PLEASE LISTEN TO GLORIOUS - MACKLEMORE FEAT SKYLAR GREY FOR THIS CHAPTER.

Just a few months ago, the sound of my alarm clock would have induced loud groans and the sound of me whacking my hand around the bedside cabinet, trying to turn the awful death trap off. How things have changed. Since I pretty much decided to reinvent myself entirely and start a new life last September, I've gotten used to waking up at 5am every morning to work out, with a busy day of what I like to call "self amelioration" ahead of me. But today is a little bit different.

It's my first day at a St. Marcus' School of Auckland. I'm coming in as a senior. It's also my first day being truly the new me. The badass, hot, smart alec, totally-not-nerdy-and-doesn't-have-any-kind-of-interesting-past me that I've worked so hard to become. I'm going to use my brain and work hard, yeah, but I'm sure as anything not going to spend my last year of high school in a library hiding from social interaction. I'm going to be the one who always backs herself up and, with a bit of luck, the one who is more popular than a hot lifeguard on a sunny Californian beach. Today is exactly what I've been working for. And starting from today, I'm no longer Natalia Edwards, the girl who screwed up. I'm Stephani Green, the girl everyone wants to be. 

I roll my eyes at the fact that I haven't even gotten out of bed yet and my mind's rambling ways are already back. How the heck am I supposed to be calm and collected when I can't even think about alarms without my mind babbling on about school and being hot and summer and what not? What if someone sees through me? Surely one summer is not enough to totally reinvent yourself. Well I mean, technically I've had since September because that's when the incident happened, but moving from America all the way to New Zealand took ages, and I don't even know if I look different enough yet. I can pull off the whole nice/smart/fit thing, but hot and and a good talker? That was never my strong point. Being awful with my words is basically what got me into this whole thing.

Crap, I'm rambling again.

If I do that in front of someone popular, I'm going to look like an absolute idiot and screw everything up.

Oh come on, what's the worst that could happen? Absolute worst case scenario, you embarrass yourself and spend the rest of the year alone. It's one year. Plus you can hang out with all the friends you made through all your other activities if need be anyway. For goodness' sake, that's what you're gonna be a loner at school if you don't try this anyway. At least you're giving yourself a shot at some fun in senior year. 

Annd I'm back to rambling.

Just get out of bed dork.

Nope, it's cold and I don't want to.

JUST GET OUT OF BED YOU STUBBORN GOOSE.

A smirk crosses my lips, amused by my own thoughts. Stupid as it may be, listening to your mind argue with itself is quite the show. And I know everyone does it sometimes - even if they won't admit to it. 

I check my phone for the time. Five twenty two in the morning. Crap I'm late. Oh well. I think today I'll give myself the leeway of not doing my entire workout program; it is kind of a big day. Unlocking my phone, I check my Instagram and Facebook one last time. It's really weird looking at a social media account that has your face but that looks nothing like you at all. Or at least, nothing like the you that everybody used to know. 

Even the name is new; I legally changed it on the 27th of September. Stephani Green. Just a precaution. I always wished I was called Stephani anyway - I liked that you could have a sophisticated name for fancy events (Stephani), a short cute nickname (Steph), and a less girly nickname too (Stevie). I liked the name Charlotte for the same reasons.

Pulling the sheets off my body, I slip out of bed and walked into my massive walk in wardrobe. I pick out a cute black Lululemon sports bra with a strappy back, some matching Lululemon running leggings with mesh panels, a black Nike cap and some Adidas trainers. Super rich parents who will do anything to get you out of their hair sure can pay off if you like to wear brands. 

Just not if you actually want parents who care for you as a person.

Shut up you negative lil cactus.

I change into the workout gear and pull my hair into a ponytail, not bothering to shut the door or go anywhere else to change because I'm the only one who lives here. I don't think the neighbors can see through my window either. Hopefully. They're never home anyway.

I walk along the hall, down the glass floating staircase that leads into the foyer and out the door. I plug in my wireless headphones and and select the Nike+ Women's Upbeat Workout playlist on Spotify. While I stretch to warm up, my mind wanders to the past few months.

My entire summer was spent recreating myself, as you can tell. I literally did everything you can think of that could possibly make you a better, more confident, happier person. I may as well have become a hippie who juggles knives for fun and lives on organic buckwheat groats. Then I could've run away with the circus because "they have better wholefoods".

I also joined a pretty much every summer activity in existence so that I could meet people, because my social media had to be popping before school started and that wasn't going to happen if I didn't have anyone to follow me. I'd known a fair few people back in LA, but there was absolutely no way they'd be seeing all of this. Only my sister knew about the whole imma-change-my-name-and-become-a-totally-different-and-unrecognizable-person stint. Plus, you can buy likes and follows on Instagram but you can't buy friends on Facebook. 

