Falling For The Keeps

01. Eww, feelings!

Dawn

I think I have had enough. While this isn't the first thought you should start your senior year with, I have definitely had enough of everyone. Like literally, I am twenty and two, and my brain is all formed, (well mostly, it's close atleast) and thus the possibility that these feelings are almost permanent doesn't help at all. I let out a sigh, scratching my forehead as I entered the hallway to the most dreaded place in modern-day, New York for a lesbian. Dartsmouth. Why? Well, there are reasons. One of which is, if you are out of the closet, the closest thing you enter is the Dartsmouth Weekly's Cover Page with a long ass history of how, why, and who'd you rather, which I deem as a total abomination of unsolicited fame. Especially when it had brought down my family life, love life, and wrecked my college rep.

"Dawn, my darling! We miss you at the dorm this year!" I heard the red head in her Taylor Swift cardigan wave a hello at me, and it didn't take me a while to recognise her cute as a button nose, all purple from the possible adrenaline coursing through her as I waved back.

"Yo, Elle. Thought I would bunk up at my gramps." I said, waving back as I bite my tongue and pray for the tenth time that my shoelace hadn't undone itself yet. If it weren't for the layoffs in my current part-time job, where I earned a good amount of money to buy something from the second hand rental at Grizz's, I would have switched to a better pair of shoes. But when I still hadn't, I struggled walking with hole in left sole, almost screamed my lungs out as I hit the tile and the lil pebbly thing, taking my place next to Elle.

"Guess I will see you at breaks, and class of course!" The lean girl of eighteen and half, tucked a braid under her ear, giving me a toothy smile.

Nothing has changed about Elle over the years either. I was about five, when Elle's mother met mine in parking lot of 'Ballet for beginners' classes. Seemed like Elle's mom was one of the most enterprising woman in her time, married to the owner of a Fortune 500; Nicholas Spankizine also happens to be Elle's dad. Well, Elle looked nothing like him though. She had big, grey eyes, and her arms were as thick as noodle sticks boiled to perfection. Grace and poise laden, always hiding beneath her thick glasses and buried between some science magazine, Elle grew up to be an overachiever, always ahead of her class. This didn't go that well with her social rep, and while half of the people called her a prodigy, there were hitched snarling behind her back. But did she care? Not that I heard of.

"See ya girl!" I thumbs-up-ed her when I felt a pat on my back.

I didn't had to turn to know it was. The strong scent of Bloomingdale's rich and famous Rose perfume tickled my nostrils and before I could turn around, I found myself facing a makeup slapped tower of six feet or so.

"Hello, there." I said, knowing this was my cue to small talk asap and get the hell out of here.

"Well, well. Who knew we would run into the Les Girl, Pride Queen aka Down Raven here!" She pouted her lips, rolling her eyes, as I watched the quadron of bitches assemble behind her to perform their 'Know Your Place' musical score. Was I accustomed to it? Sorta.

"It's actually Dawn Rivera, Miss Spankensie Junior. Oh, I meant Spankenzine Junior. Anyways, it's all Spanks. Don't mind me though." I winked at her.

While the Spankenzine family had more antics than fame, their oldest and eccentric child was the Queen Bee of Dartsmouth. Well, atleast for the kids who plan to date, fuck or screw her over. Where did I fall in there? I had my deepest fantasises about Natasha. Nat you see, was one of a kind. She was a narcissistic, spoilt, rude, and total pain in the ass bitch who always stepped on my nerves. So I have always wanted to screw her, and possibly pass the crown to the rightful owner rather than a plastic laden bimbo.