The Ferris wheel. Best ride ever invented.

I was always a bit of a daredevil when it came to roller coasters. And yet, even though it's one of the least thrilling attractions, I always circled back to the Ferris wheel. It was something about the wait to reach the top, even if for a fleeting moment, just to be sent curving downwards right after. A cycle that never gets old – at least not to me.

My past English teachers would've wanted me to say something like, 'Life shouldn't be lived at full-throttle all the time, but in constant ebbs and flows of anticipation and gratitude for the next adventure to come.' Personally, I felt like I could spend an entire day just going round and round, hanging on in childlike anticipation until I reached the top again, stretching my fingers up to the skies.

Unfortunately, today was not that day.

"Chloe, you coming with us?" Joy offered, dragging me out of my thought bubble. Her grin was large and fake. Despite her name, she was not joyful to be around. Standing on either side of her were two of her closest underlings.

I sighed, feeling my stomach lurch with reluctance. "Yeah."

Those three girls were never really my friends. They were usually tolerable, but neither I nor they went out of our way to hang out with each other. The only reason I tagged along was to try to soak up my last days in Minnesota. I'd lived there my whole life; and now, at seventeen, my parents announced that we were moving. Dad was offered a huge advancement opportunity in his career, so that was taking us three to California. It'd be an almost four-hour flight from Shorewood to San Diego. My things had to be packed by the start of July.

Solitude has its benefits, but it also has downsides. There were always times when I wanted to be left to my own devices, but I didn't like being alone when I had the opportunity to be with other people. Although I really didn't have any friends at Minnetonka High. I just hung out with Joy so I wasn't a complete social outcast. The annual Summer Carnival was taking place right now, and I really wanted to go since it was my last day in town, even if I had to spend it with girls who made me want to launch myself into a bottomless pit.

Joy led me to a ride that had six long, curved arms reaching out from the centre of it. Attached to each arm was a metal cubby with worn leather seats. Beside the entrance gate was a big, cartoonish sign that read, 'The Octopus'. Despite its childish name, that thing went really fast.

"Three to a seat," grunted the scruffy man who was collecting pass tickets.

Joy turned to me. "Oh, I'm sorry. Rules are rules, I guess." She declared this with no sympathy whatsoever in her voice.

"That's fine, I'm feeling kinda sick anyway," I lied.

I watched as they handed their tickets to the man and took their seats in a cubby. Joy whispered something to her friend and she shot me a death glare. The other girl snickered. I was half-upset and half-relieved. I rolled my eyes and walked over to a carnival food stand.

"One funnel cake with strawberry syrup please," I requested. The girl standing behind the counter nodded and proceeded to pour liquid dough into the deep fryer. It made a high-pitched sizzling sound when it hit the oil.

A big gust of wind made my t-shirt stick to my torso. After paying, I walked over to a nearby bench and sat down. The funnel cake was still warm, and the powdered sugar mixed with the strawberry syrup tasted comforting.

Ding! My mom texted me.

Having fun at the carnival?

No not really, can you pick me up? I replied.

I'm sorry to hear that. Of course, I'll be there in 10

I threw out my trash and headed toward the exit gate. Suddenly, I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was Joy.

"Uh, where are you going so soon?" she pressed, her bright blue nails still digging into my arm.

I slapped her hand away. "I'm going home. Why would I stay here?"

"Is this about the ride thing? I didn't know it was only three people to a seat," she claimed.

"Yeah, but you didn't care. At all."

"Oops? Hey, could you at least buy us some cotton candy? Y'know, since this whole outing was my idea..."

"That's it. I've had enough," I snapped. "No, I'm not going to buy you cotton candy, or that bottle of perfume, or that ninety-dollar sweater! Especially not after the way all of you have been treating me!"

Thank god the commotion around us was so loud that nobody else could hear us.

I went on, "You constantly talk about yourself and nothing else! You think that you're the queen of the world and everything revolves around you! Well, guess what? It doesn't! You're all self-absorbed, malicious, pathological, gossiping losers! And I can't believe I've spent so much time with you. You just want me to buy you everything as if I'm a...walking ATM! Kick rocks, Joy."

With that, I sharply turned on my heel and walked away without looking back once. I simply didn't care to see their reactions.

