After the dreaded music class was finished, I stormed to my locker. Luckily all music was was theory. The only problem with that is I was stuck on a seating plan. I had to sit between a girl with dark red lipstick and rouge smudges all over her cheeks and the muscily boy again. The girl with the dark red lipstick spoke to me.
"From the country are you?" she smirked, chewing an enormous wad of gum.
"Actually, I have lived here all my life." I replied not smiling, but not scowling either. The girl, who later I found out was Stacey, scowled at me.
"You sure don't look like it, not with that hair you're not." she laughed nastily. My hair was in a ponytail. Hers was in a French braid.
"If you expect me to be a cake face like you, shut up, because that's not going to happen." I retorted, anger rising up.
Stacey got defensive. "At least I don't look like I came out of a trashcan, at least I look like a human being. I am shocked that you can walk the streets looking like that."
At this point I was ready to slap her. The arguing went on like this for half an hour. This last comment was from me. I stood up and said "Do yourself a favour and rub all that crap off your face, I am sure your friends won't want a shitface to be their friend."
