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As someone who moves from school to school a lot, there's one thing I've learned: The longer the name, the worse it is.
My name is Bella Cooper, and I'm one of the girls who attend Lowell's Private Academy for Young Women. Lowell's is pretty much a finishing school, but modernized. The school is for snooty rich couple's even snootier daughters, so every day is basically a kids' version of 'The Real House Wives of Beverly Hills'. They turn any girl into a brain-washed, perfect, pretty little trophy wife.
Of course, there's always one prettier and more perfect girl in the bunch, and that would be Heather. Everyone loves her. She's got the perfect hourglass body shape and ideal height, slim nose and big emerald eyes, and wavy golden hair. Everyone wore the same maroon uniform, but hers always looked extra shiny and new. To make matters worse, her dad was the principal, so she got away with everything. She was sitting at the front of the class, teaching some of the younger girls how to write in cursive. A useless skill, in my opinion.
I was sitting by myself at the side, as usual. I used to sit in the back, but I was moved up for 'behavioural reasons', whatever that means. I was pretty much the only girl here who actually had her own personality and wanted to keep it that way. That's probably why I got sent here, honestly.
Our socials teacher, Mrs. Tinsell, walked into the classroom and glared at the bracelets on my wrist. What a crime, to express yourself! I held in a sigh and braced for the lecture I was about to get.
"Ms. Cooper," she hissed, loud enough for everyone to hear. "what on earth is on your wrists?"
She snatched them before I could say anything.
"And go wash off that hideous make-up."
I sighed as the girls behind me giggled with manicured fingers covering their lip-glossed mouths.
"Now," Mrs. Tinsell growled.
I got up and walked to the bathroom, trying not to let her get under my skin. Mrs. Tinsell's class was the one I hated the most because she was the only one who went out of her way to make me feel miserable.
I pushed open the door and looked into the mirror. Dark hair, dark makeup, really annoyingly pale skin, and amber eyes that just looked creepy. Sighing, I turned on the faucet. I was only dressing the way I felt. I didn't realize that some feelings were invalid.
Grumbling, I splashed my face with some cold water.
"Hey, Bella?" A small voice asked from the door.
"What is it, Daisy?" I snapped.
Daisy was a little girl who got bullied a lot. She was my roommate and started clinging to me ever since she got here. She had a wheelchair because of some sort of muscle illness in her legs, which made for a lot of gossip.
She looked at me, hurt.
"Sorry," I muttered. "I'm just... having a bad day."
"I know. I wanted to make sure you were okay."
She pulled her wheelchair up to the sink beside me. I looked at my reflection. Most of the dark make-up was gone, but I left the remaining eyeliner where it was. My eyes looked small and gross without it.
Then I looked at Daisy's reflection. She had pink plastic glasses that looked pretty old, and they made her look really childish. Her pleated skirt was way longer than the other girls', almost down to her shins. Also, her dress shirt was wrinkled and had a few stains. I still don't know why or how she ended up here, because she didn't seem like she had a whole lot of money.
"Let's go back to class, okay?"
I nodded and pushed her chair out of the bathroom, the wheels clicking on the tiles.
I sat through another two hours or so of a monotone lecture when the bell rang, declaring the end of the day.
Outside of the school in the courtyard, I waited for the shuttle bus with Daisy. The only reason I sat with her was that really, I had no one else. I'd never say that to her, of course.
Just as I was thinking that the rest of the day might get better, Heather walked up to us with an amused smile on her perfectly symmetrical face. I guess she's bored again.
"Oh hi, Daisy!" she sang. She had a sticky-sweet voice that was so fake it made me want to barf.
"Why are you sitting with her?" she stage-whispered, staring at me with evil green eyes. "Don't you know that she pretends she's a witch with that ugly cursed devil star?"
I touched the warm copper pentagram on my neck, something my mom used to wear all the time. Looking back on it, I was pretty much a walking cliche, so I was inviting people to make fun of me. Still, this necklace was important to me.
"First of all, it's not a devil star, you plastic Barbie. Second of all, it's not cursed, and third of all, I am not a witch," I muttered.
"Ooh, be careful Heather," one of her friends mocked. "She might put a spell on you!"
"Bella, maybe we should just move—" Daisy tried to smile.
"Yeah, Bella, your cheap makeup might stain my new dress," Heather pursed her lips in a fake pout. I was really not in the mood to talk to her right now.
"I guess we should. After all, your dress looks ugly enough with you in it." I shot back, hoping to end the conversation.
She squinted at me and... hissed? I froze as I realized she spat on me.491Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWiX2Lx4f46
491Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡU0GJHugqRo
"Ew, what was that?" I wiped her disgusting spit off my face. I felt like it stung a little, or maybe I'm being dramatic.
"Um, Bella, we should go now," Daisy said frantically, pulling at my arm.
"What are you, a snake?" I gagged. It was like hot slime on my face. How does a person even hold in that much saliva?
"Oh, are you saying you don't like snakes, Bella Cooper?"
And then, the weirdest thing happened.
Her eyes turned glossy and reptilian, so did her friends. Then they sort of melted into one person, and the next thing I knew, there was a huge snake with nine heads of... more snake...?
I stepped back, the slime on my face no longer the main issue.
"Bella, let's leave!" 491Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHKKHjMTBfa
I finally decided to listen to Daisy, and we hightailed it out of there.
I saw Ms. Hamningberg, our textiles teacher. I was about to rush over to her, but Daisy yanked on my arm.
"No! She um, won't believe you!"
"What? Of course she will! There's a multi-headed snake back there!"
"Shh, shh!" Daisy whispered. "Let's just... walk back."
I hesitated, but she was right. None of the teachers here really liked me, or even tolerated me, so trying to convince them that a couple of girls turned into snakes might not be the best idea.
"Okay, let's get going then."
We got back to the dorms just a hair late, which of course, we got yelled at for. I didn't care though, I was just happy to get away from Heather- or whatever she was now.
We went upstairs to our dorm, and I changed into a big t-shirt and some sweatpants, still feeling like I should tell an adult or something. I needed an explanation. Did I really just see that? Should I call the police? I wanted to ask Daisy, but even if she did know anything, she'd probably just break down and cry. She was sensitive like that. I plugged in my headphones and thought about it until I accidentally fell asleep.
The next day I had a bunch of questions ready, but everyone was acting really weird. When I got to class, Heather wasn't there, and neither were her snake friends. I went to some girls who sometimes talked with me when no one else was around and asked them where Heather went. She would never ruin her perfect attendance record, so something definitely happened.
But they all said that they didn't know who Heather was.
In fact, everyone at school was pretending to not know Heather or her friends.
"You remember, right Daisy?" I asked her at lunch.
She looked down and adjusted her skirt in her wheelchair.
"Who are you talking about?"
I stared at her for a moment, wondering if everyone was just playing a trick on me.
"Just yesterday we were running from Heather because she and her friends turned into a snake monster." I wiggled my fingers, imitating the snake-heads.
"Um, I don't remember that."
"You're joking, right?"
She shrugged and continued to eat her lunch.
It stayed like that for a few weeks. Everyone pretended they didn't know who Heather was or where she went. I knew Heather definitely existed because she created some... memorable experiences for me...
...But if everyone wanted to forget about that perfect princess, I was all for it.
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