<3 She's more than just the richest, hottest, smartest girl in school, she's the Queen, a title she's held for years now, being a senior.
<3 She knows what she wants and how to get it. Designer clothes, one too many free periods. Cheer captain and Student Council President. What she asks for, she gets handed to her with a smile or a flash of her cash.
<3 But something new came into her mind, invading and taking hold like an ever-catchy pop song on the radio. It was you, a cohort, a fellow student.
<3 Oh where had you been? She's adamant that you must be new. How could she not have seen you before? How could she be so unobservant and self absorbed? You've unlocked something in her and she never wants to let go of it.
<3 Of course she slides next to you in class. She glances at your name on your paper, writing it down in order to pay some geek to look up everything about you. She smiles and introduces herself jovially. How could she be unhappy in your presence? How could she want for anything else when you're beside her so.
<3 You admit to knowing who she is. And the rumors that surround her. How she bought her way onto clubs and committees. How she pays for people to do her work and how she hasn't had to do a single thing she doesn't want to do in her entire life.
<3 In all honesty, your words sting a bit, but her parents always told her the best things were painful: beauty, love, work. She would just have to work through it.
<3 And work through it she would. Scratch letting some pathetic freak looking into you and being touched like she has been. No, she knows what needs to be done: a total reputation rehaul in your eyes. Fix how you see her before making you hers to rule besides.
<3 She miles with determination. Sara's never had a goal like this. Everything's been handed to the Prom Queen, and there is a certain kind of rush in satisfaction, after all.
