Page 54 of Nightmare

The hallwaysof my high school are a clean shade of white, with clean cut students, with clean rap sheets, who are dirty under their clothes and in the dark stairwells that don’t have cameras.

Pacific Saint High is a private boarding school for the best and the brightest located in Santa Monica, California – and when I say best and brightest, I mean our parents. The ones that throw money at something to make it go away. That’s what the parents of Pacific’s student body do. They throw money at their unwanted spawns and we run wild with it.

Forced to live in dorms that rival the poshest apartments money can buy, with dining halls that serve filet mignon and fresh caught lobster every day. Mercedes’ and Tesla’s crowd the covered parking area outside the school, and teachers turn their heads when parties are thrown on the grounds.

The culture of our Southern California high school is pretty typical, population wise. Hot jocks mingle with each other and their cheerleading groupies; There’s the math team that wears hoodies in the summer and sticks to the front seats of every class; The dance team, who pretend they’re as important as the cheerleading squad, because they get to perform with the band and orchestra kids on football nights.

Then the student council, who are the politicians in the making; The surfers, always wearing board shorts and sneaking out to their cars to hit their bowls and chew down edibles; The goths, or emo’s as they like to be called now, who wear too much eyeliner andAugust Burns Redpatches on the Gucci backpacks that their housekeepers picked up for them before the semester.

Then there’s me.Cliqueless.

Rich girl, annoyed with everything, sticks to herself, stays out of the spotlight. Shoved into a new state – which is like a whole different planet than what I’m used to back home.

I don’t do extracurriculars, my parents don’t visit for holidays, I don’t merge with any one clique. I just vibe.

This isn’t my home, I won’t put down roots somewhere that’s only going to be occupying the short four years of my life. I spend my nights facetiming my best friend back home, when I’m not out exploring the beaches and places the student body would never be caught dead in.

I’ve tried to find my peace here, a temporary peace to get me through this chapter we call high school – until I’m on the first plane home after graduation.

I’ve met some friends, no one that will be permanent in my existence, just placeholders to keep me occupied and entertained while I’m forced to be here.

Camilla – who’s an outcast. She’s a bomb waiting to be dropped. Once she gets the attention from the football team she’s been chasing for two years, she’ll brush me aside and forget about me.

Marc Anthony (yes, that’s his real ass name) – he’s on the student council. We have dinner together in the hall 4 nights a week. He’s gayer than gay and keeps me up to date on all the drama in this prison. I’ve never actually seen him outside of the dining hall, not sure what he does when we aren’t scarfing down fancy meals together.

Besides those two, I’m alone out here.

“Earth to Olivia!” Camilla’s voice cuts through my breakfast fog, and I blink back sleep to focus on her. “Did you hear a word I just said?”

“No.” I reply, taking another bite of my eggs.

“I was saying there’s a party at the beach tonight.” She mumbles around her granola bar, her red lipstick smearing a little along her lips.

“Okay?” I ask. This girl knows I’ve never been to a party here – at least not one with the students of PSA.

“I heard Brody Rockport is going to invite you.” She says slyly, flicking her eyes over my head to look at the man mentioned where he’s sitting at the football table.

I almost choke on my food because I start laughing so hard, and she looks back at me and rolls her eyes.

“It wouldn’t kill you to at least try and fit in.” She mutters. She’s just mad because I’m not helping her social status.

“There’s like, eight months left until we graduate, Cam. I think it’s a little late for that.”

I finish up my meal in silence, then finish off my third iced coffee of the morning before flipping my hair over my shoulder and heading to class – Cam trailing close behind mejust in casethe football team talks to me.

The jocks got the message early on that I’m not interested, and Brody Rockport is delusional if he thinks I’ll go to a party with him. Camilla has to know that by now.

* * *

Classes move quickly,before I know it, it’s 3 pm and I’m wandering campus towards the student parking lot to leave for the evening. I let out a yawn as I head down the sidewalk through the quad, when I pass by the football team.

They’re standing on the giant patch of grass outside the gym, some of them throwing a football back and forth and the others either smoking or fondling a cheerleader or two.

I’m slipping my oversized sunglasses onto my face when I hear someone yell out behind me. “Hey, wait up!”

Assuming they aren’t talking to me, I flip my inky black hair over my shoulder and keep walking.

“Hey!” the voice shouts again before a hand is clamped down onto my shoulder and I stop dead in my tracks to spin around and see who’s touching me.

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