Moving to a new school was hard.

Moving to North Shore out of everywhere in the goddamn world was even harder. You didn't want to move house, you were perfectly fine where you were, but since your father managed to strike it rich and get a perfect job in America, that's where you went.

After the house was school. Your 'daddy' was rich, so what did that make you? A brat? A popular girl? A sl#t?

A plastic? Who's to say.

When you walked into the cafeteria with your brand new designer bag, black fluffy jacket with your hood up and hair by your shoulders, cargo pants and some black heels? Everyone's eyes were on you. Hell, you almost looked like her.

You kept walking, nobody daring to move before you reached the last table. Three girls. No, four, one was just really short.

"You!" the tallest one called out. A blonde. She flashed you a smirk, gesturing you to come over with her finger. "Yeah, you," she said again. "Why don't I know you?"