The Mary Sue Club

Samantha Rivers is entering high-school. She's just moved into town, and knows nobody. When she does get to know some other ninth-graders, she's in for a big surprise.

Chapter 1

Mr. Perfect

Samantha drummed her fingers against the car window. Tap tap tap tap. Tap tap tap tap. Her younger brother Ian made a noise like a hungry elephant.
"I don't wanna go to school! How long is this gonna take?"

"Shut up," Samantha grumbled. This had to be the fifth time he'd complained about the length of the drive to school. Not that she disagreed. There were plenty of schools near their new home, but her parents had fallen in love with this school's website. It's reputation was fabulous. The only downside was that (1) none of her friends went to this school, or were in this town, and (2) it was so far away that the school bus didn't even come out far enough to pick her up.

"What's so special about 'Stu' anyway?" Ian blurted. He tended to harass anything close enough to hear him when he was bored. Her mother had already gotten this question twice, but she replied in the same manner.

"Gary Stumann Secondary School has an IB program. Samantha needs a good High School if she wants to get into a good college, and so will you."

Ian fell silent, staring at his sneakers and resembling the living dead.

Sam could suddenly see a sign that said "Gary Stumann Secondary--next exit." She squirmed in her seat a little, glancing at the messenger bag on her lap. Not too colorful, not too dull. She hated how she suddenly cared about how she looked. Last year she hadn't given a crap if her shoes were converse or holey, rotten-smelling tennis shoes. Today everything mattered. Her backpack, her hair, even the color of her t-shirt. It was nerve wrecking.

"We're here!" Said the mom with genuine cheerfulness. Samantha could guess that she was pleased to have the ride with Ian over too. Taking a deep breath, Sam emerged from the car.

She froze in her tracks, momentarily stunned. Around her were dozens of cars, all the same model of volvo, all the exact shade of dark, blue-ish green. The drivers were all the same, perfectly embarrassing mothers, kissing their children on the forehead and waving goodbye, almost in unison. Sam swallowed the uneasy sight, tucking it in the back of her mind. There were more important things at hand.

It felt as if monkeys were doing acrobatics in her stomach, Samantha thought as she passed through the school hallways. Solid grey lockers lined the walls stoically, like wary veterans who survived a bloody war. Kids of all shapes and sizes walked about like they knew this place better than their own home.

"Alright, attention!" shouted a pinched, mean-sounding voice in the loudspeakers. "There's going to be an assembly in the cafeteria immediately. Bring your little arses here in five minutes or it's a school-wide detention!"

The general commotion was still for a moment, then resumed even louder. Most of the people were heading the same way, so Samantha followed. The people flowed into a high-ceiling-ed, echo-y room with white walls and fake wooden flooring. Sam sat down quickly, still feeling the acrobat monkeys, even worse.

A tall, handsome man in a grey-haired way strode into the room. He had the air of a man who knew what he was doing, and wasn't afraid to do it. Some students were still standing around chatting, but skittered immediately to their seats as soon as he appeared. This was a man of power and order.

"Good to see you all here," he said like he didn't mean it. "I'm Principal Perfect, and this is your first day at Gary Stumann High. Don't waste it. You're gonna start off with several tests to asses which class you'll be put in. No get-to-know-you games or any of that crap, you hear me?"

He paused, and it became apparent that this wasn't a rhetorical question. "Yes sir," the reluctant crowd bounced off one after the other.

He looked hard at the students, as if every one of them was a gang member just waiting to sell drugs on some street corner. "Hmm. I said do you hear me?"

"Yes sir," came the reply of thousands of students all at once. He grunted and continued. "So why are you all standing in the cafeteria? Because I told you to! And because of this."

There was a long pause, in which the irritated man grew even more irritated. Finally he strode off and whispered loudly to a tentative looking man. "Where's the proejector? Why is it not working? No excuses, you're fired!"

He strode to the center of the room, making a disgusted sound in his throat. "Since the power point doesn't seem to be working, I'll tell you the short version. Anyone who acts like less than an idiot and keeps their grades up is eligible to join the Perfect fan club."

Mr. Perfect said this with a straight face. As if it didn't need any more explaining, the principal of the school strode away. "To your classes, little arses!" he barked.

Murmuring filled the hall, rising to chatter once he'd left. Samantha turned to another girl, and froze. She was extremely tall, but not too tall. Her eyes were a certain shade of purple that changed when she turned her head. She had the kind of hair which could be blonde or brown, depending on the lighting in the room and the perception of the person deciding. It was long and wavy, reaching past her waist. She had perfect, pale skin and a perfect hourglass figure. Her face was cherubic, sweet, and exquisitely pale. She had long, graceful fingers and a smile that literally made all of the boys in the immediate vicinity stop and stare. It was like something out of a badly written fan fiction.

