Yes, I turned Andy Biersack -*cough sexiest man alive cough*- into a normal player, without all his fantasic makeup and god-given music.

Bite me.

*~*~*~*

Large, white foamy waves crash down onto the beach, washing across darker wet sand swiftly before pulling back and repeating the process. Something salty wafts through the air-clogging my senses, and the sun beats heavily down onto the beach from above. My toes curl into the dry white sand, making a small squeaking sound.

I stare at my toes in disbelief, "It squeaks!"

My toes instantly move, trying to recreate the sound. I don't notice my mother walking up beside me, questioning my sanity, "What are you doing?"

"It squeaks."

"Does it?" Her toes start to rapidly curl and uncurl. Her eyes widen in surprise and, like an excited child, she begins to giggle manically and continue curling her toes. I sigh softly, hiding a smile as I shake my head and look back towards the ocean.

My mother gathers up most of her hair, tying it back, and murmurs, "So are you ready for school?"

I stare blankly at the waves. My stomach drops through my feet, twisting and churning in the sand. I try to imagine it; the idea of starting a brand new school, as a senior... it terrifies me to no end. I'll know no one. Everyone will already have their own groups; they will be unwilling to let an outsider in. It'll be like freshman year all over again, only without the minor comforting promise of a best friend or a past friend waiting for you at lunch.

"The first day starts Monday. My boss was kind enough to enroll you for me, since she is located here as well. If you want, we can go clothes shopping later on today or tomorrow." She continues to babble, gaze avoiding my direction. I wonder if it's because I got sick last time we 'discussed' the whole prospect of moving and starting anew. "I'll even help you unpack your room-"

"No," Worry spikes through my chest, "Don't worry about it. We can go later." I don't want her going through my crap. I don't know where those hands have been.

She smiles slightly, "Alright, I won't touch your room. I just didn't want you to get so stressed out with trying to unpack and keep up with schoolwork at the same time."

I shrug, "I'll manage."

She lets out a small, content little sigh. "It's just all coming together, Alice. Everything is falling into place." She gestures to the ocean, and then to the house, "Everything is just beautiful. We have enough money to live comfortably and you'll be graduating this year, so you can get a job."

My nose scrunches up as I try to list all the places I could possibly work, places that would accept my awesome sarcastic and narcissistic ways.

So far I have none.

My mother soon leaves, making her way back into the house to start unpacking our suitcases. People roam the floors, setting down a couch here, a chair there. They set up our beds upstairs and make sure they are facing the direction we want. My room is simple-white washed walls with light wood furniture and crimson red sheets. The queen-sized bed faces the double-door balcony, that overlooks the ocean, and a vanity-dresser is pushed against the wall several feet away from it, facing the bed. A desk sits on the other side of the bed, also facing said object, with a television sitting on a higher shelf connected to the desk and a sleek white laptop sitting just below it. I end up sitting on my bed, toes brushing against the curly-ringed carpet that was placed beneath my bed, over the hardwood floor.

I feel like I have a bunch of tiny pig-tails between my toes.

My phone sits on the other side of the bed, silent. I'm sure if I had any friends, it would be vibrating so much it would fall off and onto the floor. But I have none. I wasn't exactly friendly after Jake passed.

I feel so lonely.

It's like living in a bubble. You're surrounded by people, bustling around with their busy little lives and loved ones, while you sit off to the side, in a bubble; a bubble so thick you cannot punch through it. No one can hear you. 

You're just there. 

I lean back, palms supporting my upper torso, and watch the curtains float gently in the ocean-side breeze. They are somewhat transparent, so I can see parts of the ocean through the fiery red. I can just barely see tiny ant-sized couples roaming along the beach, hand in hand, and best friends splashing in the waves.

"Knock, knock."

I glance back over my shoulder as my mother pokes her head into the room, knuckles rapping against the door. She smiles slightly, comfortingly, and enters fully, "Ready to go shopping?"

My back hits the mattress, eyes falling shut, "I did say we'd do that today, didn't I?"

"Well, you did say later. I wasn't sure how later, but I figured we could go get some dinner after at one of the restaurants here. There are a lot of little seafood places. Some even sit on the beach; how cute is that?"

I nod mutely. I'm not a big fan of seafood, but when you're living next to a beach, eating fish is kind of inevitable. I slide off my bed and onto the floor. My mother watches as I roll over, onto my stomach, and then start army-crawling towards the door because I'm too lazy to get up.

"Should I be concerned about you?" Her eyebrows become one with her hairline.

"Yes," I make it out the door, "Yes, you should."

