I wasn't exactly the most popular girl at high school. I mean, I wasn't the complete rejected outcast that had no friends. Like Carrie White, for example. People liked me. They didn't love me and put me on this pedestal to worship me. I was cool. So were my friends. So, we never really had a lot of haters. I know, it sounds a little conceded, but it's true.
Most of the kids that attended Weston High were pretty cool anyway. There were only a handful of geeks, outcasts and bitchy cheerleaders, but hey, high school wouldn't be high school without 'em.
One of those bitchy cheerleaders happened to be Bridgette. And she still hated me for breaking her arm. She used to tell people how I was freak and that they should stay away, but no one listened to her. I was just too cool for people to dislike me because Bridgette said so.
God, I am so conceded.
Anyway, not many people like Bridgette. She was notorious for "fucking and chucking" guys at Weston. So, she had a reputation that even some teachers knew about. Some of her friends didn't even like her. But she was too busy obsessing over herself and finding a guy to screw at the weekends to pay any attention to what people were saying about her. But she didn't care. That's one thing Bridgette and I had in common. We simply didn't give a fuck. Except, I had a heart and she didn't.
You, the person who is reading this is probably questioning me in saying that. But what I did was – in part – not my fault. And you'll know once we get further into my story.