"Oh hello, are you new here?" she said in a soft, girlish voice. "Here, let me help you carry your books."

Her level of kindness was almost creepy. Samantha looked around uneasily. "Alright. Sure. I don't have that many. It's the first day of school, you know."

She laughed. It was a tinkling sound, like tiny bells. "Of course. So where have you moved here from?'

"Just out of state," Sam told her. "What's the school like here?"

"It's alright," the girl said. "I'm Sapphire, by the way. Sapphire Gold. The teachers are rubbish, but they're not bad graders. And there are some really nice people. Some bullies, but also some really nice people. And lots of hot guys. You'll love it."

"I'm sure," muttered Samantha, glancing at a random male. He had surfer-blond hair, a perfect California tan (although this was most definitely not California), and was so buff that it was almost inhuman.

They walked past a window, and suddenly the sun was shining against everyone's pale, pale skin. It was as if she was in a greenhouse made from solid diamond. Everyone's skin began to sparkle as brilliantly as if they had taken the sun itself into their very souls. Stolen the sun from the sky. Samantha yelled and dropped her bag. "What the HECK?"

Sapphire looked at her in confusion. "What's wrong? Did you forget something?"

Sam stared at her, making a point to avoid looking at her skin. This was impossible. She had to be hallucinating. That would explain a lot. Sapphire's lack of interest in the state of her own skin, for example.

"Um, nothing, I just..." Samantha picked up her messenger bag in a hurry, eager to get away from the window. "Where's your first class?"

"I've got history," Sapphire said. "What do you have?"

"History... with Mr. Yarm."

"Oh my gosh, me too!" the girl cried with a stunning smile. Her perfect teeth sparkled in the sun. "I've never had him before, but I heard stuff from friends. He's... interesting."

"Um... great..." Samantha said uncertainly. They went back into the artificial light, and the skin went back to normal. How surreal.

After history class, A mean girl with high arching eyebrows that turned downwards furiously, coal black eyes, and a height that was even taller than Sapphire shoved Sam against a locker. She pinned her there, glowering at her but smiling insidiously. "Girls, it looks like we have a loser on our hands."

Sapphire stood up to the girl. "Leave her alone, Bridget!"

"Shut up Gold," snapped the mean girl. Girls who literally looked like her clones, with their hair all dyed black and wearing the same outfit and everything approached the locker, leering.

"She's never done anything to you, Bridget! Leave. Her. Alone." Sapphire stepped so close to the mean girl that Bridget's eyes went cross-eyed. Sapphire's didn't. They stayed perfect, huge, and glittering pink. She sounded calm but furious.

Sam watched the scene unfold, slowly realizing how familiar this all felt. Many years ago, she'd been on a fanfiction site. Every single friggin story had the exact same plot line. Every single friggin person was little miss perfect, loved by everyone, humble, beautiful, bullied...

But that wasn't possible. This was real life, not a fanfic. Not some teenage girl's lame attempt at a stereotypical story. Right?

The bully backed away, looking furious. "Little miss perfect," she muttered under her breath, like that was an insult. "Come on girls, she's not worth the trouble. She's not worth anything."

Sapphire frowned, like her feelings were actually hurt. "Maybe they're right. Im' not worth anyth--"

"Shut up, of course you are!" Sam blurted. "You just defended me like a boss! How could you let it get to you?"

"I dunno. I guess you're right. It's just that... I can't imagine why Bridget is so mean to me. To anyone. She's really rich, and she seems pretty happy, with all her friends..."

Samantha laughed. 'Friends? Those are more like clones. Her mindless sidekicks or something."

Sapphire stared. "Nobody's ever been nice to me before. I mean, people are nice, but not like you. They just smile at me sometimes, ask me to sit with them."

"Are you bloody kidding me? I thought you were popular! Like, nice popular. You're really pretty and tall, and friendly, and..."

"Aw, you're so nice to me," Sapphire sniffled. "What class do you have next?"

"Science. Ugh."

"Me too!" Sapphire cried. They both got out their schedules, and discovered that they had every single class together.

It was a long day.

7 Comments

© 2020 Polarity Technologies
X
X

Invite Next Author

Write a short message (optional)

or via Email

Enter Quibblo Username

X

Report This Content