I've never been perfect. I'm a 14-year-old who's barely 5"1 and with thick brown hair in a goofy-looking wolf cut. Yet, here I am, sitting at a lunch table with some Popular dumb blondes. Three of them, to be exact. Lana Starbrook, Stacy Miller, and Blanca Davis. I Don't even remember how I got into this friend group. All three of them suddenly decided to start talking to me in kindergarten, and that's how it all began. They've been stuck to me like glue ever since. Suddenly, the table gets crowded like a beehive, and a bunch of girls start firing the typical and annoying questions and compliments.
"OMG, Hey Stacy! I LOVE the new Shade of lip gloss you're wearing!"
"Lana! Cute top!"
"Blanca, did you get highlights? It literally looks so good on you!"
Yup. This is the crap I have to hear every day.
"I just got this new shade straight from Nordstrom," Stacy blurts. "It cost like, a hundred twenty bucks or something."
"Yeah, and this top is from Versace! It's, like, so expensive and stuff." Lana answers.
"My hair, oh yeah, It's actually all natural! It's sooo pretty, right?" Lana flips her hair as if she didn't use temporary hair highlight spray two weeks ago.
I was already getting extremely overstimulated, so I just pushed my way out of the crowd and headed to the bathroom. As I looked in the mirror, I sighed. Why couldn't I stop being "friends" with them? "Why couldn't I get the same compliments?" As I continued to ask myself these questions, the bell rang. I sighed again. I shuffled to my locker to grab my math books and sat in class, half-asleep.
YOU ARE READING
Headache
Teen FictionLife can be a Headache sometimes. Just ask Sadie Sanchez, an eighth-grade outcast stuck inside a friend group of Debs. But when the school Bully starts to notice her, will she like him back?
