground. To most people it wouldn't matter, but to me, it was just one more occasion where I was one step behind the others. Not as cool, not as confident, not as perfect. Crouching down to retrieve my glasses I stared enviously at my friends.

You could even tell from the way they walked that they were popular! Saffron, in her St Trinians- meets-prostitute-meets-slag get up, sauntered like she was a goddess... Which most boys thought she was... which she thought she was. With her long slim limbs, lioness hair and pouty lips... Who wouldn't?

Then their was Ems, typically gorgeous Asian, petite, slanting cheek bones and wide eyes, whom walked like a small bird about to take flight. And Louise, she was my best friend. She walked in a floaty manner that gave the impression of a ghost.

And finally Mel's, we all knew she  was the unspoken ring leader. She didn't need to dedicate her time to extra-curricular, or revision. With her mum being a world renowned designer, she already had a job as a model from the day she was born. You could see it in her long confident strides,in the sharpness of her features, the style that oozed from her clothes and her body language. Today she wore skinny jeans, Jeffrey Campbell's and a white faux-fur coat; every inch an off-duty model. I mentally took note as usual but knew it was pointless.

I wore strictly black with the odd pair of brown brogues or white lace trim, I walked inconspicuously and looked like an old school teacher. The ones than wrote on chalk boards and used the cane... Which is probably why everyone I saw gave me a wide berth. Trying my best to walk like Mel's had, I hurried after them. To be with the normal people.

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