Chapter 1: Chapter One: Just Another Day In Paradise

Just a quick note before you start reading!

So, this story's main character is from Mexico! That being said, she is fluent in the language and oftenly speaks it at home.

To make matters easier instead of spelling everything out in Spanish to save you confusion and attempts to pronounce the word (but also because my laptop thinks that everything is incorrectly spelt and autocorrects it to similar English words) I'll just say in English what she says in Spanish.

However, when she speaks English to them, they'll be in regular form like normal.

So, the italics used when she speaks to her parents (even her friends sometimes) is her speaking Spanish! Again, the italics are her speaking Spanish. Now, don't mistake the italics used to add more tone to something, i.e "I really want that." Or, "I am pissed that happened."

I just wanted to let y'all know so nobody gets confused!

Anyway, continue on!

Chapter One: "Just Another Day In Paradise."

THE FAMILIAR sound of my alarm clock wakes me up from my slumber.

My opaque white curtains are blocking any source of sunlight from illuminating into my bedroom, but the glare from the corner is still visibly letting the glare of the shine burn straight into my eyes.

Pulling the covers over my head for a few more minutes of sleep, I sink into my comforter and close my eyes.

"J–Lo!" I hear a voice sing throughout the halls of my house. I groan and tug my blanket over my ears to block out their horrible voice. "J–Lo!"

My room's door bursts open. "Go away."

"Now, now, don't be so vicious. Come on," My best friend, Justin, says, and hops onto my bed. "We got school."

"That's exactly why I told you to go away." I grumble.

Justin sighs and jumps under the covers with me. "Come on, just think, nine more months until summer!"

I turn my body around and face him. His black hair is sticking to my blankets from the static, and his blue eyes are shining with giddiness. I don't know why he's so happy about the first day of school; I certainly am not.

"Yes, because that helps so much, Justina. If you're so hyped for it, go ahead and leave me behind."

Justin is–to put it nicely–a nerd. I'm not saying he likes school, because he doesn't, but he does really, really well in it. Why he's so excited today for some reason, I don't know, but the last thing I want is to step foot in my high school.

He's very funny, and out-there. His personality is one that is so extroverted; he'd go out and be the life of the party without even doing anything. He's very annoying, but it's hard to not love or like him. He's so caring, and sweet, that every girl jumps at him. Adding onto that, to say he's cute is an understatement. For a sixteen year old, he's pretty damn attractive, and has already started on getting Santa Beard. Luckily he only keeps it at a stubble most times, but his whiskers are like knives when he lets his hair grow out.

He and I have been best friends for about four years now; since I moved to the States. We didn't really like each other's presence at first until we were partners for the rest of the year. After that, little by little we started to acknowledge one another, and then our friendship bloomed nicely. From then on, we became best friends ever since. He's my other half, and I honestly have no idea what I'd do without him. He's picked me up so much whenever I fall, and I can't help that one day it could all just stop.

It explains my exact panic for when college comes and we have to start looking at programs next year.

"Brookie, don't be so lazy. Come on, Lacey is waiting downstairs and you know how she gets when she has to wait." He pouts, and that seems to make me able to get out of bed. Lacey, another one of my best friends whom I've known a year longer than Justin, is a mean girl when she's kept waiting long periods of time. She's cute and likeable and innocent as hell until something sets her off. Whether that is her on-again-off-again boyfriend Casey, or her impatience, it's not a very pleasurable ride no matter what.

"Fine, fine, I'm up." I groan, and sit up, stretching out my arms and yawning. I take a huge breath, and get out of my queen-sized bed in just shorts and my bra. I stroll over to my closet to grab out today's attire, which is just going to be tight loose-fit joggers from Nike and a plain t-shirt.

I've gotten comfortable enough around Justin to be underdressed in front of him, but not fully. He's never seen what's under my bra and underwear, even though I'm not uncomfortable enough to do it. He always says something about respecting the female body and not taking us for granted or something like that.

I walk to my bathroom, brushing my teeth and brushing my long blonde hair. I apply some concealer to cover up the bags under my grey eyes, and a light coat of mascara and eyeliner. I turn the light out and head back into my room, where Justin sits at the edge of my bed, scrolling through his phone.

I grab the clothes from beside him and begin to change. "Have you lost weight?" Justin suddenly asks as he hands me my deodorant, and I apply it then throw the shirt over my head.

