Now you understand that she was truly ugly, not that she just she thought she was ugly (she could care less), I will move on to other issues of important address.
Tamara had no taste. On top of being a hideous freak of nature, she had no taste. No, she could smell the roses and taste mouthwatering fettuccine Alfredo. She just had no taste in fashion. Zero, zilch, nada. I swear that she and the senior citizens shopped in the same department of Walmart.
She wore clunky trainers, the kinds with the thick broad Velcro straps so seniors could take them on and off easily. She wore elastic wasteband pants and owned nothing remotely resembling jeans. Her baggy oversized retro t-shirts, were cool I admit but, swallowed up her small yet sturdy torso. She was tall and lanky with long legs that other girls would kill to have, but she hid them behind ill-fitting Bermuda shorts that looked like they were meant for middle-aged women.
Who was this was this strange girl and why did she do what she did?
Well, that's for me to know and for you to come find out.
YOU ARE READING
Pretty-UglyGal
Teen FictionLet me introduce you to the most spontaneous, random, beautiful, crazy, ugliest girl I know, Tamara. She doesn't care what you think of her because she is Tamara. "Just try..." she whispered
