1 Wintour

Lying was fun.

It was actually not just Reina's hobby but it was also one of her many talents.

A pathological liar, that's what she was, and a damn good one. She had much practice growing up. And now as she entered senior high school she almost perfected the craft, like she had a PHD on it or something.

She gazed around at every single one of them. Like a predator to her prey. They all reeked of Adderall and Ativan, staples for exclusive girl's school like the one she just got in. Cloaked in Barnes and Blooms they paraded in front of her, trying to impress.

With enthusiasm, she watched them closely, looking for the perfect one: That one girl who was fucked up enough and disgustingly loaded.

Her meal ticket.

Two blonde girls passed her by. Hermes and Prada on their arms, expensive bags she loved so much. They looked loaded, but not enough, not enough to get her to Bass—the topnotch Ivy League University.

She needed more. Someone from money and with a good family name.

"Someone like her." She said to herself as another blonde heiress entered the hall.

Everyone greeted her, full pretend smiles with a tint of envy. Of course, seeing someone like her would probably make anyone wished they were her.

Million dollars from head to toe: New Loubotins at her feet and a vintage Chanel coat wrapped on her. Her face prettier than most of them with a tiny frown which said Daddy-just-got-divorced-and-Mommy-is-screwing-the-limo-driver.

"How was Paris, Mia?" asked a brunette standing by the hallway, she was Rachel Lane, one of the rich bitches of the most popular clique in Billard.

"Still Paris." she answered. She did not stop walking and didn't even turn to Rachel. She didn't have to, because in that place, she was the rule.

Mia Cornelia Wintour—her name alone already screamed money.

"What a bitch." Reina heard Rachel say. Mia didn't seem to catch it, or if she did, she didn't seem to care.

She was just right in time, Reina thought. She already did some research, she was that good. She knew she would comeback at Billard this year so she waited patiently, turned down every clique who offered her their protection and company.

Turned them all down for that one particular girl.

"I will make her my new bestfriend." She silently said to her locker. And with that she traversed the halls of Billard High in her Manolos with her greatest plan yet on her head.

She would get her.

And she wouldn't dare resist.