I walked up to my locker. I saw her Kiss him greedily on the lips three feet away at the front door. 1 second...4 seconds...10 seconds...20 secondes their lips were locked. I moaned in quiet agony at the site of my true l’amour s’embrasser another girl. On haut, retour au début of that, a girl who had despised me since the jour she lay her eyes upon me. She opened her eyes as they kissed and she glimpsed at me. There was false pity in her eyes. She was mocking me. I couldn't take it anymore, I grabbed my Algebra 1 book, slammed the locker door shut and stomped away without a glance back at the "happy couple".

That was how my happily ever-after moment started. My name is Anya Franslow. I go to a High School in sunny San Francisco called Peterson Academy. One jour I hope to be Mrs. Anya Styles.

The cloche, bell for 1st period rang as I entered Mrs. Carter's class. She asked everyone to take their seats. I sat down and started absentmindedly turning to a clean sheet of paper in my notebook.
Good thing I was generally strong in math and she was reteaching yesterday's lesson because I barely heard a word that Mrs. Carter spoke. The events of the morning were nagging at my attention and they overcame me. It had taken me three months to grasp the concept that my arch enemy, Heather Strayhand, was dating my true love, Harry Styles. I never really got over it but, I had to accept it. Ever since he came to Peterson Middle School in 6th grade i had a crush on him. He was smart, funny, and all the things that make a guy great. I had to see these things from far away because we never really had a lot of classes together. I was determined that 10th grade was going to be my year. I was going to be good Friends with him, if not more. A shortage of classes with him wasn't going to hinder me from my goal. In fact we had every class together. I guess I didn't mention he was sitting two rows behind me.