*~*~*~*~*~*

 The mall is huge. Two stories tall, with peach-colored walls and crisp, barely damaged signs hanging everywhere, advertising the many stores set up inside. I fumbled after my mom, trying to keep up with her penguin-like waddle as she rushed through the shiny glass doors. We went everywhere; from large department stores like Dillard's to the smaller, more focused stores like Hot Topic; I basically bought a new wardrobe. 

It was alright, at least until my mom complained about the amount of money she was so willingly spending on me. 

Now we sit in the food court, awkwardly spooning noodles from the Japanese restaurant into our mouths. Teenagers surround us on all sides, laughing loudly over perverted comments and shouting. Food is shoveled down their mouths, but does little to muffle the obnoxious sounds they make. The females have no food, however -or if they do, they've simply pushed it towards the boys. They laugh loudly, nasally, and one fixes her makeup using the metallic napkin dispenser on the edge of their table.

One even stares longingly at a tray of french-fries. 

It makes me wonder...

Will I really have to subject myself to that kind of bodily torture in order to fit in? 

I shudder at the thought and take a big bite of my noodles, basking in the warm goodness as it slithers down my throat. My mom laughs and makes a comment about the malnutrition-ed twigs -apparently, my expression gave away my thoughts. Or maybe it was my extensive staring. 

"I guess I don't have to worry about you starving yourself, now do I?" She chuckles around a fork full of fried rice. 

My nose curls up. "I love food too much." 

"Thank the lord." She shakes her head and peers at the rowdy teens from the corners of her eyes. "If they stuff their bras anymore they're gonna' snap in half. The spine is not meant to carry all that weight up there without proper support around the base." 

"Mom!" I gasp, almost choking on my noodles. 

"What?" She glances back towards me. "It's true!" She jabs her plastic fork in my direction and scoops up another fill of rice. "Anyways, most boys prefer a little meat. I'll bet you ten bucks those girls haven't kept a decent boyfriend-"

"If they hear you, I am going to hurt you." I throw a napkin at her. "I might have to go to school with these people. I don't want to walk into class on the first day and picture a bunch of broken Barbies in the seats." 

My mom grins wickedly. "I think that'd make an excellent visual -especially if they turn out to be bitches." 

I shake my head and drown myself in noodles. Snickering to herself, my mother continues to eat until the box is empty -a rare feat, considering how much food the clerk had given us. My mother stands, pushing all her trash and most of mine into the box her food came in, and then starts towards the trashcan nearest to the teenagers. 

Almost immediately, I stand and start speed-walking towards the nearest bathroom. 

"Why hello there, do any of you attend Glenn-wood High?" I hear her ask behind me. It takes all the will-power inside of me not to throw the nearest chair at the back of her head. "Oh! My daughter will be attending this year -there she is now!" 

Twitching, I slow to a stop in front of a smoothie shop. The cashier smiles at me -a pitiful look that makes my insides clench. I order a quick smoothie, pay, and then turn around, fighting back a grimace when I see my mother frantically waving me over. 

At a closer inspection, I realize the teenagers are all strikingly gorgeous. It's like I'm Bella Swan, walking towards the Cullen's table for the first time in Twilight. Three girls sit across the back of the booth, all three different shades of blonde. The smaller, pixie-like one to the right, however, has dark red roots. Her hazel eyes meet mine directly, narrowed slightly, but not vicious -like the other two. Bimbo One and Bimbo Two, on the other hand, are both natural blonds and have ice cold glares. 

The guys are somewhat similar. Like with the girls, only one really sticks out from the trio -someone who doesn't look like he belongs, and yet totally does in the same sense. 

If that even makes sense. 

His hair is dark, a disheveled mop of ink cut short, almost spiked up. The corner of his mouth is tugged up, into a wickedly crooked smile. And, unfortunately, I feel my heart pick up in speed when my gaze meets his clear baby-blues. 

Well shit.

This could not be happening.

No way. I was not crushing on some rowdy teenager from the mall -someone I'd never seen before today. I am not crushing on someone who, not only is from this little slice of smoking-hot hell, but my mother has already talked to -and embarrassed me in front of. 

I scowl at him and look to the other's, who both sport matching football-jackets and curly brown hair. One snickers into the other's shoulder, while said other makes an 'Oooo' sound towards Blue-eyes. 

Red-roots snorts under her breath. 

"Well," Bimbo One, or the blond in the middle, smiles placidly at my mother -much to her delight, "It's always nice meeting the newbies. We'll be sure to look for you on the first day of school, okay, Alexis?" 

And try to trash-can me. 

Or maybe take my lunch money. 

"It's Alice." I smile sweetly. "But it's nice to meet you too, Barbie." 

And with that, I take a long sip of my smoothie, enjoy the slightly confused look on Bimbo One's face, and then drag my mother out of the mall.