Okay, that was probably over the top. But she deserved it. In my defense, it could be impossible to tell what she was really like just by looking. She'd always ask me to buy her stuff. And I caved more than I wanted to admit. I just had no idea where all of it came from. Jealousy? Pettiness? Downright aggression? How would I know?

After waiting on the curb for about two minutes, my mom's Mercedes-Benz pulled up in front of me. I quickly climbed into the passenger seat.

She gave me a concerned side glance. "What's wrong, honey? I thought you loved carnivals."

"I did, um– I do, but Joy completely wrecked it," I explained, buckling my seatbelt. I then proceeded to tell my mother everything that happened.

"I really am sorry that you have to constantly be around such poor-mannered girls," she replied after stopping at a red light. "You know that you deserve better friends, right?"

I nodded silently. "Was it...wrong that I kinda exploded?"

Mom pursed her lips for a moment. "No," she answered finally, "I don't think it was wrong. Maybe it was a little too heated, sure, but you gave them an awakening that they undoubtedly needed. You just had a lot bottled up inside you."

I nodded again. Should I apologize? Or should I just say nothing? Tomorrow is the very last day of school and I have no idea what's going to happen...

"Don't be nervous about tomorrow, honey," Mom chuckled. "You'll be fine."

"Is it that obvious?"

"You're twiddling your thumbs. You always do that when you're nervous."

I stopped and crossed my arms.

Ten minutes later, the car pulled up onto our driveway. Some would call my house immense, with multiple floors and a basement, spacious rooms and a lush backyard. I guess since I've always lived there, I've never really thought about it that much. My mom parked the car in one of the two garages and we headed inside.

"I'll go start dinner," Mom declared, slipping off her shoes and heading into the kitchen.

I closed my bedroom door behind me and flopped down on my bed. The sheets smelled faintly like floral fabric softener. I opened my laptop and watched some YouTube videos to help distract my mind. I would either do that, or listen to music. Both helped me ignore how nervous I was for the next day. Maybe I could just stay home...

I kept quiet at the dinner table since Dad was talking about his job. He was a marketing manager, which I guess had a great salary. Mom, on the other hand, was the head designer of her own high-end clothing brand. They specialized in formal wear and made anything from cocktail dresses to wedding gowns and tuxedos. The company also designed costumes, and sometimes they'd get an order from a famous movie or TV show director asking for custom-made, one-of-a-kind looks for characters. Mom's even been hired as a costume designer for certain productions. I never hesitated to give my opinion on a sketch whenever she'd ask. Since her business had locations all over North America and an online website, she'd just be transferring to go work in the office in San Diego. Dad's job took him all over the place. He frequently went on business trips throughout my entire childhood. But since he got offered a big promotion, it necessitated a bigger office with more connections.

After dinner, I went back up to my room and got changed into my pyjamas. I stood in front of my full-length mirror. Standing upright, my frame didn't fit entirely in the mirror – I was tall for my age. The summer sun had tanned my skin, save for the purplish bags under my eyes. Dad and I shared their hazel-green colouring, but heterochromia turned three-quarters of my left eye dark brown. I've gotten my fair share of teasing and name-calling over the years because of my oddity, but mostly the classic 'you have something in your eye' comment. I yawned and glanced at my alarm clock. 8:27, it read in electric blue numbers. Time flew so quickly.

Even though my bedroom was a lot larger than average, it was currently much emptier than usual. In fact, the whole house was like that, because we'd already packed up almost everything else. All of it was being shipped to San Diego before our flight. Dad explained that we had to send it all early because it would take the moving trucks about twenty-nine hours to get from here to there, not including stops. Our flight was in three days. I just had to make it through school tomorrow.

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

Snapping out of my thoughts, I quickly said goodnight to my parents before climbing into bed. I was exhausted. I turned to my clock. It was a quarter after nine; usually, I didn't go to sleep this early, but I was spent. I stared out through the window in my ceiling over my bed, gazing at the glimmering crescent moon and the millions of stars sprawled out across the night sky. It wasn't long before my eyelids became too heavy to keep open and I fell deeper and deeper into a calming sleep.

----------------------------------------

Two days until the move.

