Charlotte Evans

"Charlotte Evans," Brooke says, walking up to me. "Why are you smiling?" I say to her. "What could Brooke Johnson have done to put such a smile on her face?" I say jokingly. Brooke rolls her eyes. "Ryan's party. You're officially my plus one," she says with a smile that most of the other girls think of as cruel. "Your plus one?" I say, frowning. "What about Ellie?" I ask. Brooke scoffs. "She's insisting she has to go to some convention in Paris. Honestly, though. As if that girl doesn't have enough shows to go to this week."

Charlie smiled. Ellie Hoffman was, like all the other girls at this high school, rich. But unlike the others, both her parents were two of the most respected people of the fashion industry. Ellie's father was a high ranking designer for Gucci, and her mother was an editor for VOGUE. Meaning Ellie always had her schedules packed with stuff for fashion week, photo shoots, and flights going to and from New York to Europe.

Despite being the richest out of Brooke's friend group, though, Ellie was actually the least spoiled. Unlike Brooke's other friends, Ellie never stepped over moral boundaries, and was always nice to others. Charlie still didn't get why Brooke hung out with so many snobby brats, though. Every time Charlie confronted Brooke about it, she always gave Charlie the same answer- "We're all part of the cheerleading team, and as captain, it's my duty to lead and help all of you, even at the most impossible times." Charlie smiled. She could hear Brooke's puppy dog voice even now.

Brooke Johnson was the second richest person in their friend group. And since Ellie was never around, all the girls at school treated Brooke like their queen. Her parents were divorced, and it seemed like the guilt they felt for making their daughter go through the breakup only boosted the 'allowance' they gifted to her. Not only did they pay their private school incredibly huge amount of money so that Brooke could be the captain for every extracurricular activity she chose, but they also showered her with gifts every single second of the day. Brooke's phone was constantly going off in class due to messages from her parents, who were always sending her gift cards for chanel and sephora and whatnot.

Charlotte Evans, on the other hand, wasn't that rich, nor was she as snobby. Brooke called Charlie's modesty 'cute', and Brooke's friends called it 'weird'. Still Brooke's friends didn't look down upon Charlie or scoff whenever she walked by, which was what they always did to the public school girls a few blocks away from their own school, New York's Institution of Modern Art. Charlie had gotten a scholarship to NYIMA, and that had been what had been allowing her to stay at this high school for so long. Charlie's dream was to become a singer, but not one of those singers who used too much voice editing and were forgotten about after a few years. Charlie wanted to become somebody to be remembered.

She had started off her freshman year as a humble and modest teenage girl, all ready to get the education she needed to achieve her dream. But then she had met Brooke, who had taken Charlie in as her personal charity case. After spending nearly four years with Brooke and her gang, Charlie had unknowingly turned into one of them- a diva focused on her looks more than her personality, and a high social standing cheerleader who was thought of as nothing more than one of Brooke's minions. Unlike the rest of Brooke's brainless minions, though, Charlie was smart, and she still remembered who she was and why she had come to NYIMA. Charlie still remembered that little girl inside of her who had always been the spotlight at her family's gatherings, and at her elementary school talent show. She remembered how she had realized her dream of wanting to be recognized as the artist of the decade. And although Charlie wasn't happy to admit it, that memory was the only thing keeping her from plummeting downhill like the rest of Brooke's minions.

"So? You coming?" Brooke asked. "Oh, right. The party," Charlie said, hesitating. She couldn't risk failing her classes if she wanted her scholarship to remain standing. Then again, Charlie was always at the top of the class, at a higher rep with the teachers than what Brooke could only dream of. It wouldn't be that horrible to get one B, right? "Of course I'm coming," Charlie said, pulling on her snobby girl face.

"Not in that thing, you aren't," Brooke said, staring at Charlie's clothes in distaste. "Wha- you were the one who bought these for me, remember?" Charlie said in disbelief. "Yes, Charlie, but that was four months ago, remember? Ralph Lauren. Straight after practice Got that?"

And before Charlie could reply, Brooke waltzed off to harrass another girl wearing 'outdated' clothes, no doubt.

Charlie stuffed all of her things in her locker, then headed towards the gym, only to be blocked by somebody else- "Tyler?" Charlie said angrily. "I told you to leave me alone!" Ignoring Charlie's angry retorts, Tyler said, "You coming to Ryan's party tonight? I heard things are gonna get- hic- wild." Tyler stumbled towards Charlie, and she pushed him away. "Are you seriously drunk in the middle of school?" Charlie snapped.

Tyler Thompson was somebody one might call the world's biggest jerk slash troublemaker. Charlie had been going out with him for a few months, until last week, when he had caused a huge accident that had blown up Charlie's neighbor's car. His rich family had paid her neighbors back with a brand new Tesla, so there were no hard feelings, but Charlie felt she didn't want to stick around for what would happen next with Tyler's crazy brain. She had, in a word, dumped him, and he had been acting like an even bigger jerk ever since.

