From Below

I'm Phillip, You're My Mate

(Photo is who I imagine Reina to be, the very beautiful India Eisley)

Chapter Playlist:
Barefoot Cinderella by Miley Cyrus

One of the most obvious things you notice about my school, West Brown High School, is the number of model wannabes walking around. Years ago, before instant OOTDs and selfies were invented, nobody really gave a crap about keeping up with the latest trends or clothes. Now literally everyone thinks there's something mentally wrong with you if you don't own atleast one choker or cropped top or bomber jacket. I'm pathetically one of the victims of peer pressure and have my own bomber jacket at home. It's nice to fit in sometimes.

I walk in the gates as I wave our dad goodbye as he drove away. I'm still a bit giddy about what my mom said this morning and I can't wait to tell Maricor and the others.

My first class starts in less than 15 minutes but I still had time to stop by my locker. David, one of my friends who is an absolute giant, has his locker two lockers to left, right across from mine. I eye his tall figure standing for atleast 6'0" as I approach my locker. He sees me too.

David is, unlike me, very pale skinned and has dark brown hair. He is pure american, while I've got some bit of asian blood making my skin pale yellow-ish color. My mom is half filipino, half korean and my dad is purely american. I got my green eyes from him. David is slightly chubby but he joins the volleyball team so he's very active. However his athletic nature doesn't cover up his love for Disney. He's a huge softie inside.

He greets me, "Hey girl" he says "girl" like gurl. Most people might mistake him as gay, but he's just really a sassy, slightly feminine guy.

"Hi Dave. Is Maricor here yet?" I ask him while opening my locker to put in some books and take out the ones I need this morning.

He places his hand on his hips dramatically and says, "I believe the horse is already in English."

I close my locker. "Oh ok. I'm going now too, see you at lunch, bye." I say.

"Sure. Ttyl." He says.

We tease, or should I say, THEY tease Maricor as "horse" because she's got slightly bigger two front teeth and runs really fast. She joins the track and field team here. I don't tease her because I don't want to be teased back. And there are already enough people who label me as "smurf". Mostly I'm being teased in my head and I know not everyone really cares about how short I am, I just am really insecure and anxious about it that I judge myself all the time. As if doing so will prevent others from teasing me as well.

I believe that if she only knew how to do magical makeup (makeup that's so good that you literally look like a godess pooped in your face with rainbow) like the millions of girls on instagram or tumblr, she could basically be a model. Her wavy dirty blonde locks and blue eyes make her look like a hollywood actress and her boyfriend, Ronny, knows he's lucky to have her even when the girl is tonedeaf.

Behind her positivite spirit, she's had a rough childhood compared to the most of us. I remember eating only half of my lunches when we were in 2nd grade because I would give my food to her. Her real parents were really bad people, at least that's what our parents used to tell us, that she was taken away from them and was sent to live with her great aunt Tris. Nobody knows where Mr. and Mrs. Wick are now, but Maricor knows she's better off now. Anyway, she's happy.

This morning, we had English first with Mr. Kalaghan. I attend his class with Maricor. Of course, we don't sit next to each other. I forgot to mention that this girl is actually of normal height (proud 5"5 & 1/2) and is seated at the second to the last row at the back. Obviously, her 5-inch less friend belongs to the frontrow like most tiny people. "Tiny" is just like a cute way to put it. Compared to the 5"2's or 5"1's next to me, I'm like a midget.