Okay, I know I've called myself a writer earlier on this forum, and here I am to prove it. This is the first chapter of 3, as I don't plan on writing a novel just yet; just short stories. However, I'm usually a medieval or medieval fantasy writer, so I'm new to writing lesbian stories, in fact, the stuff you're about to read is my first attempt at the genre. I certainly hope you like it, at least. As always; constructive criticism is highly appreciated.
This is an unrevised draft, so bear with me. Hehe.
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Chapter 1 - Awakening

The alarm clocked yelled out to her in a cacophony of sound when the timer reached 07:30. A moment later the 18-year-old girl recognized the song; Black Metal by Cradle of Filth. Of course! This was her iPod alarm. How irritating that she’d left the small device on shuffle when she set the alarm. And not just for her, either, as the yell of the girl’s mother came from another room, “Angela, turn that noise down.”

With a soft grunt, Angela rolled over to bed’s side where her alarm sat waiting to relieved from it’s duty. A semi-hard pound on the top of the cubic-form iPod station was enough to make it shut it. “And get ready for school!” Her mother added the moment the cacophony had ceased.

Another soft grunt came from the girl’s slightly parted lips when she forced herself to sit up and swing her legs out from under the warm covers. She bent forwards slightly, her elbow on her leg, and her finger lightly pressed to her forehead. What a headache! A few moments passed in complete silence, and then Angela moved to a stand and to her closet.

After about twenty minutes, she had dressed, brushed her teeth, made her hair and donned light make-up around her eyes. Now, she was taking a final look into the mirror, to check for flaws in her look. She was just your average girl, with brown curly hair that framed her freckled face, and the ends came to rest on her mid-back, whereas there were also strands of hair coming to rest on her averagely sized chest. She didn’t seem very tall, short even, and her stature was small, close to frail. Even though she looked average, she seemed to have an air of self-confidence. And right now, she was satisfied, which she denoted with a soft nod in the mirror’s direction, before she would want out of the bathroom, towards the kitchen.

“You’re going to be late, Angela.” Her mother chided coldly, as if she had known all along. “No I’m not. ‘A girl like me is never late, she arrives exactly when she wants to’,” she quoted Gandalf, with her own personal twist to it, and gave soft smile towards her mother. “Well, just hurry,” Brenda (her mother) replied irritated. Angela went on about her business calmly, eating her breakfast and making lunch to take with her. Suddenly, she frowned heavily and gave a short ‘Ouch!’ as her hand flew up to her head, to initiate futile combat against her growing headache. It reminded her a bit of Harry Potter’s constant battling against his painful scar. But she wasn’t concerned too much yet; it wasn’t like Lord Voldemort would come out of hiding in this world any time soon. In any case, she wouldn’t be at school for long if this headache continued to expand and take over her capacity to think.

Fifteen minutes later, she steered her bicycle onto the schoolyard, and into the bicycle rack. She took the lock from it’s place and bended it around the front wheel and through the hoop of the rack, before turning the key and getting the key out. Sliding the key into her jean’s pocket, she moved towards the door of the relatively small high school. “Angie! Come over here!” Came the shout over the schoolyard, which made Angela turn her head. Immediately, the corners of her lips curled up in a wide smile and she complied. When she was near the group of four, she nodded and smiled at each in turn, “Hi people.. how was your week-end?” she inquired calmly. They didn’t answer, and instead, they all seemed to be looking over her shoulders, at a moving object behind her.

Quite surprised, she turned around and tried to find what her friends were looking at. And then she found the object of their interest, or rather; the person of their interest. A tall girl with raven black, messy hair walked onto the schoolyard. She wore a loose-fitting black t-shirt that concealed the fact that she nearly didn’t have any breasts, blue jeans and black shoes. Her hands were in her pockets and on her left shoulder was her backpack. Her whole demeanor radiated self-confidence, bordering arrogance.

Angela’s eyes went wide and inside of her chest, a funny feeling rose slowly, growing more evident and powerful each step the girl took closer to her. And the young woman stared unscrupulously, “Wow .. Who’s she?” She managed to ask her friends. A weird, almost alien feeling came over her as one of them answered, “New girl.” And the new girl walked into the school without even looking at the group.