05 | New Enemies

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Hey guys! This is who I envision these characters as when I'm writing, in case ya wanted to know :)
Lauren - Britt Robertson
Nathan- Jessey Stevens
Luke- Ansel Elgort
Stephanie- Kerri Russel
Bailey- Whitney Cole
Thomas- Beau Mirchoff
Nina- AnnaLynn McCord
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I stared at the outfit laid out on my bed, wondering if it was really an improvement than my sweatshirts and converse. After the party, I spent the rest of the weekend watching Netflix or painting, after a lengthy phone call to Stephanie as I scolded her for disappearing at the party. My confidence seemed to be primarily alcohol driven, because when I woke up Sunday morning, I began doubting my ability to pull off this entire thing.

But, as I stare at the clothes I never would've picked out for myself before, all I can hear is Thomas' voice telling me I'm invisible. That I'm not worth the trouble. And that's what gets me to change into the cream colored, silk tank top with an almost-too-deep v-neck, dark washed ripped jeans so tight they feel like a second skin, and a pair of black heeled boots that laced up all the way up to my knee.

I woke up a whole hour earlier than normal to do my makeup like Stephanie taught me, trying my hardest to make the winged eyeliner precise. My hair was in natural blonde waves, and when I was finally finished, I raced downstairs and into my car before I could change my mind. During my ride to school, I prepared myself for all the attention I'd be getting today: something I wasn't used to at all. Stephanie's words of advice from yesterday rang in my hand: Keep your head held high, chin up, and don't let anyone make you feel inferior.

So, when I pulled into the school parking lot, I decided to do exactly that. Instead of parking in the back of the lot like I normally did, I pulled into one of the spaces in the front of the lot, where people were nearby littering around the entrance to school. Taking a deep breath, I caught my reflection in the rear view mirror, and took one last look at myself from behind my favorite pair of Aviators before muttering to myself, "Here goes nothing."

Everything went in slow motion when I stepped out of my car. The second my first black boot touched the ground, I changed my expression into one of indifference. I slung my backpack over one shoulder and shut my car door before I started walking toward the front doors of the school with my head held high. Confidently, I upheld an alarmingly cool expression on my face as I walked, very aware of the attention I had already gained in a matter of seconds.

I could see the scattered group of kids waiting outside as they turned their attention to me, some silencing as I passed, and others whispering feverishly. I saw eyes widen, mouths move quickly, girls gossip, guys wolf whistle, and jaws drop, but none of it slowed my steady pace as I strut confidently into school. Once I got inside, the attention didn't cease, but increased tenfold.

"Who is she?"

"Is she new?"

"Dude, look at the hot new chick."

"Is that Lauren Collins?"

"She looks like a slut."

"She looks sexy."

I ignore the whispers and stares as they follow me down the hallway. My heart was racing, thumping carelessly against my chest, but I gave no sign outwardly to my discomfort. Instead, I pretended like I didn't notice the intensity of everyone's stares, and took my sunglasses off as I reached my locker.

When I stopped in front of my locker, I saw Brendan Donahue and Lisa Scott making out against it before class, which was a normal occurrence. After all, Brendan's locker was next to mine, but why make out on your own locker when you can do it against someone else's? Usually, I just waited for them to finish so Lisa didn't snap at me, but today was different.

As I took my sunglasses off slowly, I dangled them in my fingers, sighing as the couple continued to make out. "Move."

My voice sounded so confident and collected that I hardly recognized it as my own. Apparently, neither did Brendan or Lisa, because they broke up immediately and stared at me with a dumbfounded expression. I raised an impatient eyebrow as they continued to stare at me, and to my utter surprise, they actually move out of the way.

Lisa's wide eyes are glued to me as I step forward and put in the combination, then grab a few books from inside. The couple is deadly silent as they watch me incredulously, and I pretend not to notice their stares burning a hole through the side of my head. Instead of squirming under their gaze- they are popular, after all, which is why I avoided them before- I shut the door and turn to look at them.

"Is there something wrong?" I ask assertively, sure my chin was lifted as I looked down at Lisa.

