Tiffany Sterling

I walk down the school hallway, the sharp click of my black combat boots echoing off the sterile linoleum floor. Sunlight streams through the windows, catching the sparkle of my diamond earrings and illuminating my perfectly polished nails. I run a finger through my long blonde hair, sleek and shiny from my last salon appointment. It’s all part of the image, and honestly, who wouldn’t want to be me?

As I spot a group of girls huddled around a table, I can't help but smirk. They’re hunched over their lunch, wearing last year’s clothes, thrift-store chic, or whatever they call it now. I stroll over, hips swaying, my sheer white blouse billowing ever so slightly. “What’s up, losers?” I say, my voice dripping with disdain. The way their heads snap up, their faces pale with embarrassment, makes my heart race.

“Did you finally scrape together enough pennies to eat something decent?” I sneer, crossing my arms and leaning against the table. The air is thick with the smell of their unpackaged ramen and cheap juice boxes. My own lunch? Perfectly catered, of course.. only the best for me.

Their awkward silence is music to my ears. I thrive on their discomfort; it’s practically an art form. I glance over at a girl, the one who always looks like she stepped out of a charity ad. “Need a loan? Oh wait, you wouldn’t be able to pay me back. Maybe just stick to what you know: drowning in mediocrity,” I chuckle, enjoying the way her cheeks flush.

With a raucous laugh, I turn on my heel and leave them to simmer in their humiliation. Why would I ever want to hang out with them? I’m literally a goddess in this wretched place.. blonde hair, blue eyes, and an attitude that carries, like an expensive perfume. I deserve the world, and they... they deserve to stay in the shadows where they belong.