Age: 17
Gender: Female
Personality/History: Avery is your typical rich, spoiled, high-school upper-class bitch. Avery doesn't have complexes... it's not like she needs to make others feel bad, just to appease her own inner insecurities, or whatever else people say girls like her do. Actually, she just likes being a bitch. She's hot, she's smart, she's rich and she's popular... what's not to like about her life? Sure, her dad travels a lot due to his job as the CEO of an international billion-dollar enterprise, but she doesn't mind. He's usually home on weekends, and it keeps her moneyflow going. Besides, her mom's always there. Avery is used to being given her way, and nothing changed once she started high school. Unlike most others, Avery loves high school; she has her elite clique, she's head of the cheerleading-squad, and she's a straight A student... c'mon now, who wouldn't enjoy high school just a little in that position?
Post:
"C'mon Avery! We don't wanna be late for our spa-appointment, do we?" Rebecca called out, as Avery grabbed her bag and hurried out the open maindoor, pushing it shut behind her, "I'm coming! Geez, Becca..." She yelled back at the girl, her heels clicking on the big, white marble driveway in front of her house, as she made her way to the car Becca was driving and got into the passengerseat. "Where's Brooke and Trish?" She asked, wondering about the other half of her elite group, "weren't they supposed to come too?" she cocked her head to the side a little, her perfectly donned hair swaying softly. Becca was a beautiful redhead with blue eyes, who made guys go wild, but never let them have it. Therefore, she was still a virgin. She claimed to be saving herself for marriage, something Avery thought was a load of bullshit. She just hadn't met a guy who made her body burn yet. Brooke was the blonde bad-girl all the guys wanted, completely opposite of Becca; though she wasn't cheap, she did sleep around. Trish was more like Avery... she had a little more... class. Sophistication, if you will. If a guy wanted her goods, he had to woo her, sweep her off her feet. She was Latina, with black hair, brown eyes, a rocking body, and tanned skin. Yeah, they were a mixed group, but the cheerleading squad didn't discriminate by haircolor or ethnicity... well, unless you were black. Black girls were a no-go, and they smelled bad too. No, the squad discriminated by class, money and body. That was the world she was in charge of as captain, and she loved it.
"Oh, yeah... but we'll pick 'em up on the way," Becca said, pulling out of the driveway in her bright-red convertible BMW 135i. She smiled, put on her Armani sunglasses and sat back. "Sounds like a plan," she answered, crossing her legs as she enjoyed the feeling of cool wind on her face. She couldn't wait for school to start back up. Though she'd been to Hawaii, Spain, Athens, and Australia, she had been bored out of her mind for the last couple of weeks. And her cheerleaders needed her. She was going to whip those girls back into shape even if it killed her. They'd probably gained weight over the summer, lazy bitches. She had a whole year's worth of combinations, workouts and routines planned our for them already.
"So, school starts next week, Ave... then we have cheerleading try-outs," Becca noted. The thought made Avery smile. She loved the power of try-outs. She loved sending all those freshmans and sophomores back out the doors, crying because they weren't good enough. Hey, no need to humor the poor things. If they were crap, she'd tell them immediately. If you're not good enough, or don't have the proper image, don't try out. It was simple, really. She didn't know why the losers kept trying. "Yes... we do, don't we?" Avery said, wicked smile on her glossed lips. This year was going to be her best yet. She just knew it.