Sharon Strong
Undeserved Ascendance
chapter 4
by
copier
· original author:
an188
The Havenridge High cafeteria buzzed like a hive of insignificant drones, but at the center table—the one everyone knew was off-limits unless invited—sat Sharon Strong. Sixteen years old, and already the undisputed goddess of the school. Her long, silky light-brown hair with its perfect dirty-blonde highlights cascaded in glossy waves past her shoulders, framing a face that could stop traffic. Fair skin dusted with the cutest freckles across her nose and cheeks, large sapphire-blue eyes lined with expert smoky shadow and lashes so long they looked fake (they weren’t), and full, glossy lips curled into that signature smirk that said I know I’m better than you.
She wore a tight white crop top that hugged her full, firm C-cup breasts and showed off the sparkling navel piercing nestled in her flat, toned stomach. Her high-waisted jeans clung to every curve, and her long, perfectly manicured nails tapped rhythmically on her phone—today painted a glossy hot-pink. Three dainty hoops and studs glittered in her right ear, two in her left. Sharon Strong didn’t just walk into a room; she owned it. Spoiled, sassy, dominant, and bossy to her core, she was the kind of girl who believed the universe had personally handed her the crown—and she wore it with zero shame.
Around her sat her court, the only people allowed in her inner circle.
Tammy, her ride-or-die bestie, lounged to her right—thin, spicy Latina firecracker with long straight brown hair, a flat chest, and a mouth that never stopped. Today she was in full Valley-girl mode, popping her gum and mixing English with casual Spanglish like it was her personal dialect.
Lily sat across from her, stunningly feminine and beautiful, long dark hair cascading like silk, delicate features glowing with perfect makeup. The Chinese honor-roll girl was sharp as a stiletto and twice as dangerous—her humor and wit could slice you open while she smiled sweetly.
And then there was Megan, on Sharon’s left. Slim, curvy, tanned skin, thick black-rimmed glasses, flat chest, and a rock-hard six-pack hidden under her fitted tank top. The ultimate gym rat who spent hours every day lifting weights, she was openly lesbian and so obviously, pathetically in love with Sharon that the other two girls had to bite their tongues not to laugh about it. Sharon, of course, remained blissfully unaware—or at least pretended to be.
The four of them picked at their salads and iced lattes, phones glowing on the table.
“Oh my gawd, look at Jake Thompson,” Tammy said, pointing with a fry. “Like, total babe rating: nine out of ten on the hotness scale, but his personality? Zero. Like, he’s so boring I’d rather watch paint dry in Spanish class, ¿sabes?”
Lily laughed, her voice light and melodic. “Jake’s face is a solid eight-point-five, but that body? Six at best. No definition, no abs, just… meh. Now, Dylan Rivera? Chef’s kiss. Pretty-boy androgynous vibes—long lashes, soft jaw, that delicate build. Sharon, you’d eat him alive.”
Sharon’s smirk widened. She loved when they talked like this. “Dylan’s a solid nine on my personal fuckability chart. Those pretty eyes, that slim waist… I’d have him on his knees in five minutes flat. But Tyler? Ew. Seven at best—cute face, but that gut? Hard pass. And don’t even get me started on the girls.” She rolled her eyes dramatically. “Emma Caldwell thinks she’s hot because she got new highlights? Please. She looks like a discount Barbie that got left in the sun too long. And Sarah Kim? Flat as a board and dresses like a nun. Tragic.”
Tammy cackled. “¡Ay, por favor! Sarah’s outfit today? Like, what is that, a potato sack? I’d rather die than be seen in that. Qué asco.”
They all burst out laughing. Sharon lifted her phone, flipped the camera, and pulled her three besties in close. “Smile, bitches. Time to remind the peasants who runs this school.”
The flash went off. Sharon’s smile was pure arrogance—head tilted, lips pursed, one hand on her hip even while seated. She typed furiously:
Just another day ruling the cafeteria with my unstoppable squad 💅 Who else woke up this flawless? Oh right… nobody. #QueenOfHavenridge #TooHotForThisSchool #BowDownPeasants #WeRunThis #SmugAndStunning
She hit post. Likes started pouring in instantly. Her ego purred.