I woke up at 6:30 a.m. to the sound of music blasting through my alarm clock's radio. The sun wasn't very high in the sky yet. After dozing for a few minutes, I switched off my alarm and forced myself to get up. Thankfully, a cool shower always shakes away the drowsiness.

I wonder what my life will be like when I move, I thought. Hopefully, I'll make some cool friends...and my classes won't be impossible. And my house will be nice. I wonder if my new room has enough space for everything? Ugh, I still need to pack the rest of my stuff...

I exited the shower minutes later, combing my hair in the process. Downstairs, my parents were sitting at the kitchen table, eating breakfast. Dad was reading the newspaper and Mom was checking business stocks on her tablet.

She caught my eye. "Morning Chloe! Sleep well?"

"Fine," I answered.

"Pancakes?" Dad offered.

I nodded and took a seat at the kitchen island with a plate of pancakes and maple syrup, bacon, scrambled eggs, and fresh fruit with whipped cream. I wanted to make sure I wouldn't get hungry before lunch, so I ate quickly in order to finish it all. It wasn't long before I said goodbye, slipped on my shoes, and dashed out the door.

This is the last time that I'm going on this bus... I thought as I took my seat. We arrived at Minnetonka High shortly.

First and second period went by surprisingly smoothly with nothing unusual. But by the time lunch rolled around, things got heated – and quick. I'd decided to eat with some acquaintances from my math class. They were nice and all, but we never clicked. They were friendly enough to let me hang out with them, although I always questioned if it was out of pity.

Then, out of the blue, a quiet but noticeable chorus of snickers erupted from a certain table. Nobody else seemed to notice, but it was screaming in my ears. I glanced briefly over my shoulder and saw that everybody at that table was staring directly at me. Joy and a few of her evil servants then casually strolled over and stood right behind me, pretending I wasn't even there.

"Seriously. I mean, does she really think she's fooling anyone? It's not like people don't know what she's like," Joy quipped.

"I know, right? She's so gross," another girl proclaimed, completely ignoring my presence and the fact that I could hear every word they spat out. The group continued back and forth in this manner.

"Oh, you don't know the half of it. You should've seen her in eighth grade. It was like, she tried to act like she was better than everyone else. Never grew out of that..."

"Ugh, I remember. With those braces and that acne? And the fucked up eye? I felt bad for the teachers. They had to look at her every day."

"All that money, and her parents can't even fix her face?"

"Exactly. It's like, I wonder what goes on inside her head. It's just...sad."

"Yikes, she probably hates herself... This school is going to be a whole lot better when she's gone."

The words rang in my head.

This school is going to be a whole lot better when she's gone.

A whole lot better when she's gone.

Gone.

BANG.

My fists slammed onto the table as I shot straight up out of my seat and whipped around. My face was inches away from Joy's. I was furious. She smirked. I stood taller than her, but she didn't back down. At this point, the cafeteria had quieted, and everyone within earshot of the commotion had turned around to witness the quarrel.

"What the HELL is your problem?!" I shouted, my voice loud enough to echo against the back wall.

Joy took a step back. I saw the surprise in her eyes as she scrambled to recover. "Excuse me? You're the one with a problem. Or several. Maybe you need to take a good look at yourself in the mirror."

"Really? If you think I'm such a pathetic, hideous loser, then why do you waste your time harassing me?" I retorted. "What could possibly make me so worth it to you?"

"I don't know... Maybe it's because you act so high and mighty. Always flaunting your money and thinking you're so much better than everyone else when you're not!" she responded with a scowl, looking at me as if I was a worm under her foot.

My hands balled into tight fists. "And who are you to say who's better than everyone else? You? With all those fake friends who grovel at your feet like you're some sort of goddess?"

Joy simply folded her arms. "Uh, news flash. You're a nobody. Even if you're rich, you don't have any friends to speak of, and you're about to go off to some new school to become an obnoxious loser all over again." She scoffed. "So don't act like I'm the one who has problems here. If I'm so awful, then why are you getting all defensive and crazy? Face it. I'm right."

"Shut. Up." I felt my whole face growing hot.

Her eyes narrowed. "Make me."

It took a lot for me to get truly angry. But when I got angry, I was furious. And...also impulsive.

