Unlucky Me

Chapter 1

Hello!

Quick authors note: This is my first time writing specifically on wattpad and I hope you enjoy the story. I tried to make it about what teenagers have to face daily, to show what many people have to deal with in high school.

None of this content is aimed at anyone or any race, it is just to show insecurities. Also, a heads up! AP classes in the United States are college courses.

Please enjoy.

. . .

I stared at my phone, nervously watching the time. Ten p.m. on the dot, just like we'd agreed. My best friend Eunji and I hadn't had a long conversation in ages-mostly because middle school had swept us into different towns, different schools, different lives. Somehow, though, it always felt like no time had passed whenever we reconnected. She was the only person I could share my deepest fears with, even if we barely saw each other anymore.

"Hey, Lily!" Eunji's voice was so full of energy it startled me, like she was already mid-story before I'd even said a word. "How's school been?"

I took a deep breath, unsure where to begin. Junior year had been hitting hard. "Honestly? It's horrible. I've been struggling so much. I barely got a 70 on the last Calc BC test, and my AP Lang grade's barely an 88." I cringed just saying it out loud, feeling the weight of those numbers.

"Whoa," Eunji said, sounding genuinely shocked. "Our hardest class usually has mid-B averages! No one would drop below that."

"Yeah, it's different at my school. It's like everyone's some kind of genius," I replied, laughing but feeling a little sting of envy. "I'm literally the lowest of the highest."

Eunji laughed, too, but in a soft, understanding way. "And AP Physics has been... okay," she added, a bit hesitantly. "My teacher's leaving next year, so he's been pretty chill with grades. Even gave us bonus points for stuff like putting computers back in the charging carts."

I groaned. "Lucky you! Everyone here practically hates our AP Physics teacher. She's so strict with labs-I've seen people get 2s and 3s out of 12, even the smartest kids in class!"

"That's... wild," Eunji said, as if it was some unfathomable reality.

And then we started talking about the SATs, which made my stomach drop all over again. I'd managed a 1400-not bad, but not great by my school's standards. Eunji, of course, had taken it twice and was on her way to a super score of 1470. "I just really want to get into Riverton," she said dreamily, mentioning her Ivy League dream college nearby. I muttered some kind of congratulations, feeling tiny.

But it was when she began talking about her sports that I started to sink deeper into my seat. Eunji had always been like a character from a K-drama, the kind of person who seemed to float elegantly from one activity to another. She was a star swimmer and also did ice skating, making time for two demanding sports. Meanwhile, I'd been doing swim team for years, but only once a week now, ever since my parents made me cut back. They thought I'd be too distracted from academics.

In the background, Eunji's laugh was still there, sweet and airy, like she was living some graceful life I couldn't even imagine. She went on to tell me about a guy who wouldn't stop asking her out on dates, and I could only imagine how she must look to him: always so pretty, with her straight, glossy black hair framing her face like she'd just stepped out of a beauty ad.

I glanced at my own reflection on my phone screen, sighing at what I saw. My hair was the opposite of Eunji's-brown and curly, all over the place no matter how hard I tried to tame it. Brown hair was pretty much considered "unhealthy" by Indian standards, and my parents always reminded me of how much better dark black hair looked. My skin was covered in small pimples, especially around my forehead, and thick glasses-thanks to my astigmatism-covered half my face. I was nothing like Eunji's idea of "elegant."

And her makeup skills! She had all these fancy Korean beauty products that made her skin glow and blush like a doll. Meanwhile, I barely knew how to put on lip gloss. If I wore even a hint of makeup, my parents would think I was trying to be someone I wasn't, especially my dad. Shorts or tank tops? No way. Even in the Texas heat, I was confined to jeans and T-shirts. Eunji's mom, on the other hand, encouraged her to experiment with style, always buying her perfumes and jewelry.

"Lily?" Eunji's voice pulled me back. "Are you still there?"

"Oh, yeah," I mumbled, pretending to have been deeply engrossed in her story about her mom's latest shopping trip. My thoughts were spiraling-my lack of achievements, my grades, my "low" SAT score. It was all crashing over me.

Then she mentioned her GPA. "I've managed to keep a 4.0, unweighted," she said, almost like it was a throwaway fact. She didn't mean to make me feel dumb, but I felt a tight knot form in my chest. My own GPA was hovering at 3.5.

"Wow... you're amazing, Eunji," I said, trying to keep my voice even. "You're probably one of the smartest people I know."

"That's you, Lily!" she replied, cheerful as ever. "You just don't give yourself enough credit."

I knew she was just trying to be nice, but it only made me feel worse. After a few more words, Eunji had to go-she had an early ice-skating practice, of course. I said goodbye, and the call ended, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I sat there for a while, the silence creeping around me. My mind ran through every worry, every insecurity. How was I ever going to get into a good college, get a good job, accomplish my goals? My grades were barely hanging on, I wasn't in any prestigious clubs, I wasn't involved in sports anymore, and I didn't have some miraculous talent that would make up for it all.

I felt the weight of it all like a giant, suffocating blanket. My chest grew tight, and before I knew it, tears were streaming down my cheeks. Why couldn't I be more like Eunji, more like the other girls at my school who seemed to have everything together? Even my mom sometimes reminded me that I'd never be as beautiful as my sister, and that was supposed to be a "comforting" thought.

I didn't know if I had any special gift at all. I cried until my chest ached and my eyes burned. It was like the floodgates had opened, and I couldn't hold it in any longer. I just kept crying, sobbing into the quiet of my room. Something that happens to often to be healthy.

. . .

Thanks for reading this far. Was this fine? Please do give constructive criticism, it is my first time writing about something serious. Tell me if I should continue.