Hi, guys. So, this is a new one. Obviously. Nothing serious, like, but it's almost like writing therapy for me. Fun to write most of the time, but it's a little difficult sometimes. I started posting this on Quizilla a while ago, but no one seemed interested, so I thought I'd put it on here and see what happened. Anyway, I hope you like it. I've got the first four chapters written, so I'll post one each day until they're out. Give us some feedback if you'd be so kind? Would be highly appreciated. Thanks, guys. Enjoy.

Word Count: 1,313

Have you ever had that feeling where you know you look good? You don't think - you know. Because the chances are, when you know you look good, other people think the same. It's when you merely think you look good that people tend to look at you like you're from another planet.

Well, I experienced that feeling for the first time on the first day of my final year at school. I'd never been one of the popular girls; I wasn't well-known, but I wasn't picked on, either. I was pretty much invisible. After six years of high school, though, being invisible gets boring. Really boring. So, I decided to try my best to make sure I got noticed - in the best way possible, of course.

I'd made a bold choice and swapped my skinny jeans and simple t-shirts for shorts, skirts and dresses in an attempt to show off what I'd always had and always hidden. Don't get me wrong, I hadn't transformed myself into a slut over the summer holidays; I'd just persuaded myself to be a little more confident and to come out of my shell a little more. The bolder the better, right?

It was Monday the sixth of September and the start of a new academic term for students all across the country. I was starting year thirteen, my final year at high school and my last chance to be noticed by...well, anybody, really. Seeing as the weather was still relatively warm, I'd opted for a pair of little black shorts, a white button-up shirt and a light, grey cardigan. Might not sound like the most eye-catching of outfits, but now that a little bit of flesh was on show, it was like the world had shifted.

Making my way into my familiar tutor room (I'd had the same tutor last year, too), I flicked a loose strand of my long, black hair out of my face. It was then that it dawned on me: people were looking at me. Only sneaky glances, but still, I was getting more attention now than I had done in my previous six years of high school education. There was, however, a group of four boys at the back of the classroom who weren't just glancing; they were staring at me and smirking at each other, clearly attempting to reach a silent judgement on the newly transformed girl that had just walked into the classroom.

I walked past the group without looking at them and made my way over to my desk on the opposite side of the room. Sitting down, I dumped my bag on the table and started ruffling through it, trying my best to find my new timetable. Just as I found it, however, someone cleared their throat. I looked up at them and my eyes automatically widened; I'd definitely not been expecting this person to come over and talk to me.

"Well, Alice, you scrub up well." It was one of the boys from the group who had been smirking when I'd walked in the room.

I covered my shock as quickly as I could and attempted to look as nonchalant as possible. "Go do one, Shale." It came out good-naturedly and a smirk worthy of rivalling his own graced my features.

Lance Shale was one of the most popular boys in school. He was also one of the most attractive. He was tall, six foot two, and had well-defined facial features. He had choppy black hair with strips of blonde in his fringe and light blue eyes. With his father being a ridiculously successful lawyer, he was, for lack of a better word, rich, and he made sure that everyone knew it. Girls would swoon over him and it was easy to see that Lance revelled in the female attention. However, as well as being somewhat of a ladies man, he also adored maths and played guitar religiously. It was obvious he took his favourite lesson and his guitar playing way more seriously than the feelings of the girls he became 'acquainted' with.

My earlier look of shock was now mirrored on Lance's face. He turned to face his friends on the other side of the room and started to grin. "She's feisty, this one."

I rolled my eyes and smiled slightly. "Didn't I just tell you to bugger off?" I asked, crossing my arms across my chest. Even though I was making him think I wanted him to go away, I was actually having a quite a lot of fun talking to him.

Lance was blatantly ignoring my question. "Lads, what do you think of the new and improved Alice?" He stood up and pointed at me with both of his index fingers, trying to draw as much attention to us as possible.

I copied him and turned to look at his friends - Dominic Burns, Aaron Sawyer and Jay Ewan. Raising my eyebrows, I silently dared them to make a comment, but they just sat and grinned. I was about to turn back around to gently kick Lance in the back of the knee when Jay caught my eye. He was looking directly at me and, out of nowhere, my breath suddenly caught in my throat. His grin was different to Dominic's and Aaron's; it was a soft smile, one that also reached his eyes.

I felt myself smile back shyly, but I quickly averted my eyes. Erm, wow. Swoon, much? He was almost too good to look at.

Jay was tall, like Lance, but he had bright red hair and eyes that were blue mixed with amber. He had somewhat pointed features, but definitely not in an unattractive way. He was a drummer, and a seriously good one at that. He was in my music class, but I'd never talked to him before. From what I could gather, he was more reserved than Lance; the kind of boy to sit and observe rather than take centre stage. He had an air of mystery that could, and did, draw numerous girls in, but he never took advantage of their advances.

I was ruffling through my bag, now. Not because I needed something, but because it was something to do to divert my gaze from the lovely looking boy across the classroom. Lance did not miss my change in demeanour. He let out a soft chuckle and I looked up.

"Looks like you've wooed another one, Ewan."

My face, as if on auto-cue, began to flush bright red. I tried hiding my face in my bag again, but I was running out of things that I could pretend to look for. Let him drop it, please let him drop it, I silently prayed to myself, desperately hoping Lance wouldn't make a big deal out of it.

My prayers, of course, weren't answered.

"Ask her out somewhere, dude. You never know, she might put out."

They all stopped snickering when I stood up, slapping my hands against the table as I did so. "Listen, princess, why don't you fuck off before I punch your teeth so far down your throat that you'll be eating out your arse?" I snarled, leaning over the table slightly towards Lance. He looked startled and held up his hands, backing away from me.

"Christ, calm down. PMS, much?"

I sat back down, clenching my jaw shut. I'd certainly made a bold impression, but definitely not the right kind. Rather than being invisible, I'd now probably be avoided because everyone would think I was a complete and utter psycho. Fabulous. Fan-fucking-tastic.

Snatching up my timetable, I glared at the piece of paper. I'd been in school less than fifteen minutes and some arrogant dick had already been able to put me in a vile mood. Examining my timetable, however, did not brighten my mood. At all.

I had double music fourth and fifth period. Someone, somewhere, hates me.