Her cheeks flush as she mumbles lamely, "Sorry," and looks away abruptly.

The corners of my lips quick up, but I push away a smile at her expense and nod instead. People were milling around in the hallways, but it felt especially crowded in the East Wing of the school today. I turned around and quickly realized why: everyone was staring at me. It was as if the news traveled so quick, that people had to see it with their own eyes. That nobody that was being cheated on by Thomas? She certainly wasn't a nobody anymore.

Time slows as my gaze sweeps the crowd of kids, most of them trying to act like they were in a conversation, despite the fact their eyes kept darting over to me. Some of them were blatant in their staring: boys looked at me hungrily, and the more popular girls glared in jealousy. It was insane what clothes and an attitude could do: in one weekend I went from being that random girl that was briefly associated with Thomas to the most interesting thing in school.

Although I looked fearless as I walked past the gaping, wide eyed students, I was starting to feel nervous about my arrival to my first class. My brother's best friend, Cole Russo, shared first period with me. He had given Luke a ride to school today, so I didn't see either of them as a newly changed woman. It would be my first test: I couldn't tell him what I was really doing with the social experiment, but instead had to play off my abrupt change.

My heels click on the marble floors of the classroom as I enter, and everybody's gaze snap up to look at me. Students are scattered in their seats around the room who had been doing work or talking in groups, but everyone took their turn in looking up to see the good girl turned bad standing there. The entire room went silent for a brief moment when I entered, only to be followed by familiar whispers as I started toward the back of the room.

I had always been the student to sit in the front of the class, but that changed the second I implemented the change. Instead of knowing all the watchful eyes were on me in the front row, I took shelter in the back row, sitting a few seats in to be surrounded by empty chairs. Shortly after I settled into my seat, I hear the drop of a backpack beside me, and a shadow suddenly loomed over my desk. Looking up, I made eye contact with Cole, to see him staring at me in shock.

In an attempt to be nonchalant, I acknowledge him casually with my typical, "Morning, Cole," and successfully ignore the elephant in the room.

His big brown eyes slide off my gaze and linger a little too long on the v-neck of my tank top before he looks back up, his jaw still dropped. Cole studies my face for a moment before he responds. "You look... Wow."

Cole complimenting me, unlike all the other boys in my school, is something that I'm used to. I'm his best friends older sister; we were always close in age, and he was always hanging around. Luke constantly used to warn me about Cole's minor crush on me, but we both knew it wasn't serious. My brothers best friend was off limits; and, even though he was cute, I didn't even like Cole like that.

Cole had short brown hair that and soft brown eyes and was, admittedly, cute. He used to be on the football team with Thomas, but had always harbored the same type of dislike for him as Luke did and eventually quit. He and Luke were best friends since they were younger, considering we grew up a few doors down from each other, and I had grown to consider him one of my close friends.

"Thanks, Coco." I tease, thankful for the opportunity to talk to someone I'm familiar with. "I think."

He watches me for a second, probably waiting for me to comment on my outfit change, before he does it for me. "What's up with the outfit?"

I decide to play dumb and furrow my brow at him. "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean," Cole deadpans, seeing right through me. "I'm pretty sure this is the first time in our entire friendship I've seen you without your converse on."

I bite the inside of my lip to keep myself from telling him the truth and instead just shrug. "I just wanted a change."

The final bell cuts off any answer he would give me, ricocheting off the walls, just as Mrs. Garrett walks in the door to stand in front of the class. A few students rush in last minute and take the first available seat they see, but not without glancing at the back of the room to get a glimpse of the talk of the school. My teacher calls roll and does a double take when she sees me sitting in the back of the class beside Cole, but doesn't comment on it.

I knew why, too. Cole and I usually exchange hellos and smiles during class, but I always sat up front while he goofed off in the back. Really, we didn't run in the same crowds. Even Luke was more popular than I, thanks to being on the varsity soccer team since his freshman year. We were all friends outside of school, but inside, we rarely crossed paths thanks to our different schedules and friend groups.