It was also a good way of becoming more confident for sure. I introduced myself to groups more times than I care to imagine, and got comfortable with meeting people almost to the point where I enjoyed it. Key word here: almost. 

People often wondered how the heck I managed it all, but the answer is simple. Extreme time management and sleep deprivation. I generally three or four activities during the day, but summer school finished at 12 so I had plenty of time to fill anyway. It also helped that a lot of the things were only in four or six week block courses.

Back in America, I'd spent quite a lot of time studying. I turned up to parties occasionally, but pretty much always left before ten and never drank alcohol. Why? I'd seen almost all of my rich peers waste their time on alcohol, drugs and sex, which often led to violence and occasionally gangs. It didn't work out for very many of them. 

I learnt a lot from watching them screw up their lives, and I wasn't about to follow that example. Then again, after a few rumors and an incident that I never ever would've wished upon anyone, everyone there thought that I already had. That's what got me packed up and shipped over to New Zealand, about as far away from America as you can possibly get.

A car beeps at me, breaking my trance. I look up to see a hot guy in a Ford Mustang rolls his window down and leans out. "I'd like a piece of that!" He calls to me and grins like a Cheshire cat. "Go objectify a girl who cares to listen!" I shout back, blowing him a kiss with my middle finger. "You'll pay for that hun" he replies with a smirk, but I can see that he didn't expect me to say anything back. He rolls his window up and drives away. What a cow.

I don't know when I started running, as I was caught up in my thoughts, but I'm almost at the beach now. My house is about five minutes jogging away, which is perfect for morning runs and late night surfing. I cross the road and run along the beach, planning to do some yoga when I reach the end of the beach before running home again. The sound of waves lapping on the beach and cars rumbling past, a general mumble of people going for early morning walks and a couple of people out enjoying the waves all meets my ears. Damn I love this.

"Morning Doug!" I smile at the elderly man. Even though the people who come to his restaurant (which I must say serves the best protein pancakes out) are almost all snobby business people, Doug is the nicest guy you'll ever meet. "Morning Steph! You're up bright and early" he replies, smiling like always. "Oh you know me, like to beat the rush" I grin and wave as a keep running. That man will never fail to make my day just a little bit better.

***

I turn on the tap of my outdoor shower and rinse the sweat off my body, careful to keep my hair away from the water. Shower caps were never my cup of tea.  I don't know how I ever survived with my old routine. It went something along these lines: hit snooze far more times than necessary, get up in a frenzy, throw on whatever was closest, attempt to tame the mane, grab a banana for breakfast and drive to school. Not the best for mental clarity.

Starting the day with some light exercise is one of the best decisions I've ever made. Now my mornings always involve a quick run and some yoga first thing, maybe a swim in the ocean or the likes, and coming home to a smoothie or oats for breakfast. I hated it at first for sure, but thank goodness I pushed through that. After my breakfast I always have a shower outside - and that brings us to now. I turn the water onto cold for thirty seconds (good for focus throughout the day) before I hop out, dry myself off and wrap a towel around my body. Once in my wardrobe, I have the task of choosing a perfect first day outfit.

Easier said than done.

It has to be not not too revealing but not too conservative; not too dressy but not too casual; not too sporty but not too "I'll only ever be at a sport game to watch my currently non-existent boyfriend"; not too cute but not too much like a street kid wannabe. Basically, I'm walking on a tightrope 60 stories high and if I fall to my death, so will my social life. Kidding, it's not that vital. I can come back from something that's not quite perfect easily enough. But first impressions do count for a lot, especially when pretty much everyone else has known each other for the past four years. 

After spending far too long contemplating my many options, I settle on some Levis faded denim high-waisted shorts and a grey Calvin Klein tee. I roll up the sleeves twice and tie the bottom of the tee off to the left before pulling my hair into a messy bun. Lucky for me, St. Marcus' doesn't have a dress code for year thirteens. Looking in the mirror, I smile to myself. Perfect.

Now for make up. I don't want to be a cake face but I've definitely got to wear some, so I go for a fairly natural look with a little bit of brown-y gold eye shadow. I've done pretty much everything you could possibly do to change your face spare plastic surgery. Even though I know in my heart that all of it means nothing, my head still convinced me to get it all done. I'm not kidding when I say I went the whole nine yards; eyebrow tinting and shaping, teeth whitening, skin treatments, eyelash growth serums and tinting, I died my hair ombre from it's natural brown colour down to blonde, and a ridiculous amount of time spent sun tanning. Plus all that exercise has made my cheekbones and jawline much more defined.

