Loving Lies

2014 Winning Year 7&8 Short Story:
Rose Copping, Balmain Secondary College

When I was five, I used to think I would grow up to be a beautiful princess, and have wonderful stories of all the exciting adventures I have experienced, a fairytale life. And, of course, we mustn’t forget the handsome prince I would meet, and ride off into the distance with, on the back of his noble steed. But, then I arrived at high school, where, so far no Happily Ever After has come jumping out of locker, just a musty smell, a moth, some books and my stinking PE shoes.

So high school is the highest point of my life, but I am not the type of person to draw attention to myself and want pity, so I will stop telling the world about my tragically, disappointing life. Poor me, boo hoo.

My name is Angela; I am 15 years of age and currently trudging through the halls of a depressing building full of ‘fun learning’.

“Hey,” I say as I spot my friends.

“Heya,” says Jennifer, my most favourite person at school.

My other two friends Steven and Rob are deep in an argument about something I don’t care to know. We are not the most popular crew in the school but we are happy to be friends; we don’t really care about all the dramas and gossip that goes around.

When I get home after my adventurous day at school, I unpack my bag, eat food, do some homework, and then, check my phone. This is my basic routine most afternoons. I’m not much of a social butterfly on my phone, not even really towards my friends. My main purpose of checking my phone is seeing if Max is online.

Max is my most favourite person not at school, he messaged me once, and I had no idea who he was, but then he told me about himself and I told him about myself. We exchanged pictures so I’m pretty sure he is not a 62-year-old man living in a garage.

Max is the nicest guy I have ever spoken to, he always asks about me and how I am. He is nothing like the guys at school. He actually cares. I know right, wow.

At school, a while later,I walk through the gates. Not much happens. I make my way to where ny friends usually sit, but I am stopped in my tracks by a swarm of girls.

The perfume hits me, I almost faint. I don’t but I manage a small cough.

Hey, Angela, right?” says a girl with bleached blonde hair and patchy foundation. I think her name is Sandrah, I’m not exactly sure if her nametag in year 7 had a typo or the ‘h’ is meant to be there.

“Yes…?” I say, trying not to sound nervous, or faint.

“Hmmm. Ah don’t worry, actually.” She says with small smile. Some of the girls surrounding her laugh a little.

Now I’m suspicious,usually these girls leave me alone. I decide to not let it get to me.

“Okay..” I say quietly,and walk away.

Later, at lunch, I am sitting with Jennifer and the same group of girls comes up to us. I start to feel nervous all over again. I try to be as casual as I can, but I have a feeling they’re not just going to ask for my name this time.

“Hey Angela!” says Sandrah, way too brightly.

“Um hi” I half mumble. Jennifer gives me a strange look I can’t comprehend.

“So, how are things?” she shows us her perfectly straight teeth, as she smiles. Her smile is sickening.

I realize I’m giving her exactly what she wants, for me to cower under her shining teeth and flaky mascara. I think perfume, from six different bottles, in the chair surrounding me is getting to my head, because I sit up a little straighter and reply with as much confidence as I can.

“Good, thanks,”I try to match her delightful smile, “Are you looking for someone? Are you lost?” I say with fake concern.

“Oh, no we’re fine. We were, um, just wondering if you maybe knew someone called….Max?” Her sweet smile is gone; it is replaced by smile that is laughing, ever so discreetly, laughing at me.

I feel cold on the back of my neck, there are elephants crushing my stomach. Max lived in New Zealand; he didn’t know anyone in Australia apart from some distant relatives who lived in Tasmania. This isn’t happening, Max was my friend; he was more than a friend. He always made me smile and cared so much, but now they are just distant words on a screen.

“No, never met anyone called Max.” my smile is gone and my head is hot.

“I’m sure you do,” says Sandrah and her evil smile.

“He lives n New Zealand, you spoke to him last night, didn’t you Angela?”

“No. I have no idea what you are talking about, so could you please leave us alone. Thank you, bye/” I say, quicker than expected.

“Not until I tell you this; it was all fake, and you know it.You thought you were so special,your Prince Charming always there to talk to you. Well sorry to break it to you but he. Wasn’t. Real.” She is laughing, and so are her friends.

I hate them I wait for them to walk away. I don’t know what I ever did to them but I don’t care. I don’t care about anyone or anything, but I do. I might move to Darwin, or just finish high school without talking to anyone, and then I will never see or talk to anyone from this school ever again, except maybe Jennifer.

New rules from now on:
1. Do not talk to Sandrah or her friends, ever again, but don’t look upset.
2. Because I do not care
3. Get good grades
4. Stock to paper and carrier pigeons.

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