A Stupid Girl's Book Of Dreams

Charisma (Rizz)

I've always had a love-hate relationship with school.

I love learning new things, the satisfaction of getting something right, and having something I'm good at and enjoy. I relish any opportunity away from home that I can get, so I try to keep myself busy. Since I took the time yesterday to air up the tires in my truck, today I could drive to school instead of walking, like yesterday. This was insanely lucky for me, today being much colder than yesterday, and the air was humid and had that smell the air tends to get when there's a big storm on the way. It would be a perfect morning, if only it weren't so chilly, the bipolar September weather we tend to get in western Kentucky.

The only thing I hate about school is people. The people there who don't make me want to crawl into a hole and die tend to be a rather small minority, and honestly, it's primarily one or two teachers and a friend or two.

I have just two friends at school, and even then, we aren't that close, just lunchroom friends with classroom conversations. We aren't allowed to be more than mere friends, and if they ever found out some of my biggest secrets, there's a very great chance of me getting murdered. Scary. Or they would be killed first, and I couldn't imagine doing that to Charlie and Louise.

Bullies are still just an annoyance, nothing I'm not already used to, nothing I can't handle. It's not like it's the worst thing I have to put up with daily anyway. Other than all of that, bullies, two friends, and an annoying drunkard of a father, I'm relatively normal, and nobody suspects a thing. Blend in, never stick out. Makeup and common sense hide a good plenty anyway.

I walk into the building, beelining straight for my locker. By now I'm used to figuring out the perfect path to avoid bumping into the people I don't want to see. Unfortunately, I can't always win.

I walk past the biggest idiot I've ever seen, who sticks his leg out just low enough where I don't see it. My ankle catches on his, and the next thing I know my face is speeding towards the ground before my nose crashes into the tile, and all the books for my next class scatter everywhere. I scramble to sit up, and everyone around me is either cracking up or holding their mouths trying not to laugh, mostly failing miserably. My face turns red with embarrassment, and I see another pale, manicured hand reaching towards me, my history book held in the other.

I look up to see a soft smile and a face of freckles covered in thick wavy dark hair, and I grimace back at her. She gives a dirty look to anyone who was laughing before, and the meanest to Gary, the kid who tripped me, as he scrambles away mumbling, "A bunch of lesbian freaks," under his breath. "Fuck you, Gary!" She screams back at him, extending her hands in the air and her middle fingers pointed out. I take her hand and allow her to help me to my feet.

"Thanks, Louise," I give her a tight-lipped smile and a thumbs up.

"Hey, anytime. Don't put up with that little bitch, he's just fucking mad he can't pull a girl as pretty as you. Or daddy didn't buy him a yacht for his birthday," she tells me.

"I think it's the second one," I laugh, taking my history book from her and heading to class. We walked together for a little while, eventually parting ways as I had U.S. History first period and she had to suffer through pre-calc, having taken Algebra II as a sophomore. As usual, I bid her goodbye, walking into what would be a rather boring and uneventful first period. I take my seat towards the front where the board is easily visible and I can actively pay attention, and nobody bothers me much. Unfortunately, I wouldn't get to the class that makes the school day worth going to until later, but it's usually livable until 4th period, I can always survive until Home Ec.

The bell rings after a boring yet interesting period of learning about the American Revolution, and I bolt out, having to walk pretty far to get to art. On my way down, for some inexplicable reason, I'm stopped, to my shock, by none other than Max Nelson.