The Girl Who Burned

Prologue.

Whenever I tell this story I tell people her and I absolutely ended in flames. Don't be fooled, we both played a part in this story. Truthfully it's up to you to decide who the bad guy is...

AUGUST 9TH 2019

It's hot. Humid. Back in Atlanta, it's freezing by seven in the morning. But this wasn't Atlanta, this was the party capital of the world. It's probably best to expect the unexpected in Vegas. I wrap my hands around my stomach, it's hot but this is a high school so, of course, I'm the only one here without a jacket on. To make things worse...my first period is algebra. Giving students math lectures at seven in the morning just confirmed exactly what we all thought to be true. Schools really don't give a damn about their students. 

My pace picks up a bit as I notice the time to be in class is nearing. My two braids hit my back as I do so. The class was talkative, each person in here already had a set of friends. Even your typical quiet kids had someone to talk to, then there was me. This was a huge change for me. I take the empty seat in the back and let my backpack down by my legs. I tugged down at the hem of my shirt of this stupid uniform. 

Back in Atlanta, I had spent most of my years being "popular". I had forgotten how...unforgiving the west coast could be. But this wasn't a bad thing. Me and Popularity weren't ever friends. Being popular was never like the movies. Everyone knew everything going on in your life, always watching, always judging, and always spreading rumors. At the age of ten, I had already been slut-shamed for things I hadn't done. I close my eyes and take in the somewhat innocent chatter of my peers, the conversations varied really. You had people talking about their recent travels, to a girl talking about some "smell" in her backpack. It really didn't take a genius to understand what smell she was speaking about. I opened my eyes to look in her direction. 

My breath hitched. 

She's so pretty. Long brown hair cascading down her back and pretty pink plump lips. She wore glasses, I could tell they were broken by the way she kept pushing them up. 

It's a shame. A pretty face ruined by an obnoxious personality. If I had a face like that I don't what I'd do. Guys probably swarm over her, I bet she loves that attention with a personality like that. The girl's brown hair flipped as she looked over at me. I had been caught staring, but I didn't look away. I had no shame, and neither did she as she stared at me. 

This was the very beginning to our near end.