How to Start a Scandal

Chapter 1:

I just wanted to lie down. Not sleep,  just lay down. For a second. A second of peace before I had to go back to work. "Just a nap," I told myself, "just once, please."

There was a knock on the store cupboard door.

"Fuck," I sighed, "this is what I get for sleeping...."

I got up to answer the door. Bet it was one of those girls. Yeah, I said it. Those girls. Pretty people. "God, what has the Internet done to me.....?" Oh well, not like I'm just gonna stop going online. I mean it's everywhere. So why not?!

I actually blamed the corruption of government for my personality. But no one my age got that, so I blamed the Internet...

Genuinely being clever, (by which I mean having a decent enough IQ to get all A's at the age of 14), was hard. Because most of the jokes I made were science jokes. Most of the references were to classical literature. I had great friends. Amazing friends!.....But I was unsure of their loyalty. (They had bullied me all throughout grammar school and forced me to Homeschool. Which I found boring and lonely.) But they were nice now. NO, kind now. And there company and strength helped a lot.

Because I have a lot of issues. But no one like to complain about themselves in the third-person. So I'll avoid it at all costs.

I won't bore you with my problems. Because I know how that weighs on you. Being the 'Go-To-Venter' or 'Ventie', rather. After a while you feel small and sad. And no one should suffer like that.

No matter what they do.

Short facts of the matter are: I have an eating disorder, or PTSD, or GAD, or an Alkaline issue. Whatever, I haven't been to the doctor lately. But every day, I feel sick. And it hurts. People call me anorexic, they think I'm depressed or have some kind of terminal disease. And so they're nice. (Thanks to them by the way. Thanks for saying-"You're dying, so have five-dollars!") I'm not actually dying...I just have some problems, everyone does.

I have a doctor's appointment Tuesday. It's the Friday before, now. "Hold out five days, Hester."

I love my name. (Of course it comes with the unfortunate problem of people thinking I'm from the 1920's. Not helped by my enormous knowledge of literature and my slight subconscious English accent. People think I'm a time-traveler. Which is awesome! Freaking awesome!)

So being crushed under the weight of that is pretty awesome. (It looks cheap putting emoticons in writing, but I will :).

Homecoming is in three weeks. That's amazing. It's an open ballot. You just pick random people to vote for. Freshmen win the coveted 'Congrats Newbie' trophy. So that should be fun.

I bought an amazing strapless, purple, leopard spotted, knee-high, sleeveless dress from Target. My back looks amazing and my front resembles a rhino. But if you think it's weird, you should see some of the popular girls dresses. (Sluts dress more modestly...)

I love school. I just hate feeling sick all the time.

Chapter 2:

Before I go on, I feel I should explain I am a lesbian. So you could of course say that my sickness is just God punishing me. But think of this, you've done far worse and you're still OK.

Ok, that was vital to know. Because you would have been utterly lost in the next ten chapters if you hadn't heard that. So, there you go.

I'm observant to. I can, in fact, tell all about you from your face, your walk, and your clothes. So this comes in unnaturally handy when trying to start a revolution.

Allow me to explain:

There are secrets at our school-(not Hogwarts)-that would turn an outsiders view of High School gay.
Our school is a pit of polygamy; asexuality; and frankly just messed-up-shit.

So, I seem like nothing in comparison.

And I know all this, but I keep it secret. Because that's what I do. I'm the secret-keeper. I'm the go-to-girl for people with problems. I am the 'Ventie'.

And it's not easy. Because having all those secrets and all that knowledge. It weighs on you. Like I said, some days...I just need somewhere to vent, too.

Thank god I have the Internet.

Chapter 3:

So you're probably wondering what I mean when I say 'How to Start a Scandal'? I mean what the title says. I'm going to start a scandal. 'A Scandal in High School'. Not quite Belgravia, but close.

Here's my plan:

Step one: Come to school on Friday acting as though nothing has happened to me, ever.

Step two: Buy a camera phone. No one will believe you without proof.

Step three: Become illustrious. To the extreme.