Bad Girl

"I'm done, cupcake. I can't anymore," he mumbled, wiping his eyes. I turned to look at him and took his head into my hands. Both my hands were on either sides of his cheeks. "You're not done. You can do this Ace. I know you can," I murmured, staring at him sadly. *** Meet Victoria Grey Leigh. She's a good girl-- a girl who always tries her best in school. The majority of people at PromWell High School look up to her as an example of a perfect student. But Victoria's fed up of being a good girl. She wants to be different but how can she possibly do that? There are a lot of things Victoria does to be counted as bad but does going out with the hottest boys in town and trashing your best friend's house count as bad? Victoria Leigh. Hmm, it did sound like a good girl's name. It sounded like the type of girl who handed her homework in all the time -- the girl that scored straight A's in all her exams and tests, never failed a subject, even PE, always listened to her dad and a girl who never interfered with any bad people. Ever.Victoria Leigh happened to be my name, and I happened to be a very good girl. My life was very simple. When I got handed homework, I did it -- even though deep down inside I didn't actually want to. If I found out about a test, I would study and revise all night long in agony; then ace it. I didn't get rewarded -- made just a 'well done' would do -- which was what mainly made me drown in boredom.Not just that, but I obeyed my parents. I never went to any of the parties people I knew went to on the weekends, sometimes. Not even a droplet of alcohol has touched my taste buds-- at least, I think so. And I'm sure my brain hasn't ever thought about cigarettes-- or even thought about committing any crimes, like stealing. It wasn't like I had a reason to steal, anyway.My parents were rich.I lived in a big house with myself, my little brother and my parents only. It was a small street, with a few big houses. The house I lived in was perfect. I had my little bedroom- although I wouldn't count it as little. It was big. I would be in there nearly all day and my parents would somehow think I was out because even my shouts couldn't be heard from their room because the house was so spaced out.

Pages: 148, Paperback, Ottavio Ferrante