Welcome to the Stereotypical World of Romantic Clichés

by Cheryl White

First Cliché: Feisty Heroine and King of the School


Don't you just hate how "cool" people set the trends? Don't you just hate that whatever they do, just because they're "cool", people think it's "cool", too? Don't you just hate that people don't use their own freaking minds and just go with whatever the hell the "cool" people think are awesome?

Yeah, all those three questions point to the same thing, and I'm pretty damn ticked off with the way the status quo here works. After listening to my best friend Molly Poe practically cry her heart of last night, sobbing and weeping so violently and uncontrollably that I thought her lungs were going to burst out, I have come to a strong resolution:

Teach those merciless jocks who's boss.

You know why? Because some popular dimwit just suddenly decided it's not "cool" to have a girlfriend who won't put out! What kind of stupid rule is that?

Okay, call me traditional or whatever, but I don't believe in a sexual relationship unless you're married. If the guy really loves you, he'll wait. If he doesn't, then he might as well run off, and the girl can have her heart broken and move on until someone worthwhile comes along. You see, there's just something terribly beautiful about giving yourself to only one guy – the guy you're going to spend the rest of your life with, the guy you'll be in love with until the very end, the guy who would so happen to be your soulmate.

But for those of you who would probably disagree, well, you'd at least agree that sex after a week of becoming official isn't acceptable, right?

Excuse me, my friend isn't that easy. And very frankly, I'm proud she stood her ground.

She doesn't deserve some sicko boyfriend who apparently never cared for her and dumped her the moment he realized he wouldn't be getting any. But that's what she got, simply because she made the mistake of falling for the wrong guy.

Who was the guy, you ask? Colton Sadler, the typical jock and under the influence of none other than the king of Kirkwood High (whoever the hell were the voters must have been seriously delusional or must suffer extreme insecurity issues and allowed the man to trample all over them with his inflated ego), Lucas Sherwood.

And once again, you have it right! He's the quarterback! The pride of the school! Not to mention, all the girls fawn over him, especially all the horny cheerleaders on the squad!

How sickeningly stereotypical is that? Wait – how perversely cruel is it?

Oh, you have no idea.

I think I've had enough of it.

"Naomi Allman," Molly hissed at me furiously. "You need to control yourself."

"I want to give them a piece of my mind," I said heatedly, trying to stalk down the hall to locate the little devils. Molly, however, was preventing that.

"They're not worth it."

"You're worth it. And I'm not letting them off thinking that what they're doing is okay!"

"Oh c'mon, Naomi. You're overreacting."

"Molly," I snapped, staring at her less-than-appealing state. I began zooming in on each of her features. "You have dark circles under your eyes, your eyes are all puffy, and you basically look like shit."

"Gee, thanks," she murmured, but I ignored it.

"And that's all thanks to your good-for-nothing 'boyfriend' who dumped you on the street when you wouldn't put out in his car!"

"Naomi, it was my fault." Before I could open my mouth to protest, she hastened her speech. "I didn't listen to you when you warned me. I should have known better."

"So, what? You're just going to leave it like this?"

"One day, they're all going to realize that what they're doing is wrong. And the impact is going to hit them so hard that the guilt will eat away at them inside. It will be so painfully slow that they're going to make a change, if they're smart enough. Knowing you and your stubbornly impulsive state, you wouldn't even think that you won't be able to make them realize that what they're doing is wrong. That's why I'm telling you now that all you're going to do is add fuel to the fire, and they're going to ridicule you. Now, for me, please, listen to your best friend like how I should've listened to you. It'll be better not to associate with them anymore. Please."

That hit me. Okay, Molly has a point. I shifted a bit. "What I don't understand is that they're practically the idols of this school. Can't they at least try to be better role models?"

She shrugged. "Can't have everything. Now, let's get to class."

Ignoring my protests that we're going to be twenty minutes early, she dragged me down the hallway.

It seriously didn't help that first period was History. If that wasn't bad enough, guess who our classmates were. Yup, once again, you're a genius – Lucas Sherwood and Colton Sadler. Applaud, applaud.

You've got to give me credit, you know. Molly and I made our way to our seats at the farther side of the classroom (opposite the door) with no incident at all. I was sorely tempted to punch the smirk off Sadler's face as he ignored his ex-girlfriend and was acting like such an inconsiderate prat – does he not feel any remorse for just breaking a girl's perfectly good heart?

The way Molly acted was terrible. She was suddenly so timid, as if she wanted to just dissolve into thin air. When she heard his laughter fill the room (the first time she's heard his voice since the nasty break-up), she had this pained and hurt expression.

I swear, if she didn't need my support, nothing would have stopped me from racing to that guy and pummel the life out of them. Or at least I'd try.

Instead, I placed my arm around her consolingly. I even pushed away the urge to glare at the lot of them. They think they're such big-shots, those arrogant, inconsiderate, cruel –

"I heard the Walker twins are holding a party next Friday," said another one of their posse. I think his name is James Lewis. He was dribbling a basketball, which isn't allowed indoors by the way, and tossed it to Lucas. "You going, man?"

"Yeah," Lucas replied simply, spinning the basketball on his forefinger. I could hear a few of the girls swooning and giggling. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, trying to focus on my best friend, who has been staring at her desk unwaveringly for the past few minutes.