A few minutes later she did it again—another selfie, this time with her tongue out and middle finger up at the camera while the girls posed behind her.
When the haters stare but can’t touch 🔥 Sorry not sorry, losers. Stay mad. #TooGorgeousForYou #HavenridgeHottest #LivingMyBestLife #JealousMuch?
Sharon set the phone down and sighed, suddenly bored with the boy-talk. “Okay, enough about these basic boys. I’ve been thinking…” She leaned forward, her blue eyes sparkling with sudden intensity. “I want a more muscular body. Like, actually toned. Not just flat—sculpted.”
She unlocked her phone again and shoved it toward them, scrolling through saved photos of fitness models in tiny bikinis: ripped abs, defined arms, perky asses, glistening skin under golden hour light. “Look at her. And her. And this one—bikini body goals. This is the new trend, girls. All the top influencers are going hard on the gym aesthetic. Imagine the attention I’d get. The likes. The thirst comments. The brand deals. I’d be unstoppable.”
Megan’s eyes lit up behind her thick glasses. This was her moment. She sat up straighter, her six-pack flexing subtly under her top. “Sharon… I could totally coach you,” she said, voice warm and eager. “I’m at the gym every single day anyway. We could train together after school—meal plans, workouts, the whole thing. I’d make sure you get exactly the body you want. It’d be… really fun. Just us.”
Sharon tilted her head, considering it. She had no idea Megan’s offer came from anything deeper than friendship. The other girls exchanged quick, knowing glances—Tammy mouthed oh my god silently—but Sharon just toyed with the idea out loud. “Hmm. You know what? That could work. You’re basically a pro, Meg. I mean, look at those abs. If anyone can turn me into a fitness goddess, it’s you.”
Megan blushed hard, trying to hide her excitement. “Y-yeah, totally. Whenever you want.”
Before anyone could respond, a nerdy boy with messy hair, glasses, and a backpack twice his size walked past their table, eyes glued to his phone. Sharon’s smirk turned wicked. Without warning, she stuck her foot out and hooked his ankle.
He went down hard—tray flying, spaghetti sauce splattering across the floor. The entire cafeteria went quiet for a second, then erupted in laughter.
Sharon threw her head back and cackled. “Oh my god, look at him! What a clumsy little loser. Did you really just eat shit right in front of us? Pathetic.”
Tammy was already filming on her phone. “¡Ay, qué idiota! Get up, nerd! Or are you too busy crying?”
Lily added with perfect timing, “Careful, darling, the floor might file a complaint for being touched by someone so… irrelevant.”
Megan joined in, giggling. “Nice trip. See you next fall.”
The boy scrambled up, face beet-red, tears already forming in his eyes. Sauce dripped from his shirt. He muttered something incoherent and bolted, backpack bouncing.
Sharon’s group howled with laughter, their egos swelling like balloons. Sharon flipped her hair. “God, that never gets old. Little people should really watch where they’re going when queens are present.”
She turned back to her phone, still buzzing from the high. “Anyway, back to the fitness thing. It sounds amazing, but ugh—hard work? Actual sweat? There better be an easy button somewhere, because I don’t do suffering.” She sighed dramatically. “It’s a shame there’s no shortcut to perfection.”
The bell for the end of lunch rang. Sharon stood up, all long legs and confidence. “Bathroom break, girls. I need to fix this lip gloss before class.”
They strutted out together, heads high, phones out. In the girls’ bathroom, they crowded the mirrors. Sharon touched up her already-perfect makeup—another layer of gloss, a quick fluff of her hair—while Tammy ranted in rapid Spanglish about some girl in third period who dared wear the same shoes as her yesterday. Lily delivered a hilarious takedown of the cheer squad’s latest routine. Megan hovered close to Sharon, offering to hold her bag, eyes soft every time Sharon glanced her way.
Sharon snapped one final selfie in the mirror—alone this time, pouting seductively, one hand on her hip, crop top riding up just enough to flash her navel piercing.
Mirror check: still undefeated 😌 Who else is serving this level of perfection before 2pm? No one. #FitnessGoddessInTraining #HavenridgeRoyalty #TooPrettyToSweat #WatchMeGlowUp #SorryNotSorry
She posted it with a satisfied hum.
