Type 1

Chapter 5

Type 1

Diabetes. It is a pain in the...Well everywhere.

Monday morning has arrived, and you know what that means. School. I try to avoid as many people as possible because I can't stand them all; they're all annoying in their own way.

One student will ask you for your test score just to make sure it is lower than theirs.

There is always that one student who tries to attract the attention of others.

But what I find most fascinating is when two girls fight. They're hilarious to watch because it all starts with talk and then it's a race to see who can punch first.

When it comes to boys, however, things get a little messy. As a result, I dislike watching boys fight.

I awoke this morning in a state of disarray. My sugar level was low, so I had to treat it, and then it spiked, so I had to use insulin to bring it back down. But, for the time being, everything is fine.

I load my belongings into my backpack, which I had already organized the night before. If I don't pack my belongings the night before, I get stressed and my day is ruined.

Some people believe that if their coffee isn't good, their day will be ruined.

I grab my bag and car keys and turn around to face my bedroom door. I approached the door and noticed it was open, with Hailey on the other side smiling cheerfully at me. I looked down and sniffed my way out of the awkwardness. We haven't spoken much since that day, so it appears awkward between us.

" Guess what," she said, sounding overjoyed today.

I rubbed my tired eyes and avoided making eye contact with her. " I'm actually not diabetic?"

She remained silent and cleared her throat, oblivious to the fact that it was all a joke. " No...." She mumbled it quietly. "He texted me this morning." She said this while laughing.

I look up and notice she's wearing skinny tight jeans with a white singlet tucked in. displaying her curvy figure, large breasts, and large thighs

I took a look down at what I was wearing. Grey tracksuit pants, an oversized black hoodie, and white sneakers complete the look. My body type and hers are not the same. I don't have a figure at all; I'm flat on every inch of my body. Flat breasts, flat ass, flat everything.

However, I won't ever let anything stop me from loving for who I am.

Diabetes, cough, cough.

I returned my gaze to her and smiled weakly."I'm sorry, who texted you?" I asked, not knowing who she was referring to, or perhaps I simply don't care.

She looks at me with a dull expression and rolls her eyes. "Dylan. My soon to be boyfriend "She elaborated. I squinted and cringed at what she said.

Oh god, please.

Dylan being her boyfriend and possibly having to seen him majority of the time.

I would leave. Yes, I live in my car and can't see anyone. That does sound like a good plan.

" Can I borrow one of your jackets?" She asked out of the blue. I shifted back and looked up at her, baffled.

Excuse me, what now?

I chuckle at her and shake my index finger." You always take my things, never return them, and always claim them to be yours"I refused to lend her any of my stuff, I explained.

She sighs deeply and shakes her head."I'm not going to deal with you today," she said angrily, walking over to my closet and pulling out a jacket. She chooses one and puts it on as she walks out.