"C'mon, Char-" Tyler said, getting interrupted by his own puke, which had suddenly decided to make an appearance on the hallway floor. Charlie walked away as the students nearby ran off as to not breathe in the horrible smell.

Cheerleading practice came and went. Charlie didn't like cheerleading that much. She would choose sticking her head in a book for hours over hopping around with a bunch of sweaty girls any day. But Brooke insisted that Charlie didn't leave the team, and since Charlie didn't want any drama that would result in Brooke's victory anyway, she obliged.

"Ralph Lauren or Prada?" Brooke said, as she got into her sleek black roofless car, along with two of her other minions. Charlie wanted to reply with a simple 'It doesn't matter to me'. But then she would undoubtedly get chewed out by Brooke for the entire drive and get lectured about the difference about this brand and that by her other minions who were always looking for opportunities to kick Charlie out of the position as Brooke's favorite. So Charlie replied, "Ralph Lauren."

Four hours later, the girls finished their shopping and got ready for the party. "A mansion on top of the hill near the Upper West Side, with waterfalls rushing town from its rooftop," Brooke rambled on, as she drove. Ryan and his parties. Ryan was Brooke's cousin, and was known in the prestigious school for being a party crazed maniac. Last year, his back to school party had taken place in a huge warehouse his parents owned in Brooklyn. It had been pure luck that none of the guests had been mugged, especially considering the fact that all the girls had shown up wearing Gucci and Valentino. Hopefully, this year wouldn't be as crazy as the last.

The girls arrived when the party was in full swing. Everybody turned to look at Charlie, because- well, because she was with Brooke. As said before, Brooke was the queen of NYIMA, whether people liked it or not.

After a full hour of drinking, dancing, and chasing off Tyler Thompson for the seven hundredth time that day, Charlie went outside for some fresh air.

The mansion rested on a small hill, meaning Charlie could see a lot of the Upper West Side from here. She smiled at the flashing yellow and red lights. Unlike other people, Charlie thought the city at nighttime was a much more scenic view than the sunrise or flowers or whatnot.

Charlie was planning on just staying here for the rest of the evening, when the smell of strong alcohol reached her nose. Charlie turned around, to see Tyler- "The hell are you doing, Thompson?" Charlie yelled, trying to pry him off of her. Tyler didn't reply- at least he didn't reply in any language that Charlie had ever heard of. He made a noise that half sounded like a moan and half sounded like someone throwing up.

"Ty- Tyler!" Charlie said, trying to yank his hands off of her waist. "How many times do I have to tell you we're not happening-" Charlie abruptly stopped talking as she fell onto the moist grass. "Thompson, get off of me!" she yelled, trying to get up but failing.

Just then, she felt something or someone pulling Tyler off of her. Charlie quickly got up and saw a guy with silky black hair and a black leather jacket pushing Tyler away. "Leave her alone, will you?" the stranger said, turning around to walk away. That was when Tyler charged at the guy, headfirst, and knocked him towards the- No, wait. Charlie had just seen Tyler running towards the mysterious guy with full strength. But if that were true, why was it that Tyler was the one getting punched in the face?

Charlie watched with fascination and horror as the stranger pushed Tyler back with such force that Tyler stumbled backwards a dozen steps, and crashed down onto the ground. By then, at least a dozen kids had spilled out of the mansion and out onto the grounds to see what all the commotion was about. They laughed and took a few pictures of Tyler Thompson, the football quarterback, groaning with his butt on the ground.

Charlie turned towards the stranger, and said "Thanks." Only it sounded more like a question than a grateful comment. The guy shook his head. "Don't," he replied. "I shouldn't have punched him."

Charlie frowned. She knew very few guys who would feel sorry for using violence, especially if it was against a person who definitely deserved it. It was like this guy understood how Charlie was feeling- Tyler clearly had the punch coming for him, but the act of someone punching another person had made her feel queasy.

"No, it- Thanks anway," Charlie said, smiling lightly. "So, do you go here? I don't think I've ever seen you around NYIMA before," she said to him.

He shrugged. "I just started today, actually. A guy named Leo invited me," he said. Charlie nodded. "That would be the host's best friend. So you moved here, or you just changed schools?" Charlie asked, walking away from the crowd gathering near Tyler. The guy followed her, saying, "I moved here. From LA, actually." "Really?" Charlie said, sitting down on a bench. "Why'd you move here?" she asked, as he sat down on the bench a few feet away from her. He shrugged again. "I guess I just wanted to start over." Charlie grinned. "What, and you parents just agreed to your demands, just like that?" she asked. The guy smiled. "My parents really don't care about what happens to me at all," he said, shrugging like nothing was wrong. "That's. . ." Charlie trailed off. Her parents weren't the most considerate parents in the world, but to think that anybody could not care about their kids at all? That just seemed horrible and sad. She wasn't about to tell him that, though.

"I should get home," the guy said, getting up from the bench. "Wait," Charlie said, getting up as well. "What's your name?" she asked. The guy smiled for the first time. "Zeke," he replied. "Zeke White."