Up The Down Escalator

Chapter 3

So, basically, everything was going great.
And then I turned thirteen. 
Some people say that you don't go fully into "teenager mode" until you're fourteen. That when you're thirteen you're still a happy preppy little kid. Let me just say that those people either have never been thirteen or don't remember what it was like to be thirteen because I'm telling you, it sucks. Suddenly you go from being this cute little kid who is totally happy and optimistic about life, the universe, and everything to being........well........thirteen.
Aside from all the natural stuff that happens to girls around that age, I was trapped in school with 59 other girls in my grade who were all going through said natural stuff.
And then the hormones started. The hormones were the worst!  Girls got annoyed. Girls got annoying.  Girls got upset. Girls got upsetting.
But the absolute worst of the worst was the social aspect. Suddenly, everything became about hair and looks and boys and how popular you were and all that stuff.
I had always been content with my small group of close friends. I being, well, me, I couldn't exactly hope for anything better than that. But it wasn't I who was the problem.
People in my group started trying to move to other groups. Our grade was about as cliquey as any grade of sixty seventh graders. So, yeah, you can probably imagine how hard it was to join other groups of friends.
My friends were close, drifted away, close again, drifting again. It was pretty bad.
A great start to our teenage years, am I right?
But regardless, I got used to it.  I learned to deal with it like I would any other obstacle in life.
I continued my life, both online and off. Kept up my grades, despite teachers growing more and more demanding as we gradually entered the middle part of the school year.
I spent a lot of time talking to my friends from other schools. There was another school in the area called Yarneh Academy. It was a lot like RYNJ except, it was normal and actually had the girls in the same class as the boys. This was actually the school that Allison Weedon attended. However I did have many friends that lived around me that also went to this school. Molly Lopez was one such girl.
"Oh, Angelica, look what I found!" Molly says excitedly. It is late Saturday night and we are in the middle of cleaning out her room together. "It's the Yarneh literary magazine from when we were in sixth grade!" She holds up a red, nicely bound book.
I laugh. "Were you guys any good?"
She smiles, looking through the pages, "some of us were. Oh, especially this girl," she exclaims coming to a halt at one if the pages.
"Who is it?" I inquire, sitting down on the floor next to her.
"Allison Weedon," she answers looking over at me. "Ever met her?"
I close my eyes and sigh, taking the book from her, "you could say that"
I skim through her writing and all I can say is: wow. The way she constructs the sentences, she makes them feel like more than just words. Reading her work, it gives me an actual feeling of the message she is trying to dispatch to the reader.
I make myself put the book down.
And that was the second time mine and Allison Weedon's lives crossed one another's. I myself wrote as much as I could but I knew that mine could never compare to her's.
But her effect on my life was still not over. This next part occurred in school in the end of the winter with my friend Mimi Holeman who also happened to be in camp that same summer.
The end of day bell sounds, freeing us girls from the evil clutches of the dreaded Mrs. Hawkbim, our math teacher.
"Have a good night and everyone PLEASE remember the homework tonight. We do NOT want a repeat of yesterday's word problem fiasco!"
She is right. We most definitely do not.
I pull my locker open, revealing three shelves overflowing with textbooks and papers. I sigh, checking myself in the mirror to see if I am getting gray hairs yet.
I dump a few notebooks into my backpack and struggle to lift it up. I start walking down the hall. Mimi falls into step next to me.
"You remember Allison Weedon from camp?" She says.
"Don't remind me."
"Well I FaceTimed her last night."
"Oh really? Did you tell her that I still hate her?"
"Yes I made sure of it." Mimi replies. "And then she......." She looks down and curls her middle finger.
"She actually cursed me out, didn't she?" I say, understanding the hint.
"Shhhh, not so loud" she whispers, gesturing towards one of the administrators, standing in the hallway.
"Well, I guess I can cross that one off the bucket list," I mutter Believe it or not, no one has ever done that to me before.
"She also said that you look like a weasel."
I double over with laughter, causing suspicious looks from a passerby.
"What's so funny?" Mimi asks.
"I've read that girl's writing before. She is AMAZING with words, and the best insult she could come up with for me is 'she looks like a weasel'?"
So my life was going pretty good with some ups and downs here and there.
All in all, I was happy

__________

Wow, that was a long chapter.
Questions about the story?
Questions about the meaning of life?
I can answer everything. Well, almost everything. I'm not a philosophical human being by nature, but I can become one for short periods of time.
But AAAAAANYWAYS. Comments on the story?
Oh no, here come the hater comments. HIT ME WITH YOUR BEST SHOT (lol daisy_demon )
Okay
I'm probably annoying people now.
I'm not even sure why I brought you guys down here.
Well then
Farewell, people of this planet (I forgot the name)