“Alright, peasants,” Sharon announced, sliding her phone into her back pocket. “Time for class. Try not to embarrass me out there.”
The four of them linked arms—Sharon in the middle, of course—and sauntered down the hallway like they owned every tile, every locker, and every single person who dared look their way.
The queen of Havenridge High was just getting started.
How she become powerful?
She wore a tight white crop top that hugged her full, firm C-cup breasts and showed off the sparkling navel piercing nestled in her flat, toned stomach. Her high-waisted jeans clung to every curve, and her long, perfectly manicured nails tapped rhythmically on her phone—today painted a glossy hot-pink. Three dainty hoops and studs glittered in her right ear, two in her left. Sharon Strong didn’t just walk into a room; she owned it. Spoiled, sassy, dominant, and bossy to her core, she was the kind of girl who believed the universe had personally handed her the crown—and she wore it with zero shame.
Around her sat her court, the only people allowed in her inner circle.
Tammy, her ride-or-die bestie, lounged to her right—thin, spicy Latina firecracker with long straight brown hair, a flat chest, and a mouth that never stopped. Today she was in full Valley-girl mode, popping her gum and mixing English with casual Spanglish like it was her personal dialect.
Lily sat across from her, stunningly feminine and beautiful, long dark hair cascading like silk, delicate features glowing with perfect makeup. The Chinese honor-roll girl was sharp as a stiletto and twice as dangerous—her humor and wit could slice you open while she smiled sweetly.
And then there was Megan, on Sharon’s left. Slim, curvy, tanned skin, thick black-rimmed glasses, flat chest, and a rock-hard six-pack hidden under her fitted tank top. The ultimate gym rat who spent hours every day lifting weights, she was openly lesbian and so obviously, pathetically in love with Sharon that the other two girls had to bite their tongues not to laugh about it. Sharon, of course, remained blissfully unaware—or at least pretended to be.
The four of them picked at their salads and iced lattes, phones glowing on the table.
“Oh my gawd, look at Jake Thompson,” Tammy said, pointing with a fry. “Like, total babe rating: nine out of ten on the hotness scale, but his personality? Zero. Like, he’s so boring I’d rather watch paint dry in Spanish class, ¿sabes?”
Lily laughed, her voice light and melodic. “Jake’s face is a solid eight-point-five, but that body? Six at best. No definition, no abs, just… meh. Now, Dylan Rivera? Chef’s kiss. Pretty-boy androgynous vibes—long lashes, soft jaw, that delicate build. Sharon, you’d eat him alive.”
Sharon’s smirk widened. She loved when they talked like this. “Dylan’s a solid nine on my personal fuckability chart. Those pretty eyes, that slim waist… I’d have him on his knees in five minutes flat. But Tyler? Ew. Seven at best—cute face, but that gut? Hard pass. And don’t even get me started on the girls.” She rolled her eyes dramatically. “Emma Caldwell thinks she’s hot because she got new highlights? Please. She looks like a discount Barbie that got left in the sun too long. And Sarah Kim? Flat as a board and dresses like a nun. Tragic.”
Tammy cackled. “¡Ay, por favor! Sarah’s outfit today? Like, what is that, a potato sack? I’d rather die than be seen in that. Qué asco.”
They all burst out laughing. Sharon lifted her phone, flipped the camera, and pulled her three besties in close. “Smile, bitches. Time to remind the peasants who runs this school.”
The flash went off. Sharon’s smile was pure arrogance—head tilted, lips pursed, one hand on her hip even while seated. She typed furiously:
Just another day ruling the cafeteria with my unstoppable squad 💅 Who else woke up this flawless? Oh right… nobody. #QueenOfHavenridge #TooHotForThisSchool #BowDownPeasants #WeRunThis #SmugAndStunning
She hit post. Likes started pouring in instantly. Her ego purred.
A few minutes later she did it again—another selfie, this time with her tongue out and middle finger up at the camera while the girls posed behind her.
When the haters stare but can’t touch 🔥 Sorry not sorry, losers. Stay mad. #TooGorgeousForYou #HavenridgeHottest #LivingMyBestLife #JealousMuch?