I sighed, deciding to leave her to her own thoughts. My attention naturally wavered to the only loud people in the classroom. They didn't seem to mind that all eyes were on them. Heck, that must have been why they chose the seats in the middle of the classroom. I, however, didn't make the effort to look back at them, considering that Molly's and my seats are near the front, but my ears were wide open.

"I'm going too," Colton spoke up, and James snorted.

"It's a singles only party, dude."


"What happened to your girlfriend?" Lucas asked. "What's her name, Macky?"

"No, it was something like Mon – " James was cut off by Colton.

"Molly," he corrected. "And I broke up with her Saturday."

"Woah. Didn't you take her to the Shotdown Party?"

I clenched my fists, remembering how Colton "convinced" Molly to go to that party. Open parties like that are usually wild, with endless supplies of alcohol and hordes of horny teenagers. Did I mention that it was after that party that he tried to do her but left her ungraciously by the road when she wouldn't put out? What a pig.

"Yeah," Colton said.

I could almost see the smirks on Lucas' and James' faces.

"What happened, dude?" Lucas asked. "She didn't put out?"

"Or were you really that incapable?"

The two laughed at Colton, and this obviously got to him because he said, "Of course I came onto her! She was just stale or something. Sexually rigid, probably."

That was when I lost it. "She is not sexually rigid!" I shrieked, my hands balled up in fists, which were shaking with anger. Next thing I knew, I was standing from my seat, and the room when chillingly quiet.

But you know what? I didn't care.

"Naomi," Molly said, her voice low and filled with warning. She tried to get me to sit down by tugging my sleeve, but I violently yanked it out of her grip.

Then, I found myself stepping towards the insufferable fools. "That is my best friend you're talking about, and I won't just sit here and listen to you talk shit about her!" I directed my rage towards Molly's ex-boyfriend. "Your relationship with her obviously didn't mean anything to you, and to all of you listening here who probably thinks that these three jocks in the centre of the room are so damn cool, let me tell you that he is the one missing out because he let a girl like my best friend slip out his grasp. You, Sadler, may think of relationships lightly – heck, I bet you're thinking with the wrong head whenever you get into one – " I ignored the way Lucas sniggered at that. " – but for her, me, and every other self-respecting girl in this school, getting into a relationship means something more than just attraction. It means commitment and a degree of care for the other person. You may not understand that kind of thing, thinking that relationships are supposed to satiate your desires, and you know what? I pity you for it! But that doesn't mean you can go hurting decent girls who are so good inside that they find it in themselves to actually fall for a jerk like you!"

I released a huge, frustrated breath, glad it's off my chest. Feeling my chest rise and fall in a manner that's physically evident, I didn't mind the stunned silence that met my speech.

"Hey, you're pretty hot."

If looks could kill, James would be on the floor with forty-seven stab wounds. Before he could even utter another word, Lucas raised his hand to silence him.

Okay, seriously, who does that?

"You don't think jocks can commit," Lucas stated, his eyes boring into mine.

I stared back challengingly. "I don't think you can stay in a good relationship if the girl doesn't put out."

He smirked. That is never a good sign, but I was too pissed to realize at the time. I was too heated to have any sense of danger. "Heh. Please. Do you think we're the ones who get needy? It's not our fault they're the ones practically throwing themselves at us."

James hooted and clasped hands with Lucas. Colton was still in shock. That's what you get, you insignificant ass, I thought brutally. I turned my attention back to Lucas, who was smirking at me in this oh-so-interested manner.

I crossed my arms. "I said good relationships, and those don't usually consist of sluts. Oh, and they last more than a week, too."

Lucas threw his head back and began laughing.

My eyes widened. Oh, my gosh. What's so funny? I'm perfectly serious here! I threw my hands in the air in frustration.

Deciding that it's not worth my time, I turned away to settle down at my seat.

But someone just had to yank my arm, making me turn around and crashing my lips against his.

Yes, you guessed it. Lucas Sherwood.

It took me a second to realize what was happening, and when I did, I immediately tore away, unable to form coherent words in the midst of my fury. I was about to slap him when his other hand caught it.

Okay, so both of my hands were in his grasp. No biggie. I struggled to break free, but I guess he isn't quarterback for nothing.

Damn, he's strong.

"How about we make a bet?" he whispered, all too close for my liking. I was glaring at him, ticked off that his lips even managed to touch mine. "It's about time something interesting happened in this school. I promise it'll be more worthwhile than dumping a girl who wouldn't put out."

Needless to say, that flared my temper once more. He finally released me, and I said, my tone full of dare, "Keep talking."

Smirking, he looked down on me. Gosh, he's tall. I placed my arms in an akimbo in defiance. This seemed to make him smirk all the more. This guy is so infuriating!

"Since you think that people like me can't stay in a decent relationship and I think girls can't help but throw themselves at this – " He indicated his body, which must be a good mix of muscle and meat, as well as his face, which was enough eye candy as it is. I rolled my eyes. " – why don't we test it out?"

I raised an eyebrow at him.

He managed to wrench my hand away from my hip and grasped it tight enough to prevent my escape. Pressing it to his lips, he said, his voice velvety, "Be my girlfriend. And we'll see who's boss."

I tugged my hand away from his clutches. Rubbing the contaminated area on my jeans, I appraised him for a moment before smirking myself. "You're on."

A/N: New story! Okay, this was basically on a whim, but I think it has potential. Tell me what you think? :D