Jelly Cooper: Alien

My name is Jelly Cooper and I am not your friend.

I have two friends in this world, just two. Frankly speaking, they’re the only people who can stomach to be near me, so vile my temper, so scathing my wit and so cutting my tongue.

But that’s OK by me, I kind of like it that way. I mean, who with an ounce of dignity would want to associate themselves with pathetic, airhead, self-obsessed, pompom-waving idiots?

No one, you’d think. Not a single soul. Not a one.

You’d be wrong.

Nearly every idiot in this school wants to be loved by the popular squad. It’s a shame that they wilfully don’t see the truth (that they aren’t really cheerleaders but jackals in heels), but I guess that’s about right for the standard around here. Morons.

So far, I am one of the few seers that can see this blindingly obvious fact.

Hard to believe, but there it is: a stone cold truth, glittering like the tip of a diamond working its way out of its charcoal womb, begging to be unearthed.

Unfortunately, until I reach the ripe old age of sixteen (or thereabouts), I’m bound by law (and my parents) to attend this shambolic excuse for an educational establishment. Naturally I spend my days fighting against the monstrous, soul-crushing machine of oppression that is ‘School’ and, well…hanging out with my friends.

I don’t have time for goody-two-shoes, I positively hate the ‘in-crowd’ and cheerleaders make me sick.

So here I am. Not popular, not powerful, just really, really…different.

My name, like I said, is Jelly Cooper. I’m fourteen years old. This is my story.

If you find it’s not to your taste, then don’t worry, I couldn’t care less.

Remember, I am not your friend.