Sharon set the phone down and sighed, suddenly bored with the boy-talk. “Okay, enough about these basic boys. I’ve been thinking…” She leaned forward, her blue eyes sparkling with sudden intensity. “I want a more muscular body. Like, actually toned. Not just flat—sculpted.”
She unlocked her phone again and shoved it toward them, scrolling through saved photos of fitness models in tiny bikinis: ripped abs, defined arms, perky asses, glistening skin under golden hour light. “Look at her. And her. And this one—bikini body goals. This is the new trend, girls. All the top influencers are going hard on the gym aesthetic. Imagine the attention I’d get. The likes. The thirst comments. The brand deals. I’d be unstoppable.”
Megan’s eyes lit up behind her thick glasses. This was her moment. She sat up straighter, her six-pack flexing subtly under her top. “Sharon… I could totally coach you,” she said, voice warm and eager. “I’m at the gym every single day anyway. We could train together after school—meal plans, workouts, the whole thing. I’d make sure you get exactly the body you want. It’d be… really fun. Just us.”
Sharon tilted her head, considering it. She had no idea Megan’s offer came from anything deeper than friendship. The other girls exchanged quick, knowing glances—Tammy mouthed oh my god silently—but Sharon just toyed with the idea out loud. “Hmm. You know what? That could work. You’re basically a pro, Meg. I mean, look at those abs. If anyone can turn me into a fitness goddess, it’s you.”
Megan blushed hard, trying to hide her excitement. “Y-yeah, totally. Whenever you want.”
Before anyone could respond, a nerdy boy with messy hair, glasses, and a backpack twice his size walked past their table, eyes glued to his phone. Sharon’s smirk turned wicked. Without warning, she stuck her foot out and hooked his ankle.
He went down hard—tray flying, spaghetti sauce splattering across the floor. The entire cafeteria went quiet for a second, then erupted in laughter.
Sharon threw her head back and cackled. “Oh my god, look at him! What a clumsy little loser. Did you really just eat shit right in front of us? Pathetic.”
Tammy was already filming on her phone. “¡Ay, qué idiota! Get up, nerd! Or are you too busy crying?”
Lily added with perfect timing, “Careful, darling, the floor might file a complaint for being touched by someone so… irrelevant.”
Megan joined in, giggling. “Nice trip. See you next fall.”
The boy scrambled up, face beet-red, tears already forming in his eyes. Sauce dripped from his shirt. He muttered something incoherent and bolted, backpack bouncing.
Sharon’s group howled with laughter, their egos swelling like balloons. Sharon flipped her hair. “God, that never gets old. Little people should really watch where they’re going when queens are present.”
She turned back to her phone, still buzzing from the high. “Anyway, back to the fitness thing. It sounds amazing, but ugh—hard work? Actual sweat? There better be an easy button somewhere, because I don’t do suffering.” She sighed dramatically. “It’s a shame there’s no shortcut to perfection.”
The bell for the end of lunch rang. Sharon stood up, all long legs and confidence. “Bathroom break, girls. I need to fix this lip gloss before class.”
They strutted out together, heads high, phones out. In the girls’ bathroom, they crowded the mirrors. Sharon touched up her already-perfect makeup—another layer of gloss, a quick fluff of her hair—while Tammy ranted in rapid Spanglish about some girl in third period who dared wear the same shoes as her yesterday. Lily delivered a hilarious takedown of the cheer squad’s latest routine. Megan hovered close to Sharon, offering to hold her bag, eyes soft every time Sharon glanced her way.
Sharon snapped one final selfie in the mirror—alone this time, pouting seductively, one hand on her hip, crop top riding up just enough to flash her navel piercing.
Mirror check: still undefeated 😌 Who else is serving this level of perfection before 2pm? No one. #FitnessGoddessInTraining #HavenridgeRoyalty #TooPrettyToSweat #WatchMeGlowUp #SorryNotSorry
She posted it with a satisfied hum.
“Alright, peasants,” Sharon announced, sliding her phone into her back pocket. “Time for class. Try not to embarrass me out there.”
The four of them linked arms—Sharon in the middle, of course—and sauntered down the hallway like they owned every tile, every locker, and every single person who dared look their way.
The queen of Havenridge High was just getting started.
How she become powerful?
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·
June 13
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