Like most teenagers, I loved my phone - even if it constantly lacked in storage space, lagged at moments or constantly gave me stupid messages telling me that my apps had stopped.

However, I just felt like chucking it to the far end of the bedroom at the moment - to which there were three detailed explanations to why I'd take my anger out on such a valuable electronic device, complete with evidence and Deepness 100.

Firstly, I screwed up on my second Physics test of the year today and walked out of the room feeling like an idiot - while Julie discussed questions with her friends, brown eyes twinkling behind her thick ass black glasses - that smartass had probably gotten full marks again. Worst of all, it was Friday - and I was in no way agreeing with TGIF at the moment.

Secondly, I was on my period. Yes, for real. The cramps were there to confirm it, and Mom was trying to explain the concept of the female body to Sebastian, who claimed I was acting like a mad woman. Fair statement, I guess, but I wasn't going to let him think that.

Thirdly, my phone was magically generating ten billion messages by the second. Well, actually not magically - Julie had set up a group chat for the project and was frantically reminding us that we would all go online to do it tonight. We already heard that message, goddamnit.

Even despite already knowing Julie was living a grade-obsessed life where she was constantly calculating how she could get an extra half-mark, I couldn't help but continue to despise the way she managed to put on this 'good girl' image and make everyone believe she had both high IQ and EQ. How was anyone able to do it without getting annoyed with their own selves and even make others follow suit? None of the Intellectuals, not a single one of them, had Instagram - it was a strange cultish thing about removing all distractions and placing all emphasis and focus on grades. Yes, social media was really toxic and full of cyberbullying (as well as teacher-slamming) but to have an entire clique without social media? It was just a bit unbelievable in this day and age that the lot of them would submit to this strange unspoken rule.

Sitting alone in the solitude of my bedroom, my cup of hot green tea as my sole, loyal companion, I tried to do some homework in vain - I just was not in the mood for such a brain-draining activity that involved the vague mention of stretching my mind - correction, I mean graphs. With a sigh, I picked up my computer and entered the dreaded slides that were already bursting with comments, attempting to put in my part of the work.

It was so totally normal and non-creepy that Julie was stationing herself online and occasionally hopping to the pages I was tasked to do. It was also totally justified for her to be sending me long ass WhatsApp messages about what I could improve on - sarcasm intended.

Hey Selene, do you mind explaining more on the imagery and the significance of the colour red? Thank you so much !!

I see, could you still please add more explanation? Thank you!

Wow, really? Just because she's a smart know-it-all does not mean she gets to snub me and tell me that my literary skills are shit-

But your skills ARE shit, Selene, a small voice in my head said. Julie had a know-it-all attitude which I hated, but what I hated more was how she always happened to be right, even if I didn't like that she was correct at all.

The speaker, Selene Chan, is 'seeing red' due to her intense and raw anger towards a certain Juliette Quinton, who is being an annoying know-it-all who thinks that intellect equals the right to boss others around. Perhaps it is her right, in a world where logic is always put first, but it is still extremely annoying.

As my phone continued to receive new group chat messages that Sarah and Annabelle were most likely submitting to, I aggressively chucked it aside and grabbed my backpack rather angrily, searching for my school diary - a black notebook with the iconic Rifton badge on it that we were supposed to use to stay organised in school. Unfortunately, my life had become far from organised the moment I entered this school, with homework avalanches coming at me in all directions - a freaking notebook with the letter R in sans-serif font wasn't going to help it.

But you know what was going to make me feel happier?

A sinister smile stretched my lips as I slowly removed a beige-coloured ring notebook from my backpack, a notebook that I'd kept within a separate compartment. I undid the band and flipped to the first page that contained the calligraphy words.

Julie's Journal!!

For countless days, after Mrs Harvey, our old literature teacher who adored Julie, left the school for Silvercreek, leaving us with a parting gift of one beige notebook each, I had witnessed multiple students using it in school - some as a bullet journal, some as a random notebook, others using it for crazy drawings with purposely frightening anatomy measurements. Mine had been kept aside for future use - but it was a piece of common knowledge that Juliette Quinton used hers as a diary, or journal, as she insisted it was called.

