"Tell me that you're alright! Yeah, everything is alright. Oh, please tell me that you're alright! Yeah, everything is alright."
I suck at a lot of things in life. Of course, some of the best advice I was ever told was that you had to suck a lot before you could be any good. Problem is, it takes forever, and I don't have that kind of time. You know?
I'm only fourteen, my name's Kate, and I think I'm pretty damn awesome. It's not an arrogant thing though; I just love me as much as I love most of the people around me. Confident isn't the right word, but maybe optimistic would sum up me.
I think it annoys people, the way I can't ever seem to hate someone. I can't take being hated either. It keeps me up at night and makes me rethink a lot of things.
I have self-doubt, fo-sho.
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I've never been a freshman before. I've also never been "fresh meat" before, which makes me sound rather gross. That's the point I suppose.
The only redeeming part is that, unlike every other school year, I have friends going into this year with me. Not many, mind you, but I have at least a few. I was shocked too.
Hannah walked into my life, or was rather approached, early the year previous. She was platinum blonde, and it was her natural color. She couldn't have been a pound over eighty; she was so skinny. I wasn't any taller than her at first, but now, I had passed her by a smidge.
We had so much in common in the beginning, from extremely awkward shyness to size-too-small Hollister brand shirts. Looking back, I'd probably have made fun of us if it weren't actually me. And her. Luckily, we changed. Together.
What brought us together: gym class and a cute skater boy. We were completely infatuated with this boy for the longest time, and I'll be the first to admit, I still think he's cute. He was my first crush, my first heartbreak, my first rejection, and my first introduction to the world.
I'm what you would call "sheltered." My parents are too rich for their own good, and they're more paranoid than a gang member dealing drugs. Well, if I cut them some slack, I could say my dad isn't too horrible; my daddy, my daddy-kins. No kind words can be said about the woman who gave birth to me. But, back to the point I wasn't really trying to make.
My and Hannah's rebellious urges, combined with a rough-sided boy and rubber bands, quickly turned us from preppy-gone-wrong to the emo-est girls in all of the hick state, Arkansas. See, you didn't even think that was possible. It is, was.
Yeah, we had the dark jackets. We quickly switched to more scene looking hoodies.
Yes, she had the skinniest jeans, and I had the second skinniest.
Uh huh, we had the eye-covering hair. Mine started out parted down the middle and hers in a ponytail. She never wears it up anymore, and I have hair heavily parted to the side. The right side.
Her eyes were always eyeliner covered and mine are now, though not as much. It takes the kid out of my look, and I like leaving all that behind.
And, even though Hannah probably wouldn't admit it to you, we went through self-abuse, too.
She was first, and she went full out, slicing a complete line near the very top of her wrist. I'm fairly sure the mark is still there to this day. We moved to rubber bands, liking the temporary pain that kept us out of trouble with authorities because of the quick fading mark.
It wasn't enough for me. I experimented with a shaving razor one night and only achieved a scratch, but the scar left me satisfied. We didn't do it to be cool, nobody else did it, and we certainly didn't do it for attention. Both of our parents would be all over our ass if they knew even a smidge about it. It was all a secret, aside from between only us two.
Enough about Hannah for the moment. I had another friend. A more... typical girl, with a typical name: Kayla. We met in Science class, with the single greatest teacher I ever had. And probably will ever. Our lab partners were assigned by a matching game. I was Zach, and she was Cody. We still call each other that sometimes.
Hannah may be my other half, but Kayla will always be my best friend in the whole world.
Kayla looks a lot like I used to; brown hair, much darker than me though, plain ol' brown eyes, and a puppy dog boyfriend. He was the only thing I hated about her, and he was the reason I looked elsewhere from Kayla. The reason I felt so compelled to get to know Hannah.
Naturally, Kayla hates her. Jealous friends, what can you do?
