Okay, let’s get one thing perfectly straight: I’m pretty sure my ex-boyfriend’s new girlfriend is a life-force-sucking demon. Don’t believe me? Let’s look at the facts, shall we?

Ever since he has been dating her (or, more accurately, ever since he has attached himself permanently to her lips), he has become a shell of the guy he used to be. He used to be charming, funny, goofy, sweet and personable. That was when he was dating me. Now that he’s with the demon girl, he’s quiet, reserved, grumpy and worst of all – arrogant. Yeah. Jeffrey Weston, who used to be the king of self-deprecation (something I always found to be quite endearing), had become a narcissist. And I can personally vouch for him. He was perfectly fine until she came along. Until she stole my near-perfect boyfriend out from under my nose.

Amber Lynne Rose Spencer enrolled at Jefferson Elliott High the very same day I had planned on giving my virginity to Jeffrey. He and I had been dating since our freshman year, and somehow he had managed to wait patiently all that time for me to be ready. And on the day I decided I was completely, totally, one hundred percent ready, he dumped me. For Amber Lynne Rose.

Of course, he didn’t say that she was the reason. And it’s not as if he dumped me one minute, and then was making out with her the next. Although, it was pretty darn close. Two days after we broke up, he was seen walking around the hallways with her, hand in hand. And two days after that, he was seen kissing her by her locker. That was just last week.

So of course you could say that I’m still broken up about the whole thing. And yeah, sure, of course I am. I mean, I loved Jeffrey. We were together for more than two years, which is almost like ten in teen years. And sure, I still cried myself to sleep every night, right after wishing on every star I could find that Amber Lynne Rose and her ample cleavage would just up and move to France. Or the moon. Yeah, the moon would be nice.

Of course, I’m actually joking when I say I think she’s a demon. I actually just think she’s a good-for-nothing whore. And I’m not just saying that as a woman scorned. I honestly believe that Amber Lynne Rose has had her fair share of boyfriends, and I truly believe that Jeffrey Weston will be the first in what I’m sure will be a long line of Jefferson Elliott High boys who will be used and abused, then tossed aside for her pure enjoyment.

And I would be there to pick up the pieces when she broke his heart.

I’d just have to wait patiently for that day to come.

---

Amber Lynne Rose is beautiful. And I’m not talking the kind of manufactured beauty found in Hollywood, but the natural girl-next-door beauty which does not require a whole lot of makeup. She’d only been a student at Jefferson Elliott for less than two weeks, and already about seventy percent of the male population wanted her. It helped that she would show up every day in short skirts (as short as she could get without getting sent home), and tight shirts that clung nicely to her curves. When she walked down the hallway, every guy would turn his head and watch her walk away, much to their girlfriends’ dismay. I’d heard that at least ten guys had asked her out already, and she’d turned every single one of them down. Every one of them except for Jeffrey, that is.

And it made no sense to me. I mean, Jeffrey is definitely cute. He’s tall and lean, but not scrawny. He’s got the most gorgeous black hair that always falls loosely into his eyes. I used to love pushing his hair off of his forehead, to get a glimpse of his amazing baby blue eyes. So yeah, he’s a hottie. But it’s not like he was the only hottie in the school. So why did Amber Lynne Rose latch on to him? There were plenty of good-looking, single guys at our school, and she could have had any one of them. The fact that she chose to go after one with a girlfriend is proof enough for me that she’s a skanky whore, and therefore totally undeserving of Jeffery Weston. But could he see that? Of course not. All he could see were long legs and boobs – two things I seemed to be seriously lacking.

God, I hated Amber Lynne Rose.

And I hated watching her make out with my ex-boyfriend. But it was hard not to notice them, when they were doing it only a few lockers down from mine.

“Ew. This is more disgusting than that Discover Channel special I watched on the mating rituals of dung beetles.”

I couldn’t help but let out a huge sigh of relief at the sound of the feminine voice behind me. I recognized it right away as belonging to my best friend Trish Holloway. Trish was my savior. When Jeffrey dumped me, she took up semi-permanent residence in my bedroom in attempt to comfort me. She’d brought over an economy-sized box of tissues, five pints of Ben & Jerry’s Cherry Garcia ice cream (my favorite), and six Hugh Grant movies. She patiently endured my bitching and moaning and literally had provided me with a shoulder to cry on. And now, she was (rather loudly) ridiculing the public display of gag-inducing affection between Jeffrey and his slut. I love that girl.

Jeffrey and Amber Lynne Rose pulled apart slightly at hearing Trish’s comment. But while Amber Lynne Rose glared over at us, Jeffrey made sure to avert his gaze absolutely anywhere else. With a huff, Amber Lynne Rose took hold of Jeffrey’s arm – the arm that used to be mine to take hold of – and proceeded to lead him down the hallway. He obediently followed her like a lemming following the herd off a cliff. I smiled widely when I thought of both of them falling off a cliff.

“Thanks, Trish,” I said gratefully, slamming my locker shut.

She sighed and leaned up against the locker next to mine. “No prob. I can’t believe how insensitive he’s being. And to think, I spent the last couple of years thinking Jase was insane for hating his guts.”

