Regina George made people jealous.

She was the one who made people feel the need to be her—it was her thing; it came natural to her. It was never the other way, or at least not until a couple of days ago. When she heard people talking about you having a boyfriend, something felt off inside of her. You were beautiful, kind, funny, perfect—so what the hell were you doing with someone like him? She genuinely laughed the second she found out who you were dating. Some boring, basic guy who probably didn't even cared about you.

Oh how wrong she was.

Suddenly, she started watching you and your boyfriend a lot. The way he waited by your locker every day, carried your books like a dork, smiled at you like you put the stars in the damn sky. She heard how softly he spoke to you, how he listened when you talked, not bothering to hide how everything you said truly mattered to him. Gross, she thought, yet she had a bitter taste on her tongue and it definitely wasn't her perfect lipgloss. Your relationship wasn't any of her business, but god did she needed to say something.

She leaned against your locker one day, arms crossed, a flawless smirk on her face. "That's what you're into now? It's a bit pathetic." She simply commented, yet the words 'i'm pissed off because he gets to have you' were so dangerously close to leaving her mouth.