Hey guys! I am SO sorry about not continuing this :D For all of you who messaged me, again, I'm sorry, but I'll try to update as much as possible. It's just that I'm in junior year and it's really stressful :/

Anyway, I've been such a hypocrite. I always tell people not to start stories and then stop them, and I did the same thing. And also, sorry if this isn't good…I haven't written for fun in so long after all that formal writing for school. It's also 11 pm, lol, so it's short, because I still have homework.

Amy sat at her desk in room 116, and wrote, or at least, tried to write, trying to ignore Tessa's high-pitched giggles. Ugh, she thought to herself. How can one girl completely change in…three years. The cheerleader-hating, chocolate-loving, and reading-loving Tessa had undergone a transformation after being elected head cheerleader due to her excellent gymnastics skills. Amy shuddered. The horrors of popularity.

Just then, Tessa sauntered up to Amy, and peered over at the blank paper on her desk. She laughed. "What Amy? Can't find anything to write about…you're such a boring person!". Amy inwardly shook her head and Tessa's outfit that morning. Tessa's super-orange skin almost glowed in the florescent lights of the classroom, along with her pale blonde hair. The girl was wearing a tanktop that was…extremely low-cut, to put it in one way, and a pair of see through leggings. Amy shuddered again.

"Well, Amy, answer me? Can't you find anything to write about to your boyfriend?" Amy grit her teeth frustration. She tried to control herself, but after Tessa's condescending sneers grew worse, she finally snapped. "Well, whaddya know Tessa, isn't it quite ironic you're talking to me about writing. At least I can write. Someone I know here had to take English 1 twice!" Tessa flushed red and shot her a glare…if looks could kill, Amy would certainly be in her grave.

Casting one last glare at Amy, Tessa stormed away to her awaiting friends, and began to discuss the oh-so-intricate subject of…tanning salons. Amy shook her head and continued to…or started to…write.

Dear Isaac (that's not your real name, is it?),

I don't really know what to write to you, but apparently, according to my charming English teacher, Ms. Lazaro, you are my "penpal" for the year. Well, for starters, I am Amanda Calger (not my real name; I actually chose it randomly). Anyway, so apparently, you attend the EnglishAcademy for Performing Arts. That must be amazing, but it does sound quite snobby. I love to sing, but I'm more of an in-the-shower kind of girl. Anyway, pleased to meet…er, write to you, and write back, before I die listening to the Queen Ditzhead of our school talk about tanning salons and what color thong would look best with her totebag. Sorry, TMI (too much information, if you don't use that back in London).

-Amanda

Room 116, Ms. Lazaro

Oakcrest High School