Jase was Trish’s older brother, who was a senior and only a little over a year older than both Trish and me. Jase and Jeffrey used to be pretty good friends. I know this because the two of them used to hang out with me and Trish all the time. But ever since Trish, Jeffrey and I entered high school, Jase hasn’t had much to do with any of us. One day, he just started hating Jeffrey for some reason that is still unknown to pretty much everyone. As for me, he just hasn’t made it much of a habit to speak to me.

I shrugged, slinging my backpack over my shoulder. I wanted to change the subject, because I had already wasted too much time and energy thinking about Jeffrey Weston. So I opened my mouth to ask her if she’d watched last night’s episode of The Real World, which we both totally deny that we watch, but she was too quick.

“So I’ve been thinking about something,” she said slowly. She was hesitating, as if trying to decide whether or not she should continue speaking. I knew this meant that whatever she had to say, I probably wasn’t going to like it.

“Yeah…and?” I coaxed her.

“And I came to the conclusion that it kills me to see you like this.”

I glanced down at myself. “Like what?”

“Constantly on the edge of an emotion breakdown!” she exclaimed. She pointed at my face. “Your eyes are puffy from crying yourself to sleep every night, and they constantly have this glossed-over appearance, as if the tears are just sitting there, waiting for the right time to spill over. And you’ve become careless in your fashion choices. I mean, come on, Lexi – a flannel shirt? Hello! The nineties happened, like, a decade ago. Get with the times.”

I frowned as I tugged protectively at my shirt. Yeah, it was flannel. So what? It was comfortable. My younger brother, Aaron, had outgrown it during his prepubescent growth spurt last year, and had given it to me as a Christmas present because he was too cheap to actually buy me anything. It’s sad, I know. I’m wearing hand-me-ups from my fourteen-year-old brother. But still, it wasn’t like I had dressed like a runway model before the breakup with Jeffrey.

“Trish,” I whined, “you’re supposed to be my supportive best friend.”

“That’s exactly what I am!” she said. “That’s why, instead of doing my homework last night, I devised a plan.”

I groaned inwardly. The last “plan” Trish had devised had landed us in the backseat of a police cruiser.

“I’m not interested,” I said as we began to walk down the hallway. I couldn’t help but notice that a few boys gaped at her as we walked by. Trish is gorgeous. She’s tall, thin and curvy with the most breathtaking shade of red hair the world has ever seen. She towers over me like a giant. Whereas she’s nearly six feet tall, I’m a measly five-foot-four – just one of the many reasons why I’ve always felt somewhat self-conscious around her. I mean, I’m not hideous or anything. If I were, Jeffrey would have never dated me for over two years. But still, in comparison to girls like Trish and Amber Lynne Rose, I am…unremarkable I guess you could say.

The only thing that keeps me from hating Trish with ever fiber of my being is the simple fact that she doesn’t act like she’s gorgeous. I’m not even sure she knows.

“At least hear me out,” she said with a roll of her eyes.

“Sorry,” I said, “I gotta get to class.”

“It’s lunchtime,” she corrected me.

Damn it! She was right.

With a defeated sigh, I led us over to a quieter area of the hallway. “Okay. So what, exactly, is this plan that you have devised?”

She grinned with pure delight. “Well, it’s a plan that will kill two birds with one stone.”

“I’m against cruelty to animals.”

“Shut up, you moron,” she said, sticking out her tongue at me. “Anyway, it’s a two-part plan. I’ll only tell you the first part of the plan now, and then I’ll tell you the second part after phase one is complete.”

“Phase one?” I repeated with a snort. “Trish, I don’t even know what this plan has to do with.”

“Don’t play dumb, girl,” she said, and then in a hush voice continued: “It has to do with Jeffrey. You are pissed – and rightfully so – that he dumped you for Amber Lynne Rose, and there has to be at least a small part of you that wants revenge. Am I right?”

I shook my head no as my brain was screaming YES! Of course I wanted revenge. I wanted to make him hurt like he’d made me hurt. I wanted him crying over me. So naturally, I was somewhat intrigued by this plan of Trish’s. But I didn’t want to admit it, because being vindictive wasn't part of my nature.

But I guess you could say that Jeffrey had brought out the worst in me.

“Fine,” I said finally, in defeat. “Yes, I want revenge. But your plan doesn’t involve weapons of any kind, does it?”

Trish giggled. “If you’re referring to guns or sharp objects, then no. I was thinking more along the lines of turning you into the weapon.”

“Huh?” Her words made no sense to me.

And she made no attempt of further explaining herself.

“Meet me at my car after school,” she said, her eyes twinkling with excitement. She began backing up away from me. “Make sure you’ve got plenty of cash with you. We’re going shopping.” With a wink, she turned on her heel and practically skipped down the remainder of the hallway.

I couldn’t help but cringe at her words. Suddenly, it was no longer necessary for her to explain her “plan” to me, as I was pretty sure I had already figured it out. And if I was correct, and a makeover was somehow involved in said plan, I was going to kill Trish. Or myself.

Or, better yet, I thought to myself with a sadistic smirk, I’ll just kill Amber Lynne Rose instead.