(Will Name Later...)

[AshtonLAT]

My first time writing on CS, so here goes...
The more people who like it, the more I'll write.
Oh, and feel free to comment/critique... Thanks!
HEY! By the way, PLEASE vote so I atleast know what you think of it, even if you don't like it.

Chapter One:
"Wait for me!" I called as my friend, Claire, left the locker room. I sighed and quickly pulled my tennis shoes on and raced out of the locker room and across the gym to where Claire was standing with Hailey. I was slightly annoyed that Claire was hanging out with Hailey now. I really don't like Hailey because, well, she wears the shortest shorts to ever exist, a million pounds of make up, and is rude to basically everyone, including me.
"Hey, Claire," I say, nudging her shoulder slightly. She doesn't notice. Lately, it feels like no one notices me, and the people that do are stupid people like Hailey and her stupid friends.
My gym teacher, Ms. Miller, blows her whistle, which pierces my ears. Even after she's stopped, the high note is still ringing in my ears. I sit down next to Claire, who still hasn't noticed me, and brace myself to be yelled at by Ms. Miller.
"Phoebe Jefferson, where are your gym shorts?!" Ms. Miller demands.
I nervously glance down at my jeans.
"I took them home to wash them on Wednesday," I answer nervously.
"And you didn't bring them back. You know the drill, Phoebe. Go find a pair in the lost and found box. And bring yours back by Friday, in time for our next gym class."
I nod and swallow the lump in my throat. I feel tears pushing their way into my eyes and try with all my might to hold them in. I don't want to cry, of course, but lately my emotions have gotten disconnected from my brain. I'll get teary at the smallest scolding now, against my own will. I slowly stand up and force myself to walk back into the locker room to get a pair of stinky gym shorts that some girl left behind, like, fifty years ago. My legs feel like they have hundred pound weights on them and I have to think hard to keep myself from shutting down right here, right now in front of my whole gym class.
Eventually, I reach the locker room and I exhale a shaky breath as I make my way to the musty back room of the gym, towards the lost and found box. I sift through it's stinky contents until I find the least stinky pair that will kind of fit me. They smell musty, like an old and forgotten keepsake that has been hidden away in an attic for ages. I slip off my jeans and pull on the shorts. Above me, the water pipes creak and moan. I quickly dash out of the locker room and back over to Claire and Hailey. As Ms. Miller instructs us on what we'll be doing today, Hailey pulls Claire's shoulder length hair back into a two ponytails, which she then ties into one ponytail.
"Find a partner and get a basketball. You'll get five minutes to practice before we play a game."
I nudge Claire, but not before Hailey has declared that Claire will be her partner. I awkwardly stand up and glance around at the pairs of people- Derek and Matt. Cassidy and Nora. Susanna and Alec. Everyone has a partner. Why me? Why can't Hailey be the lonely girl without a partner? Why does she get all this good luck? She's beautiful, popular, has straight A's, and, now, has Claire- My friend. A sob tugs at my throat, but I don't let it out. I grab onto it and push it away. I'm determined not to let anyone know it ever existed.
Typical. I'm left out. I'm ignored. I'm sad and depressed and about to cry and... I'm not going to let anyone- ANYONE -know.

