Author's note: Critique welcome!
The Rules of Being PlasticIt was a long day at North Shore. Everything was so different! My favorite classes were English and U.S. History. Who knew that humans had their own stories to tell?
"Mom! Where's Pegasus?" Dad gave me my beloved winged horse when I was five - as soon as I was old enough to feel lonely.
"I thought he was sleeping in the broom cupboard! Check the cauldrons, maybe he's playing there again."
Sure enough, there he was, splashing in a fresh brew of Liquid Lucks. "Come here, silly horsey."
I had two new emails! I know, it’s pathetic, but this got me unusually enthusiastic. One is a forward about a sale at Flourish and Blotts. I skipped that one. The second is from Regina. 'The Rules of Being Plastic'.
I stared at the screen in astonishment after reading the title. Does this mean I’m officially plastic now? I did a little happy dance in my seat. Pegasus trotted around merrily, picking up on my euphoric vibe.
Inspired, I meticulously read each rule. Trust me on this; rules were not something the Plastics were short of. A majority of these rules seem utterly ridiculous, and they all had to do with fashion and outer appearance. I still don’t understand how being pretty makes the Plastics more popular than everyone else. After all, beauty is just one of many qualities, right?
'You can only wear a ponytail once a week.'
I don't understand where they came up with this rule, but whatever.
'On Wednesday, we wear pink.'
I'll have to ask Mom if she still has that cerise cardigan I wore to the Yule Ball.
To fit in with Regina George and the Plastics, I would do absolutely anything.