Switched

Chapter 1 : Ima

"Name: Grace White. Age: 18. Description: Long blonde hair, blue eyes, thin body. Hobbies include: Working out at the gym and long walks on the beach." As I type this into my computer, I can't help but realize how many lies I am telling about myself. Okay, okay, it's all a lie. But what was I supposed to do? This is CouplesCreator, and do you know how many people would even take a second glance at my profile if I told the truth? 0. None. Nada. Zippo. Maybe I just need somebody to talk to that can understand me. I mean, lets face it, my only friends are puppies from the animal shelter that I volunteer at over the weekends. Not even the cats like me! That's right, normal seventeen-year-olds would be going to the mall, painting their nails, and hanging with their best friends---except me.Let me sum this up for you: For starters my name is Ima Pickle. I think I have the worst name in the world. I was stuck with the last name Pickle, but Mom and Dad had to make it worse, so it now sounds like "I'm a pickle". I mean seriously guys, what were you thinking? Anyway, I have curly, frizzy, dull black hair that looks like it hasn't had a brush run through it in ages...Okay, I'll admit it, I dont brush it, but what good will it do if it doesn't make a difference in my hard-to-manage-hair anyway? I have green eyes---not the appealing, charming green eyes, which most people seem to have---but repulsive, puke-colored green eyes. And please, my body is anything but thin. I guess I just eat the loneliness away by devouring the many cartons of cookies and cream ice cream we own in the fridge. Last time I stepped up on the scale, I was a whopping 170 pounds. "Ima, you're going to be late! Get down here now!" Dad calls. Oh yeah, I almost forgot. I was so caught up on thinking about how bad my life is that I forgot about the place where I look down at my shoes whenever I see someone coming my way, the place where snobby girls in cliques give me bad looks in the hallways, the place where I most dread going to, the place where I don't have one single friend---school. Oh the joys of being me! I exhale loudly, slam my laptop shut, and run down the stairs. I would trade places with anyone---and I mean anyone in a heartbeat. My name is Ima Pickle and I am the biggest loser on the entire face of the planet.

Chapter 2: Cassandra

I'm just finishing up straightening my last strand of already-straight brown hair, when I hear a whistle out my window. Todd's here! I think to myself. "Just a second!" I call from my bathroom window. Just keep calm, you guys have only been dating for a few weeks, I silently think to myself. I quickly rebrush my thick, luscious hair and make sure it has extra shine to it before I slowly make my way down the neatly polished steps, careful not to smear my flawless makeup, which took forever to do. Clunk, clunk, clunk. "My new red heels are so loud on these wooden steps!" I say to my sister, Abby, as she joins me and strolls down the steps beside me. The truth is, I've always been a bit jealous of my sister. Abby has this natural look to her, like she doesn't even need makeup. She could wear a paper bag over her head and she'd still be stunning. Abby is twelve, and we get along nicely, even though there's a 5 year difference. Abby makes a face "Yikes! You could do better" she says. "Oh, and, Cass? You have a huge rip in your jeans." My heart stops as I slowly look down at my jeans. All these thoughts are racing through my head but I don't have time to process them. These are my favorite jeans, the only ones that fit perfectly! How could this happen? I am panicking, but too afraid to look down. "Just kidding! Man, you're such a girly-girl!" she squeals. Did I mention Abby is extremely outgoing? I hear a car horn honk and swing open the front door to reveal what looks like a brand new, shiny silver Convertible in the driveway. Todd smiles as I open the side door and begin to question him. "When did you get this? How much was it? Is it brand new? I curiously ask. "Woah, woah, woah, slow down. My parents got it for me last night---they said they thought I was responsible enough and mature enough to handle my own car, but I think that's just an excuse for them saying they're tired of me driving around their old Jeep." Todd looks very pleased with himself. "Well congratulations! I'm so glad that---Todd, look at the time! It's 7:55! School starts at 8:00!" I cry. "Alright, I'm going!" he says. For some reason, Todd is always a bit late to school, which means for the last few weeks I've been late to school. We make small talk on the way there, and don't get me wrong, Todd's a great boyfriend and all, but sometimes he can be so painfully boring.