I gulp. "N-no, why?"

"You look it."

"Do I?"

"J-Lo. . ."

I slip off my shorts and tug on my sweats. "Just drop it, Justin, okay? I don't want to talk about it right now."

Justin sighs and runs his fingers through his hair. "Alright, fine." He agrees. "You'd tell me if you were going through anything, right?"

I smile at him and grab my bag. "Of course." He returns the look and tugs at my hand, dragging me downstairs. Walking into the living room, I see Lacey sitting in the living room on the couch, talking to my dad about something I don't understand. I acknowledge their presence, and stroll to the kitchen where my mom stands.

"No breakfast this morning?" I ask, and she doesn't turn around to face me.

"No," she answers. "You were sleeping in late, and your father and I are in a rush. We have a board meeting in Arizona we need to get to."

"You guys have been travelling a lot," I point out, "is something going on?"

"Yes, Brooklyn. I have big business proposals from the people in New York. They're very much interested in me."

"Of course they are." I mumble, a slight bit of disappointment in my voice.

My mother is a worker for some big sales company in the country. She's often travelling around to meetings, but one more than the others. It's a large exchange company based out of New York. She doesn't talk about her work a lot to me, but I've heard that they even go out of the country.

My father is a pilot, so he is gone a lot of the time as well. It just so happens that today is the day where my dad is flying mom to Phoenix, because he's flying all the way to Baltimore afterwards.

"Excuse me?" She says, turning around with a go-on-say-it-again expression.

I would say it again, to be honest.

"I said that's great," I lie, "congratulations, mother."

My mother gives me a glare then throws Pop-Tarts at me; S'mores flavoured. "Go to school."

I shrug, grabbing the Pop-Tarts from her hand as she turns around and continues making what I assume is her decaf coffee. I look around, seeing that nobody is watching me, and walk to the window of the backyard and throw the Pop-Tarts over the fence to the neighbour's house.

Their dog will thank me later.

I meet up with everyone in the living room, and throw on my running shoes. "I'm ready." I announce, and all eyes get drawn to me. Lacey looks relieved, and Justin jumps out of his seat and struts to get his backpack at the door, Lacey behind him. I walk over to my dad, giving him a hug and kiss on the cheek.

"So. . . when's she home?" I ask softly.

Dad sighs, and rubs his chin. "I'd like to say Wednesday, but depending on the meeting, she might be staying until Thursday."

"Oh."

"I'll send money in your account if she'll be staying any later." Dad says with a small smile. "If not, then you can just stay with Lacey or Justin for a few days."

I nod, and give him a sad smile before heading to the door.

I follow behind my friends, about to close the door behind me but stop in my tracks when my dad calls my name. "Yeah?"

"I love you."

"I love you too, dad."

I close the door.

***

Justin and I say our farewells to Lacey as we head different directions to our lockers. Justin's just so happens to be directly beside mine, so we head over together for our first class.

I throw my bag in my assigned locker and grab my books for Science; mine and Justin's first period, and slam the door shut. I lean against it and wait for Justin to finish.

"You seem moody today," he begins softly, "and you're not due for another week. Are you alright, J-Lo?"

I sigh, not knowing how to answer his question.

On the other hand, I can answer the one probably going on in your head right now: why does Justin–or Justina, as I like to name him–call me J-Lo?

The answer is simple: I have a big butt.

Yes, he stated exactly that that is why he calls me it. He said he'd call me Nicki Minaj, but 'her ass is as fake as Michael Jackson's face.' So, he said that Jennifer Lopez has a big, real butt, so that's a better name.

Hence, the birth of Brooklyn 'J-Lo' May.

"I'm fine," I answer, which is true. All in all, I'm fine. I'm agitated and very annoyed at my mother, but it's not a new feeling, so I can only remain the same.

She and I have a poor relationship. I don't know how or why, but we just were never close. She didn't talk to me unless she had to or wanted to–which is not often, by the way–so it's just really been my dad and I. Him and I are connected to the hip like me and Justin are, and it just makes everything easier. He knows how angry and stressed my mother makes me, but he tries his best to keep my mind off her, and I'm thankful for that.

"I'm sure things will get easier as the semester goes," Justin assures me, "you'll be busy that you won't even have time to be thinking about her."

"Thanks, Justina, really." I grin, and he closes his locker door, and slings an arm around me with a smile.

"Anytime."