Vain as it feels, it's not just to look "good". I don't want the old me to be recognizable. If people here find out who I am, I'll be back to square one and probably shipped off to some other country all over again. I can't have that happening. All I want is to work hard and have fun in high school - like a normal person - and this is my last chance to achieve that. 

I pull on a pair of old school high top vans that are creamy brown with pale pink, grab my keys and phone and walk to the garage. Driving to school seems like the best option, as I'm not exactly the best with directions so at least then if I get lost, I should have time to make up for it.

***

After many wrong turns and dead ends, I finally arrive at St. Marcus' College of Auckland. The place is immaculate. A handful of late students are walking to their classes, seemingly not bothered by the fact that they're ten minutes late already. Lucky I drove.

Crap I'm scared.

I take a few deep breaths, put in a pair of silver star-shaped earrings and a matching silver ring into my cartilage piercing, and step out the door. I have a three step plan to ace this school: one, be confident; two, be authentic - to a degree; three, keep your past a secret at all costs; four, you've gotta be a bit rebellious but keep it withing reason; and five, be nice enough to everyone (cheerleaders and players excepted) but not a push over. Easy peasy. At least I got here in one piece. That's a start.

The lady in reception is completely understand of my tardiness, seeing as it's my first day, but warns me not to get caught by the principal if I value my life. The principal must be an old cow, great. At least the woman at reception is nice.

"Honey?" the receptionist asks me, snapping me out of my trance. "Sorry, I'm a bit nervous..." I read her name tag, "Kathy". "That's okay dear, I get it. Here's your schedule. D Block is just down the hall and two your left. You can't miss it. Have a great first day love!" I smile and nod in appreciation, taking the papers she handed me. "Thanks" I walk off.

For once in my life I actually find something fairly quickly, and it only takes me less than two minutes to reach my first class. Science. Unsure if I should knock or not, I walk straight into the class and am greeted by the teacher. 

"You must be Stephani. How kind of you to join us." I glance at the clock and smirk a little. Got to look careless, to an extent. It's 8:47; I was meant to be here at 8:30. What a great start.

"Actually, I go by Steph. Stephani sounds too much like an annoying cheerleader for me. And your name is?" I smile, ignoring his comment on my lateness. That earns a couple of death glares from the ones I assume to be cheerleaders. One of them is basically feeling up the guy next to her. Ew. I aim to be popular for sure, but if hanging out with a bunch of peppy, self-absorbed cows is what it takes, then I'll pass thanks. I'd rather eat my own severed foot than become one of them. 

One of the boys in the back wolf whistles. "Hot and feisty, damn" he smirks, causing peppy cow number one to give him another death glare. Fudging heckaroos it's the guy from the car this morning. Gross. I smile sweetly at him "hot, feisty and knows how to fight. If you treat me like an object I'll treat you like a punching bag". His raises an eyebrow at me, but I know he wasn't anticipating backchat. Some people never learn. "So you can treat me like a human being, thanks." He grins. "As you wish, m'am."

"That is exactly how I wish."

In that instant, I make a decision. The way I see it, there are three kinds of popular people: the ones who are popular because they're hot enough to melt the polar ice cap (as I like to put it, the peppy cows and the cocky goats) - but they're generally stupid players, the ones who are popular because daddy bought them all the right clothes and cars and whatnot, and the ones who are popular because they're generally nice and fun to be around so everybody likes them.

I'm going to be the third kind of popular. Not the second, and definitely not the first. I couldn't deal with being a peppy cow, though either way I'm going to be surrounded by them wherever I go in this school. I sigh to myself.

This is going to be a long day.

- - - - - - A U T H O R S N O T E - - - - -

OmG FIRST CHAPTER YAY! So excited honestly ahhh :D Sorry this chapter was kinda really boring, I'm gonna probably be giving you a bit of a picture of Steph's life and introducing the characters for the first few. IT WILL GET BETTER I PROMISE. And to the four people out there reading this right now, you guys totally rock. Not sure if chapters will usually be this long but we shall see.

Steph's house ^

Her outdoor shower ^

YES I KNOW SHE'S RICH AS FLIPPING LOLLYPOPS AND I'M JEALOUS.

Please please please let me know what you think so I can improve it! And if know someone you think might like it please recommend it bc 4 readers is fab but not exactly my dream number lol xx

PULOTD: baby did you fart? Cause you blow me away!

- lots of love and carrot sticks, JJ