So, then it happened.

I slapped her hard, right across the cheek.

I slapped Joy Toscano. One of the most popular girls in the eleventh grade. Honours student. The girl who'd had her life figured out since she was born. I slapped her across the face.

And... It felt amazing.

Then, everything was in slow-motion.

Murmurs and whispers wove through the room. I could feel the heat radiating off my face. We both stood still, my hand raised in the air and Joy's face sharply turned to the left. She tenderly touched her cheek, which flushed red. You could almost see the individual finger marks. She then straightened her head.

"You... You BITCH!" she shrieked.

I lowered my hand. My expression turned from furious to anxious. I backed away slowly before bolting out of the room.

I ran and ran, tearing through the halls and down flights of stairs, disregarding the confused looks people shot in my direction. They either laughed or called out to me as I sprinted by. I didn't care. I just wanted to get out. My legs were numb. My arms were numb. My head was numb.

I didn't stop running until I reached the girl's bathroom on the third floor, the one that was almost always vacant. I slammed and locked the stall door behind me. I pressed my back against the wall, then slid down until I was sitting with my knees against my chest. A tear dripped onto my leg. I wasn't aware that I was crying until now. Seeing myself in the mirror on the back of the door made me cry even harder. Mascara had started running down my cheeks. I curled up even tighter against myself, burying my face into my knees. The things those girls said kept replaying over and over in my brain. I hated Joy. I hated school. But more than anything, I hated myself for crying.

Eventually, my breathing returned to normal. I furiously wiped my eyes, half-fixing my mascara problem, before standing up and stepping back into the main part of the bathroom. Thank god there was nobody there. Right then, people were probably talking about me. For once, I had become the current subject of the gossip rotation. I didn't want to think about it at all.

This had never happened before. I was never looked at or talked to all that much. I was invisible. Nobody bothered to have anything to do with me. It was peaceful, in some ways. I didn't mind it. I became accustomed to the feeling. There was rarely any pressure or worry. Now, suddenly, it was all different. Everything changed. I hated that, too.

"Stop...crying, Chloe," I muttered through gritted teeth. My hands clenched the edges of the sink. "Don't let her get to you. You have no reason to be crying."

A loud bell rang through the school, signifying the end of lunch. There was no way I was going back to class.

"Hello dear, something I can do for you?" Principal Cowles peered at me over the purple glasses that sat atop her nose. Her cheeks were bright and rosy. I never understood how she was always so cheerful.

"Um, yes actually," I murmured, trying to keep my voice steady. I stepped farther into the school office. "I'm not feeling so well; could I call my mom to pick me up early?"

Her expression turned from cheery to concerned. She quickly nodded. "That's a pity. Of course you can call, hun."

I took out my phone from my pocket and dialled Mom's number.

She picked up almost right away. "Hello?"

"Hey Mom, it's me. I'm kinda sick. Can you come get me?"

"Okay, I'll be there as soon as I can. Love you."

I hung up and slumped into a nearby seat. This certainly wasn't an ideal way to spend the last day of school. I should've seen it coming. But I was stuck there, alone with my thoughts, while I waited for my mother.

She arrived shortly, and as we were walking toward the exit, I could feel dozens of pairs of eyes burning into the back of my skull. I silently said my goodbyes to Minnetonka before shutting the passenger door.

"What's up, sweetheart?" Mom questioned, sounding worried. "I don't think I've seen you sick all year... Are you really feeling that bad?"

I pressed my fingers to my temples. "No, Mom. Headache. I'll be fine. I just don't want to be here."

She looked over at me quizzically. "Chloe... You know you can tell me if there's something bothering you. You don't have to pretend around me."

"Mom. Please?" I sighed.

"...All right. If you insist... Just... Try to rest," she murmured as we pulled out of the parking lot.

I felt guilty fibbing, but I was emotionally exhausted, and the last thing I wanted to do was explain everything that happened and get angry again. Knowing Mom, she'd probably call the school and Joy's parents, demanding an apology. Sometimes adults just make things worse.

I knew I needed to leave Minnesota. I needed a clean slate. I didn't need any trouble, attention, or drama. I just wanted to do my work and blend in like a normal teenager. That's all I wanted.