Today, during my recess break, I'd entered Ms Woods' classroom early to 'do my work' and conveniently swapped my notebook for Julie's - that girl was a creature of habit, and I had noticed her always dumping her stuff on her table before going to lunch. I'd made sure to wipe down my notebook the night before and tear off any pages that I'd drawn or written on in the past. Thankfully, there weren't many since I wasn't fond of notebooks with metal rings, and from observation of being in every Thursday class of Julie's, I knew how hectic the day would be and how Julie always used the Rifton school diary to record her homework, only touching her journal in free periods. I deduced that she wouldn't smell a rat until she opened it up at home and realised that someone had switched it.

And she didn't.

I'm sorry, Mrs Harvey's notebook, it was nice knowing you. Sadly, you're serving a greater purpose here. I promise it's going to be worth it.

With that, I turned the page to a journal entry.

I'm kinda upset and annoyed that Kendall topped the class for the Biology test with full marks. I had to settle for second in class??

I can't believe it, I studied till midnight for that and only to fall below my target. Mom says it's fine, but that's not good enough. I mean, she never says anything, but she's all ready to brag about me to Auntie Clara about me being valedictorian, and she gives me that guilt-trip face whenever I don't do as well as Tiffany. She expects all this from me in secret while pretending to be okay with anything I do.

I wish she'd just stop.

Love, Julie

I narrowed my eyes in distaste. Okay, it was time to flip. I was here for the teas, not to feel sorry for Julie and what might either be her sad life with a passive-aggressive family of fakers, or manifestations of her tortured, prodigy mind that insisted that any failure to excel was the end of the world.

I flipped past calligraphy art and happy entries about good grades, olympiad golds and fun outings till I found what I wanted - the brutal, honest truth about the Intellectuals.

It's been six months in Rifton Girls' High... and yet, I'm unhappy.

What a mood.

All of them are hanging around me because of my grades, and we can all smile and laugh about it, but it's the truth. Especially with regards to Abby. She's super indiscreet in the way she just asks me things like 'OMG Julie, how are you so smart' and how she just keeps pestering me to help her with her work. It's supposed to be annoyingly endearing, but it's just annoying. Same goes for the others; Sarah has the most tact about it, but I see right through all of them. I studied and worked towards everything I achieved. It was all pure hard work and effort - do they think they can just cozy up to me and I'll be spilling all my secrets to sucess? Honestly, they can dream on.

Love, Julie

So it was true - behind the facade of a good girl, Julie was hiding her hate for the girls she called her very best friends. And honestly, I kind of got it. It was kind of sad, because this was how Rifton worked, with your self-worth was measured in test grades, school leadership badges and gold medals. And perhaps, Julie was just another victim.

I continued flipping the pages. More angst, more whining and multiple complaints about the slight inconveniences in her life... and then I spotted my name.

I was mentioned.

I lowkey feel sorry for her, but at the same time, I can see why Selene's being treated like that. For whatever reason, I think it's just her being socially awkward, but it gives of really bad vibes that make her seem off. But honestly, she's weird in many aspects.

Wow, thanks, totally makes me feel better, Julie.

I've tried to be nice and offer help whenever, but I don't think it's working out because no offense, but she is a wreck in many areas. Understandable, given that Natalie and Gillian's friend group said all those things about her and basically dragged her name through the mud and made everyone exclude her, but all she brings to the table are problems and that's not my responsibility at this point.

Okay, now I was mad. Or maybe, I could even say pissed.

When the hell did I ever ask her to fix my issues? When did I ever make it her responsibility? What, when did I ever give her an excuse to pin me as a toxic trainwreck destroying her opportunities for self-care?!

Just like that, any second thoughts were erased, and I remembered why I wanted her social life ruined again.

I never asked to be her charity case. I just thought she genuinely wanted to help, genuinely wanted to help me re-assimilate into the cutthroat world of Rifton - so I let her. I chatted with her, tried my very best to be social... tried to be friends.

It was evident, however, that it was all pity on her part; Julie's own attempt to validate herself as a nice, sweet person who was good at everything.

But I didn't need her friendship anymore, let alone her assistance. My time in this school as a loner had bittered me to the core, turned my heart to stone and ripped me of my need to belong, a desire to save the world with the magic of friendship. I had learnt to fly solo, to play the cruel game alone.

And now, Julie, you are a disposable piece in my game, just as I had been in yours.

It was time for a tea party - and chaos was getting an invitation.