I spent most of first to third period lost in my thoughts, forcing myself to walk in a confident stride from class to class. It wasn't until I walked into fourth period, right before lunch, that I encountered the second challenge of the day. And that problem came in the form of Sasha Meyers. As I walk into Calculus, the first thing I see is Sasha, hunched over her notebook, scribbling something down.

My pace slows as I see her, and my heart skips a beat from the anticipation of her judgmental response when she sees me. As her head slowly begins to rise, I ready a friendly smile, but when her gaze meets mine and her eyes bulge out of their sockets as she looks me up and down, I know the last thing she's going to do is return my smile. I ignore her calculating gaze as I take my regular seat beside her in Calculus, all the while feeling her gaze burn a hole through me.

I turn to look at her and see her disgusted expression first. "Lauren," she hisses. "What are you wearing? You look like... Like..."

"It's just something new," I supplement before she says something rude as I try not to frown at her.

"You look like a slut, Lauren," Sasha says plainly, contempt in her voice.

I'll admit, that one hurt. But I still give her a forced smile and try to falsely convince her, "It's just a different outfit, but the same me."

Sasha shakes her head and pushes her glasses up her nose, her eyes narrowed and scrutinizing my attire as she mutters, "Definitely different."

I ignore her comment and painfully sit through the rest of class, which consisted in ignoring additional comments and an overwhelming amount of judgmental stares. It felt like Sasha's gaze was harsher than anyone else's had been, and her reaction was the most disapproving. I suppose I expected that. But regardless, I intended on still trying to salvage what was left of our friendship despite of what Sasha thought of my change.

By the time the bell finally rings and relieves me of the tension filled classroom, I'm exhausted merely from feeling the weight of Sasha's judgmental glares directed at me. I get up and face her as students pass me, walking out the door, and continue to steal glances in my direction. All day I had been steadily ignoring everyone's looks, but for some reason, it was harder to ignore Sasha's.

"Are you ready for lunch?" I ask hopefully, trying to sound more cheerful than I felt.

Sasha shakes her head and announces monotonously, "I'm going to the library. I'll see you later."

And, like that, Sasha filed out of the classroom quickly. I sighed at her retreating figure and gathered my books then headed for my locker, unsure of what to do. Quite honestly, I didn't even know where to sit. The past month, I've been either eating with Thomas or Sasha and Bailey, and both options were a definite no.

When I got to my locker, the halls had thinned out, and the few students that loitered the hallway were merely on their way to the cafeteria. I spun the combination in quickly and dropped the heavy Calculus book into my locker, emptying my arms of books and binders. By the time I gather my notebooks for my next classes, foot traffic completely disappeared, and I was the only one left in the hallway.

I lean against my closed locker and let out a breath, enjoying the silence and isolation after the frantic morning filled with whispers, stares, wolf whistles, and glares. Suddenly, my silence is interrupted by a muffle shout coming from a classroom a little way down the hallway, and then the click of a door.

"Piss off," A disgruntled voice growls, followed by the heavy slam of a door.

I glance to my right to see Nathan Rhodes storming out of the classroom, his chest heaving, obviously annoyed. I couldn't help but watch him curiously as he stalks down the hall, running an angry hand through his hair as he glares at the ground. His fingers reach into his pocket and pull out a cigarette box, flicking the top open and reaching inside for a cigarette.

A memory of Nathan bringing me home at the party on Saturday night floods the front of my mind, and I concede that I should properly thank him. I push myself off the locker and take a few steps toward him as his head lifts up, his grey blue eyes piercing right through me as he finally notices he's not alone in the hallway.

"Nathan," I say to get his attention, despite the fact his gaze is already locked with mine, pinning me down.

He smirks as he nears me, coming to a stop when a few feet were left between us. "Couldn't stay away from me, Collins?"

I ignore the sarcasm and get straight to the point. "Thank you for driving me home the other night, even after I was kind of hostile."