As we head upstairs to the science room, and step inside, I can't help but have my stomach churn at seeing Stacy Collins playing tonsil hockey with one of the juniors in front of the door.

Stacy Collins: our version of high school slut. I can only name one person she hasn't gotten in bed with, and that's Justin, because he really doesn't like germs. Sexual germs, to be exact. If he thinks a living organism has an STI, then he's never going near them in terms that he could be prone to catching it.

"Stacy, please move two feet over or take your daily dose of Whoredom outside. You could blow up the lab with your infections." Justin says to her, and I snicker from behind him.

"The only infections I have are the ones that bring boys to me."

"That doesn't even make sense," I point out.

Stacy takes her eyes off Justin and looks at me dangerously. "What would you know, Brooklyn? You're not even from here, and the only thing you know is to make your fat stomach little again. How's that working out for you?"

"Shut up, Stacy." Justin growls, and my stomach drops. A golf ball sized lump gets formed in my throat and I feel my eyes prickle with tears.

Don't let her get to you, Brooke. She just wants to hurt you and make you feel like you're worthless.

Well, it's working.

"I can give you some dieting discs and pamphlets, if you'd like." She giggles.

"Go to hell." I growl, and nudge her shoulder forcefully, before getting pulled into class by Justin. He takes us to our seats and sits down beside me.

"Don't listen to her, Brookie," he whispers, "She's just being a bitch."

"I know," I murmur.

The bell rings just as the teacher walks in, closing the door behind him and tossing his briefcase on the ground at his desk. His brown hair is ruffled, but not in a gross way. He isn't an ugly teacher by any means. If I was fifteen years older, I'd be gawking. "Alright ladies and gentlemen, my name is Mr. Harris. I'll be your science teacher for the semester." The class does their shy share of welcomes, while the girls grin and flirtatiously respond their hellos. "Wonderful voices! Anyway, there's textbooks at the back of the classroom. Grab the Chemistry one and open it up to page seven."

***

The bell for lunch signals, and I sigh in relief once I leave my English room. I don't have any classes with Lacey or Justin in that one, so it was kind of silent and lonely. The whole period I ignored the introductory and paid attention to what Stacy was saying before the bell rung for first period.

Was it really that easy to notice how big I am?

Is size 5 in pants really that much?

I didn't think so, but now I am kind of thinking else wise. If Stacy saw it, everyone else must have too, right?

I bump into someone as I'm drowning in my thoughts, and mutter "sorry," before continuing to my locker. I drop my books in there and close the door, not bothering with grabbing any money when it'd be wasted for no reason.

I instead grab my charger for my phone and head to the cafeteria. I scan around looking for my friends, and spot them at one of the tables in the center of the room. I give Lacey and Johnny a small smile as I sit beside Lacey, Johnny across from me. "Hey guys."

"Why you looking so blue, Pooh?" Johnny asks, and I roll my eyes.

"I'm not." I answer.

"Are you going to go up and get something to eat? The café is serving wedges!" Lacey butts in, dipping her own wedges in a disgusting amount of ketchup.

"No, I'm not very hungry." I answer honestly. The run-in with Stacy still hasn't made me have an appetite like I wanted.

"Brooke, you gotta eat," Lacey says seriously. "I'll force my wedges down your throat if I have to."

"I do eat," I explain, "I just don't have an appetite today."

"You don't ever have an appetite," a voice says from behind me, and I turn around to see Justin and a couple of our other friends, Jason and Casey.

"What's it to you? It doesn't affect your life, Casey, so butt out of my business."

"Meow." Casey says as he places his tray of wedges and a burger in front of him beside Johnny. "Someone's PMSing."

Jason slaps Casey on the back of the head as he goes and sits beside Lacey. "Shut up, man! You can't just assume every girls bleeding because she's mouthy!"

"Then what other fucking excuse am I supposed to use?" He growls in response, rubbing his head where his friend hit him. Justin positions himself beside me and gives my right thigh a comfortable squeeze. Jason gives him a dangerous look before Casey finally looks at me. "Alright, alright, Jesus Christ." He clenches his jaw, "Brooklyn, baby, I'm sorry you're having personal issues."

Another thump on the back of his head, but this time it's Lacey. "Casey, babe," she says sweetly.

"Yes, honey?" He says through gritted teeth, rubbing his head once again.

"Shut up."

"Yes ma'am." He grumbles.

