smoke I gracy I ✔️

*5*

I yawned as I walked to class alone. Bee was absent today and had left me with nothing but myself for seven hours of school. I sigh. I decided to go to the art club Mr.Smith had invited me into. This was a great opportunity for a scholarship to Harvard or Yale. Might as well take up the opportunity while it's there.
I enter my first class and walk over to the back where my usual seat was. I rest my head on my hands. I need to be careful. When I mean careful, I mean real cautious. Some girls tried to jump me for some stupid unknown reason this morning. Then, they called me awful names that no human being should here, nor come out of their mouth. Things like hooker, whore, slut, and a female dog. Later did I find out that they were the two girls that follow Erica around like her slave. Kind of like an entourage. I bet they hate Erica as much as I do. I can't see why they follow her around and actually like her if she uses them for popularity. What did I do to her that made her hate me so much to the point where she'd want to harm me? I snap out of my thoughts when Mr.Davis walks in and starts to write some Algebra equations on the board for us to solve. I take out my journal to try and drive my thoughts into the exercise we were supposed to do. Five minutes in, my head was wrapped around solving the complex equations. My head was down, answering the arduous math problems. But in the corner of my eye, I can see what is still going on. A girl then slips by in front of me without saying a word and 'drops' a small piece of paper on my desk. Without looking back, she slips into her seat and continues her work. I assume that it's for me and I pick the note up gingerly. Another hate note? Name calling? As the regular Stacy Hinojosa would say that this is utterly immature, it really does get to me.

The paper is folded neatly into a square. I open it up and I see horrible things written on it. I scan the writing of poisonous messages from different people and different handwriting. Why do people think that I'm a thot? I've dated any guys in my life before. That how could I have had sex? I'm way too young for that stuff. I can feel myself on the brink of tears. I keep muttering to myself that I won't be a crybaby. No no no no. I scan the paper once again. Then one word catches me by surprise, written in neat cursive handwriting.

Adopted bitch.

I take a few seconds to comprehend what I had just read. How does everyone know? The school had notified me that they'd keep my adoption and my privacy to their selves. They said that I could trust them with this information. What kind of high school lets students bully others? Apparently my school does. I felt like I just wanted to disappear right then and there.
I ask my teacher if I could go to the bathroom real quick, hoping my voice won't crack and he nods at me. I hear my classmates whisper and mutter under their breath as I rush out of the door and into the bathroom. I lean myself on the sink and I start to let go. Big hot tears roll down my eyes and down my already reddened cheeks. Who could've done this? Who? I start to brainstorm. Could it be Bee? Nah, she's like a sister to me. She couldn't have done this....right? Graser? Maybe. What if he was just being nice so that I wouldn't have suspected it? Erica? Definitely. But I need more evidence before I report this or else I'll look like a fool.

I wash my face with the cold sink water and dry it with some paper towels. I hurry back to my classroom wishing that I wasn't in the bathroom too late.

Sadly I was. Luckily Mr.Davis had given me a warning this time and didn't give me detention. What brought me down was that I heard people snicker. People then noticed the red around my eyes from all the crying I did back in the restroom. It made them snicker more. I still can't believe these people and their bickering. They should be ashamed of themselves. I power walk back to seat, right when the bell for the second period of math begins.