Double sized

MIDDLE LAND HIGH

Middle land high
#Pov

Charles Gordy once said that a smile was one very inexpensive way to change your looks.

So I stood in front of the mirror, feet flattened and chest sprouting out, trying out one of my most infamous smiles. My cheeks bubbled up and down, then up again. My smile wasn't the cutest. I knew that from tenth grade, when a fifth grader very politely but brazenly whispered to me that I looked much better without a smile, so I resorted to walking with a frown. Which I believed made me look much better.

But today was different. Today was the first day of twelfth grade, and I wanted to make a good impression. This year I wanted to stand up to the queen of Middle land, Eca Miller, and her cronies.
This year, I wanted to smile more.

Currently, I stared at the girl in the mirror. She glared back at me. Right back at me. Her light brown eyes piercing deep through my soul and shattering me completely.

Frustrated, I turned from the mirror and pulled off my always smile hoodie, adding to the sea of clothes that lay already at my feet. I had tried on at least a dozen outfits, but none of them seemed to fit me right. They were either too tight, too loose, too bright, or too dull. I wanted to look good, but not too good. I wanted to blend in, but not too much. I wanted to be myself, but not too much.

I'm a church girl. Born and bred in a cathedral. So my looks shouldn't bother me much. But they did.

I had to look good. Every sane girl at Middle land knew that. No one wanted to be bullied by the queen, Eca Miller. Everyone wanted to get on her good books. But we just didn't get along.

Middle land had its own rules. And every girl abided by them. It was a rule on its own.

One, no girl was to be caught messy. And I was always messy. My hair was a tangled mess of curls that refused to be tamed by any brush or comb. My clothes were always wrinkled and stained, no matter how many times I ironed or washed them. My shoes were always scuffed and worn, no matter how much I polished or replaced them.

Two, your skirt must be nothing less than an inch above your knee. My skirt was an inch above my feet. I liked to cover up, not to show off. I didn't want to attract unwanted attention, especially from the boys. I didn't want to be seen as a flirt, a tease, or a slut. I wanted to be seen as a decent, respectable, modest girl.

Three, no one opposed the queen. And I was always at loggerheads with her. Eca Miller was the most popular, most beautiful, most influential girl in the school. She had everything: money, fame, power, and Mario. She ruled the school with an iron fist, and everyone obeyed her. Everyone, except me.

My parallel life with Eca Miller began right from seventh grade, when we were paired up for an art project. And she ruined everything with her "Girl looking good, never caught messy" attitude. She wanted to paint a portrait of herself, while I wanted to paint a landscape of the city. She wanted to use bright colors, while I wanted to use dark shades. She wanted to finish the project in one day, while I wanted to take my time and do it well.

We ended up arguing for hours, and neither of us would compromise. She called me a boring, ugly, nerd, and I called her a vain, spoiled, brat. We ended up getting an F. Then she blamed everything on me. And I went bonkers.

It's not like I cared though. I was quite famous for my bad grades. But why did I have to take the blame?

Eca is pretty. No doubt. She is everything I am not. She has long, blonde, silky hair that falls perfectly over her shoulders. She has blue, sparkling eyes that shine like diamonds. She has a slim, curvy, flawless body that fits into any outfit. She has a dazzling, charming, irresistible smile that melts any heart.

She even has the attention of the school's hottest boy, and biggest bully, Mario Miller. Who I low-key have a crush on. But it's not like I'm jealous.

Mario is handsome. No doubt. He is everything I want. He has short, black, spiky hair that gives him a rebellious look. He has green, piercing eyes that see through any lie. He has a muscular, athletic, strong body that excels in any sport. He has a confident, cocky, charismatic smile that commands any room.

He is also Eca's ex-boyfriend. And he hates me.

Life at my other school was fun.

There were no mean girls and bullies around. And no one had to stress about how they looked. There were no cute boys and no silly rules. But there was no drama.

Every night, my friends and I would walk around the city, watching the city we grew up in spring to life under the moon. We would go to the park, the mall, the cinema, the arcade, or anywhere we felt like. We would talk, laugh, joke, sing, dance, or do anything we wanted. We would be free, happy, alive.

Those days were fun. But they were over. My dad had me uprooted down to Middle land when he found out I was having little problems catching up. He said I needed special care. What he didn't know was I needed a school for special aid. Not an expensive school.

Although it's not like there was anything special about Middle land. Mean girls and bullies were the order of the day. The average ones couldn't wait for the fun from bullying. And the nerds like us were always terrified.

I grew up in Wingston, where June was always wet. So I had a lot of cool hoodies, but today nothing I owned seemed good enough.

"Gamma, down here this moment!" My mother screamed from the living room. I raked one hand through my unruly curls, frustrated.

I took one last look at my reflection in the mirror, then sauntered out of my room. My school bag hung across one plump shoulder.

"Welcome to twelfth grade," the walls seemed to be screaming.

**
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