We all engage in our own little conversations, but I'm too busy scrolling through something on my phone to notice their discussions. I'm so distracted, I don't know if it's Facebook or Instagram. Yes, I'm that zoned out.

It isn't until someone tosses a piece of wedge at my face that I come back to Earth. "What?"

"Ugh, I told you she wasn't listening!" Lacey exasperates. "Johnny asked if you were going to Hillary's party Saturday."

"Hillary who? A party already? On the first week of school?" I ask, though I never meant for it to be intended as a question.

"Yeah, Hillary Bishop; girl who throws like, the best parties. So, are you going?"

I look over at Justin. He gives me a small smile and squeezes my leg again. I look back at Johnny, who looks hopeful. "Yeah, sure. Why not?"

"That's my girl!"

The bell for our two final periods rings and I mentally groan. My last two classes are drama and gym, which I am not looking forward to.

Casey catches up with me as I grab my gym uniform I got last month. "Yes?"

"You know I love you, right?" He asks, his own gym wear in his bag.

"Yes."

"You know I was kidding too–"

"Casey, I know. Don't stress about it." I brush it off.

Him and I have a touch and go relationship. Depending on our days, we're close friends, acquaintances, or enemies.

"Oh, don't worry, I'm not, but don't think I'm not going to stress about your new habits." He says a little more quietly so nobody can hear.

My eyes widen and I drag him over to a deserted corner. "Please don't. I don't want anyone involved."

"Does Lace know?" I shake my head. "At least tell me Justin does."

Whenever I get stressed, angry, drug, or I'm deep in thought or unconsciously mumbling, then my Spanish is spoken. And a lot, when I'm saying my speech fast, then my words can be incoherently heard. "He has his suspicions but it's not a big deal, Casey. Can we please not talk about this?"

"Wait, can you repeat that slower? Brook–"

"Drop it."

Casey huffs, but nonetheless rolls his eyes and leaves to the gym without any further words said. I sigh and make my way to the girls change rooms, where the first day of fitness starts. Yippee.

***

The rest of my classes flew by, and now I'm in the change room drying off my sweaty body. Luckily this was my last class, otherwise I would have definitely skipped last period to go shower. I squeeze into my sweats, and walk out of the stall.

Only to walk back in.

Stacy and a few of her little followers strut into the change rooms, and begin talking about all the girls in our gym class. Yes, sadly I have Stacy Collins in my PE class.

"Did you see Melinda fall flat on her face during stretches? God, that was hilarious!" One of her mini-sluts laughs.

"And Brooklyn, oh my God did you see her this morning? She looked skinnier than before lunch! She wouldn't even touch the water coach gave us." Says her other mini-slut. "I wonder if that's the Spanish's version of getting thin; starvation."

I gulp down the lump in my throat, and blink back the tears. I make it to the other doors not near the girls, but not in time for me to hear Stacy say, "Did you hear? She's bulimic now; not anorexic. That gross attention drawer."

I sigh, letting the waterworks finally fall once I burst open the exit and storm to my locker hurriedly. I spin in my code and grab everything I need to go home, and rush to the doors.

Justin and Lacey and the three other boys are stood at the doors, talking about something, but they all stop once they notice my fast pace. Justin's face is confused at first, but once he sees my tear-stained cheeks, his expression goes hard and cold and angry.

"J–Lo? What's wrong?" He asks, running up and wrapping his hands on my shoulders firmly and examines me for any wounds. You aren't going to find any signs on my body, Justina.

He grabs me by the arm forcefully but gently, and leads us away from our concerned friends.

"Who did this?" He demands, pointing to my face as he wipes some fallen tears.

"It's nothing, Justin. . ." I trail off, but the frustrated look on his face makes me hover. "It was just Stacy and her trolls."

"What did they do?" He asks, "So help me god, if she did what she did last year–"

"No, she didn't," I butt in, "she just said. . . she said that I went from anorexic to bulimic."

His eyes widen and eyebrows furrow; mouth dropping and fists clenching around my shoulders. I see the veins in his neck start to poke out his skin, and once his eyes reach mine, they soften and he un-tenses and pulls me into a hug I very much needed.

"Don't listen to her, Brookie. She doesn't know you." He murmurs softly in my hair.

"I know," I mumble, hugging his chest tighter. "Thank you, Justin."

"Anything for you, babe." He murmurs. "Now, let's go deal with that bitch's attitude."