The Way She Sees Me

January

Bia's Aesthetic (What I was imagining her character to be):

Paula's Aesthetic:

Jack's aesthetic:

Bia's POV:

I woke up to the excruciating sound of my alarm. I press snooze a couple of times before officially waking up. As I get up, I proceeded to lay my heavy head down on my laptop as I fell asleep watching Anime last night. I quietly yawn, pull on a maroon sweatshirt over my outfit, and walk downstairs to get my breakfast.
        I pour myself a bowl of Lucky Charms, and stuff my phone into my bag as I continue eating my almost soggy cereal. Once it says 7:25, I finally get outside of my dim apartment and wait patiently for the bus to come pick me up at the bus stop at the far end of the street. My mom was still fast asleep from working late last night, so I wasn't going to bother her on driving me to school. Once I get into the school, I feel my boyfriend Jack swiftly pull me into the janitors closet. While closing the door, he pins me down and I feel my back touching the cold wall.
"Jack, it's too early" I whine.
"Hush," he replies combing my hair through his large fingers as he attempts to delicately kiss me. I push him off and scold him.
"Jack it's too early!" I repeat. He moves his hand up my shirt. I shiver from the touch of his cold skin and slightly press my lips onto his. I see Paula my ex best friend, walking down the hallway with her head in her phone.
"I wonder how Paula is doing without me," I say to myself. As we break our kiss, the bell rings. I take a sigh of relief.
"See you third period?" asks Jack.
"Yep," I reply. Students walk past us, and I see Jack smirking. I nudge him with my elbow and he winces. I roll my eyes.

First Period
For home room, I have AP History with Mr.Luis. Paula is in my home room, but I was too scared to talk to her right after her father died. I know it was a shitty friend thing to do especially after someone you loved has passed, but she rejected me so many times. After her father died, she refused talk to anyone, nor give them the time of day. I tried talking to her but she never would talk to me back. I gave up on trying to be nice to her and console her and she just ignored me.

I always dreamt of what me and Paula would be like if we never separated from being such close friends. She had long, wavy, beach curls. Which were in the shade coffee brown. She had these fluorescent green eyes. I catch glimpses of her walking to her desk. I feel my heart race.
"What is wrong with you Bia?" I say to myself. I feel my cheeks burning up and I am praying that Paula doesn't see that I am acting totally weird. I squeeze my eyelids shut. The bell then rings again to start the class period.

"Okay class, can everyone open up their Chrome-books to the latest Google Classroom assignment I posted please," Mr. Luis lectures.

Everyone takes out their chrome books, and refreshes their page to see if Mr. Luis' assignment was posted yet. All period, Paula was barely paying attention to anything. I know because when she is focused, her eyebrows scrunch up and she usually takes notes with her green pen, not her black pen. She doodles with her purple pen, and sends notes with her red pen. But today, she was using her black pen. She was writing on her arm instead of her notebook. She does that when she gets really stressed. We were best friends since practically birth, so I know everything about Paula.