A GIRL LIKE YOU > 80's URBAN FICTION.

i.

EDITED.
SEPTEMBER 20TH, 1988.

9/20/88.

DEAR DIARY,

I don't have much to say but I'm kinda nervous of going to this new school. Even though it's my senior year and I'm switching schools at this time now, I think it'll be really hard for me to fit in. I mean, I have to wear the school uniform with these khaki pants or skirts- Everyday.

I probably won't fit in because everyone will know each other already, and I'll just be one of the outcasts that nobody ever fucked with. So, let's keep hope in the new year that I'll most likely pass and go to a good college around California.

I placed my diary down on my bed and started to lace my black shoes. It's my first and last year in this new school which goes by the name of William Howard Taft Charter High School. As you see, I did a little research about this new school before I actually attend there.

I never went to their orientation days, my aunt Dee claims that there are kids who does summer school likes to catcall young girls and start some tomfoolery with the incoming freshmen or new students.

The school was big and well known for famous people spending their adolescent years here. I heard that some actress from the Brady Bunch attended there years ago before she went Hollywood, and many more famous people attended and graduated there, also.

The last school I attended was Compton High School, also known as the school being ranked #99 in that "100 Best High Schools In California, article.

I was doing terrible around the middle of the school year, due to me suddenly being engulfed in problems and unnecessary drama that surrounded my friends. By the end of junior year, they all turned their backs on me, and I was alone for the rest of the month of June.

We always hung out, every single summer, we'll go to south central and sometimes linger around Beverly Hills in North Los Angeles. One time we nearly got into it with the police one summer night back in 1987, because they claimed we were "disturbing the peace."

This summer was dull, due to my friends suddenly not wanting to talk to me anymore, and I mostly lingered around the park where the ghetto 11-year-olds play. They mostly argue with older kids, next thing you know, you hear them bellow "don't even think about touching me with yo' crusty ass, I'll have my mama out and she'll bust a cap in yo' black ass!"

And they say all of this nonsense if someone stolen a jump rope or if someone cheated during freeze tag.

But in other words, Hopefully, I'll make new friends in this school but I especially hope I don't get inside of the drama and trouble at this school. I heard a lot of stories from that place, and I hope my name doesn't pop up in one of their stories.

I added some MAC Brave Red lipstick and adjusted my headband and short curls. "Nia! Hurry your ass down here before you miss the first day of school!" My aunt Dee yelled downstairs for me.

I rapidly ran downstairs, before Dee told me some last minute advice. "Nia, be careful, okay? And be active. I don't want you to be sitting down there being quiet and inactive. Go out there and make new friends, okay?"

"Yeah, I will." I replied back, "girl, hold up. Is that lipstick you wearing? Honey, this is a school, not a photoshoot!" Dee exclaimed.