Nathan's smirk deepens as he leans closer. "I did notice drunk Lauren was feistier than normal, but don't worry kitten, it was amusing to see you get so riled up." His eyes suddenly scan my outfit as he takes in my entire appearance thoughtfully before he raises his eyebrows. "So, you're sticking with this change?"

I ignore the comment about my "feistiness" and instead play coy, batting my eyelashes innocently at him. "What do you mean, change?"

Just like Cole, he sees right through my facade. He rolls his eyes and lists on his fingers, "You know, actually sticking up for yourself instead of letting people walk all over you. Dressing like Nina Alexander. Giving people attitude. That change."

The straightforwardness in his tone made me question if he was making fun of me or not, but from the somberness in his expression, I concluded that he was not. Instead, I scrunched up my nose when he compared me to the evil queen bee herself and defended, "I do not look like Nina Alexander."

Nathan smirks again, to nobody's surprise. "You're right. She looks pained every time she smiles." I laugh at his remark about Nina, but he raises his eyebrows again. "So, why did you change?"

Stephanie's voice rang in my head, telling me that me and her were the only people to know about this social experiment. So, I just shrug and give the answer I've been trying to pass off all morning to Sasha and Cole. "It's not big deal. Just wanted a change."

For some reason, Nathan didn't accept this as easily as Sasha had. His brow furrowed as he studied me, his expression giving away nothing. "You're lying."

I choked on my next breath out of shock; I hadn't expected him to call me out so easily. How did he even know I was lying? I was fairly good at lying, and I had my poker face on full blast all day. But how did Nathan Rhodes of all people manage to call my bluff so effortlessly?

I just shrug and look away, finally breaking eye contact, freeing myself from his intense gaze. "Well, I just wanted to say thanks for the ride."

I side step Nathan and walk away from him as quickly as possible and instead toward the cafeteria after deciding to get some food and take it to the art room. I was too lost in thought about my encounter with Nathan that I didn't even realize the shift in mood when I entered the cafeteria. When I suddenly realized the room had gone quiet, save for the constant whispers, I finally looked around.

Heads turned in my direction as I passed tables, and frantic whispers followed in my wake. I knew most of the school was in the cafeteria, and everyone must've been trying to see what they've only heard about in the halls, trying to see if the rumors were true. I force my expression to maintain a neutral demeanor as I get in the long lunch line behind a freshman boy, who is considerably shorter than me and physically restraining himself from turning around.

I raise an eyebrow at his strange behavior: his leg is shaking and he keeps turning his head to look at me out of the corner of his eyes. My eyes narrow and I'm about to snap at him to knock it off because it's making me annoyed, when I hear an overly fake voice behind me.

"Hi, Lauren," The devil herself greets.

I turn my body to see Nina Alexander standing beside me. Her hair is styled in her bouncy curls, her blue eyes big, and make-up caked onto her face. While Nina was naturally beautiful with a great body- one that she showed off with every outfit she wore- she still had a bad habit of putting entirely too much foundation on that was two shades darker than her actual skin tone.

Nina Alexander and I were friends when we were younger, but things changed right before we entered high school. She cut me off and recruited new friends, ones that were dumb and blonde and blindly followed her orders. While she ignored me all of high school, I couldn't say I was unhappy about it: she was the overdramatic school queen bee and I was, well, me.

But now she stands beside me confidently, giving me an overly fake smile like we've always been friends. "What do you need in line?"

I blink at her, then the lunch line, as I answer slowly, "I was going to get a water and bagel."

"Well," Nina insisted, holding up a finger to tell me to wait here. "There's no need to wait in line with the freshman."

Silently, I watch her disappear toward the front of the line and grab the items I had recited. She says something to the person at the cashier, and they shy away as she instead takes place in the front of the line, speaking to the lunch lady. After a second, Nina flips her perfect hair over her shoulder and walks confidently back towards me, and hands me my bagel and water with a sly smile.

"So, now that that's settled," Nina starts, and focuses her attention to me again- something she hadn't done since middle school. "Do you want to sit with me at lunch today?"

Nina Alexander embodies every cruel, popular girl cliche in the book. She's manipulative, and

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