John MacTavish, what a douche, you think as he drives past you in the parking lot, blasting obnoxiously loud music- Green Day? Yuck.

You gather up with your girlfriends as they all get out of their rides and walk- excuse me, strut into school with your little denim skirt, leopard print tank top, knee high boots and a pink juicy couture jacket. Your girls? All wearing something similar in the revealing sense. You walked into school giggling about a topic and you pass John and his friend. They began to mock your laughter with a high pitched, ear grating, overly exaggerated giggle. You and your group shot them disgusted looks before moving on.

Now, in class, he sat behind you. Unfortunately in this class none of your girlfriends were in, leaving you in solidarity for an hour. "Psst." He whispered behind you. You slowly look over your shoulder with a wide eyed glare, shocked at his audacity to speak to you. "You got a pen, Barbie?" John grinned wickedly. For the next ten minutes he harassed you until he got that extra pen. When the bell rang, you didn't hesitate to bolt out the classroom. Unfortunately, with you, John followed suit. "Hey, Regina George, wait up!"