Melissa's High School

Hey all. I know, I know. I've been more than just a little bit behind. But nevertheless, I've been finding more and more time to write now, and I'm pretty happy about that. Here's a new one modelled after chick-lit fiction like the Clique series by Lisi Harrison. Highly recommended for people into chick-lit stuff like me. :)

Melissa checked her reflection in the nearest car window – which happened to be one of a Toyota Vios – and gave herself a quick once-over. She had managed to find a black-and-white old schoolgirl cashmere sweater with a rounded neck and wore it over a white short-sleeved blouse with sharp cut-offs and a straight collar. A skinny blue-and-gold foiled tie was thrown around her neck for added effect, and it matched the colourful, striped plaid miniskirt she’d worn – together with thick, chunky knee-high socks and high-cut lace-up sneakers. All these, she’d gotten from a thrift shop over the holidays.
Her hair was worn in a preppy fashion, a bun complete with a chopstick through it to secure. She had powdered on a thin layer of foundation and some green shadow on her eyes, with a neutral-looking mascara and lip gloss from the Body Shop – all courtesy of the free samples she’d gotten from her cousin.
Macy had just returned to Italy after staying over at Melissa’s house for two weeks – and within those two weeks, she’d managed to transform Melissa from a nobody to a pretty-looking somebody. She’d taught her how to apply her own natural make-up, how to mix-and-match clothes together and how to be more confident, look and smell great.
Her lips quivered now as her mind reeled in playback to all the tips her beautiful, popular cousin had told her: keep your head straight, chin up; don’t look desperate or pathetic in any way; be cool and always keep your calm and don’t care about what others think of you. Melissa practiced it now, strutting across the pavement, pouting like a sultry model prancing about on the catwalk. She tossed her side fringe back and sneaked a glance at the window of the Vios in front of her. Perfect.
She rolled her shoulders back, held her head up high, walked all the way till she stood just outside the school building and breathed in and out deeply. She was five minutes late, and five seconds from entering the school – where her fate would be decided by the rest of the students in the entire level. She counted through the beats in her head to make sure she’d go in at the perfect time. Ah-five, ah-six, ah-five, six, seven, eight.
She threw the wooden double doors open and strode confidently into the almost-empty hallway except for a group of beautiful-looking girls, her sneakers squeaking on the clean, polished floor. Suddenly, Melissa wished she’d worn heels. But then, they threw her a look and she quickly glanced away, holding her head up high just like she’d walked to the door.
She moved with slow, confident steps and brushed past the girls as if she hadn’t just been staring at them. She could feel their penetrating gazes on her back as they stopped whispering amongst themselves and a small smirk gave herself away on her face. She walked closer to another set of double doors that, she was sure, led into the assembly area and set her hand down on the shiny metal handle, ready to pump it and saunter in. But a voice behind her interrupted her sleek routine.
“The doors are locked.” Melissa rolled her eyes and pumped the door anyway. But the girl was right – she couldn’t open it. She felt her cheeks flush crimson and cleared her throat before she spun around on the heel of her sneaker.
A slow smile spread over her face and she asked in the best sugary-sarcastic voice she could put on. “Where are the others? I’m afraid it’s assembly time.” She saw the girls exchange eye-rolls and immediately wanted to knock her head. How could she sound so stupid?!
The girl in the middle stepped out; she was the same one who’d told her the doors were locked. She was pretty, in a rich sort of way, but not beautiful. She stood slightly taller than Melissa with slightly more flabby arms and legs and a slightly more drooping tummy that showed with her tight-wrap colourful print sarong and the latest pair of Sevens. She had blonde wispy hair that was swept back into a tight, neat ponytail, hanging high from the back of her head. It reminded Melissa of a horsetail.
“Assembly’s held in the hall,” she stated flatly. Melissa’s eyebrows mashed against each other – the annoying thing that happened whenever she was confused. “But the doors were locked and-”
Another girl stepped up and took her place beside ‘horsetail’, as Melissa had decided to call her. She wasn’t that pretty at all, with her heavily Sephora-fied face and a droopy ponytail bunching up at odd knots down her waist. She’d worn a blouse, skinny tie, plaid skirt, black cotton stockings and brown heels – almost the same as Melissa. She felt her face flame up.
“Yes, they don’t allow latecomers to go in. Locked the doors, I expect.” Melissa’s instinctive reflex kicked in. “How’d you know?” The ‘Sephora-fied’ girl lifted a wiry finger and Melissa whipped around, her sideburns almost giving her whiplash. Mounted on kapaline board and embossed in fancy gold letters was a sign hanging right above the door to the hall, saying ‘LATECOMERS WILL NOT BE ENTERTAINED’.
Tears sprang into Melissa’s eyes. She couldn’t believe she’d failed so badly during her first five minutes of high school. It just wasn’t fair!

--Melissa's High School; Random Writing