How Does a Daffodil Survive in Winter?

ix | All it Took was a Little Bit of Ketchup

On Monday, I stared blankly at my clothes. The chances are, I will be on the receiving end of attention many times at school so I couldn't exactly show up looking like an unclean potato. I would have to look like a clean potato. Ideally, not a potato at all except that was near impossible. You are what you eat and unfortunately, I have had too many french fries.

I held up two nearly identical looking sweatshirts that have snarky words written on them and studied them before throwing them both on my bed in frustration.

My phone vibrated on my bed. All weekend long I've been getting notifications, I didn't even bother looking at them since I already knew what they were going to be about. I quickly put my phone on silent, not wanting to hear its annoying sounds anymore.

Saturday was surreal. People were finally looking at me in a manner that wasn't hostile. Some even looked at me with admiration. Not to mention the satisfaction of causing Lacie's mental breakdown. It all felt like a drug and it was a drug that I must try ever so hard to not be addicted to.

After the high that was Saturday, I was plunged into reality when the prospect of school came around. It made me realise the state I was in. Saturday was never meant to be a one-time thing, Lacie could still recover from it so I had to keep up the façade, this lie. I've never been a good liar nor do I particularly enjoy lying so I was worried that it would all crumble the minute I stepped foot in the school. It wasn't like I had a plan B if this fails; I went all in with this, leaving me no room to back down.

Something I also realised along the way was that this thing wasn't just tearing Lacie down; it was lifting me up. Though boosting your popularity through dating someone with a social status higher than you is unideal and simply bad, it is a quick-fix to your popularity problem and popularity is the one thing that teens live for after all, how ever stupid that may sound. It's still revenge I'm after, but a little boost in my popularity won't hurt, considering how much I lacked of it before.

My train of thought was lost by an incredibly loud hollering that only Julie could achieve. I quickly ran downstairs to greet her.

"You're still in your pyjamas!" she exclaimed when she saw me.

"No, it's my runway ready chic ensemble," I retorted sarcastically.

"The world of fashion may allow literal trash on the runway but those pjs are illegal."

"There's no way that photo was real. I mean, if trash was fashionable then I would be on the cover of Vogue."

"You're not trash. Remember self-love is very important."

"I'll love myself when I find a reason to."

"Well, you're just you," Julie sighed. "Now hurry up, I need to get you dressed."

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, mother."

We rushed up to my room and Julie got to work. In less than five minutes she had picked out an outfit and insisted that I wore it.

I looked down at the skirt she had somehow found in my closet. "I'm not wearing a skirt in winter," I complained. "I'm not wearing a skirt, ever."

"You sound like my sister during her tom-boy phase."

"Okay fine, you might find me in a skirt someday but not now. Not when it's so cold that even people on nude beaches are wearing five layers of clothes."

"You're so dramatic," Julie huffed. "But fine, I'll find something else."

"Thank you," I hummed, burying myself under my sheets. "I'm going to sleep but wake me up when you're done."