Chapter Two:
After school, I shove my books into my locker and grab my cell phone. Then I walk up two floors, to Claire's locker. She's too busy talking to Emily to notice that I'm there. I take out my phone and wait a moment for it to turn on. Once it has turned on, I check my texts. I have three new texts- two from my mom saying she can't pick me up and I have to walk home and one from my dad saying he won't be home until ten tonight because he has to work late and that the keys are under the doormat. Pathetic, it really is.
"You need to come to my house, Claire. Can you?" Emily asks. "Hailey and Grace are coming over, too." Emily smiles her perfectly white smile and brushes a golden strand of hair out of her eyes.
"Yeah, I guess so," Claire relies, even though I know for a fact that Claire is always supposed to ask her mom before she goes to a friend's house. Or anywhere, for that matter. But Claire doesn't mention this to Emily- she doesn't want to sound irresponsible. She doesn't want Emily to know her parents are over-protective.
"Shouldn't you ask your mom first?" I point out, not caring if it makes Emily think less of Claire because Emily's opinion really shouldn't matter to Claire. But for some strange reason it does. And that bothers me.
"No, I'm sure it's fine," Claire giggles, shooting me an evil look. Her giggle bothers me more than the evil look because she never giggles-never. She laughs, yes, but she doesn't giggle. She's not a giggle-type of girl.
"Okay. Come on, my dad should be here any minute to pick us up," Emily informs Claire.
I awkwardly stand behind Claire since Emily hasn't invited me. Not that I want to be invited.
"Hey, Emily? Do you think Phoebe can come?" Claire asks. I'm so shocked by this question that I nearly smack a sixth grader in the face as my hand flies up to my mouth.
"Sure, no one will care," Emily answers. No one will care. Even though I know she means that her dad won't care, the words sting. She may as well have said I don't matter. "But walk faster!" Emily instructs. "If we take too long, my dad will get mad and just drive away and make us walk home." We quicken our pace and dash down the stairs behind an extremely slow group of guys.
Outside, Hailey and Grace wave us over to Emily's dad's car. Emily hops into the passenger seat and Grace, Hailey, and Claire climb into the back seat. But there isn't a seat for me.
"Just squeeze in," Claire suggests. She urges the others to scoot over to make room for me.
"I can't move over anymore," Grace insists. "I'm already too far over."
In truth, Grace really could move over more, but since she doesn't like me, she won't.
"Just... Um..." Emily begins. "Well, you can sit in the trunk?" Emily says, more of a question than a solution. But everyone else takes it seriously, even though I'm pretty sure it was meant to be a joke. As quickly as I can, I open the trunk, climb into the cramped area, and slam the door shut.
Even as quick as I got in, everyone saw. I could have died of embarrassment. In fact, I preferred that alternative to climbing into a trunk.
Luckily, the ride is short, and soon we're at Emily's house. We jump out of the cramped car and Emily shows us to her bedroom. It's pastel pink with various purple and pink furniture. Her blankets on her bed are pink polka-dotted, her closet is shielded by a translucent pink curtain, and her dresser is pale pink with lavender stripes crisscrossing it.
"I know what we should do," Grace says. I see a sly grin creep over her pretty face and wonder if anyone else sees it, but the looks on their faces tell me they don't.
Don't they know how evil Grace is? Don't they know she's dangerous? Don't they know that they're powerless compared to her; that she manipulates their little minds; that they're just powerless pawns blessed with the job of doing her dirty work? Don't they know that once she has no use for them she'll throw them away, she'll dispose of them, like everyone has always done with me?

Chapter Three:
"What's your idea, Grace?" Emily asks.
"Well, we should do each others hair! We can test new hairstyles for school and suggest prettier hairstyles for people!" Grace exclaims, as if her idea is a good one. I prepare myself to hear Claire say what a lame idea that is and say we should play volleyball, but instead she agrees with Grace.
"That sounds like a lot of fun," Claire replies.
"I want to do your hair, Grace!" Hailey announces loudly.
"Who wants to do my hair?" Emily asks.
"I'll do Claire's hair?" I say, because it looks like I'm going to have to participate in this.
"Actually, I wanted to do Claire's," Emily says. She twirls a lock of her long hair around her finger and sighs.
"Phoebe, you can do Emily's hair," Grace tells me like she's the boss of me and can just tell me what to do. She and Emily search through Emily's dresser until they find a flat iron and curling iron. Hailey grabs the flat iron and plugs it into an outlet under Emily's desk.
I glance at Emily's pink clock on her dresser. It reads four-oh-seven.
"Phoebe, come here," Grace instructs me.

[AshtonLAT]

Bump...

[Pharoh]

You are a good writer. I'll be waiting if you will write more!

[AshtonLAT]

Thanks! I think I might write another chapter in a little while.

[AshtonLAT]

BUMP BUMP BUMP...

[DreamCaster]

Your story ROX! but i think you should write more instead of bump inguntill you finish a few more chapters.

[AshtonLAT]

Your story ROX! but i think you should write more instead of bump inguntill you finish a few more chapters.

Thanks and I think I'll write some more pretty soon but it might take a while because every minute or so I have to check on other stuff.