Girls Astray. [Complete]

Amy: The girl who believes

'Hi Sexy ;) T ': the words burst across my phone screen, as my eyes widen and my jaw slowly drops like a fish. Closing my mouth, I roll my eyes furiously. Sexy- me- per-lease. And yet I can't suppress my tiny smile, my tiny bit of delight, as my heart seems to melt a little bit. Tom Price thinks I'm sexy. Really?

Scraping my mousy brown hair back into a ponytail, I mentally prepare myself for today: sports day. The day that may as well have been invented to torture plump, un-athletic, teenagers like me. You know the type, bookish, a little bit wobbly around the edges- likes pizza? Yep, that's me.

I begin to type 'Hey you ;-)', but then glance over at the red Lycra shorts I'll have to wear today. Yeah, you heard me right- red- skintight- shorts. It's like they were designed to torture us. Not even Lolita could avoid a camel toe in these bad boys, and she may as well be a Victoria Secret model.

Deleting the text, I start again: 'Did you misplace your glasses this morning? Or are you after something from me?' Smiling like a love-sick puppy at my phone, my heart pounds as I click send. Should I have said the second message? Is it too much?

Instantly my phone buzzes and the colour comes flooding to my cheeks as I read one simple word: 'You.'

My stomach summersaults as I take it in. These kind of things don't happen to me. For Lolita it's almost a daily occurrence, but for me, this is a first. I've always been Lolita's quiet, chubby little friend. The one you talk to just to get to her, not the one you aim for.

I'm still smiling when I catch sight of myself in the mirror, making my rosy chipmunk cheeks protrude even more than usual. The smile drops instantly as I take in my reflection.

I mean, what does Tom see in me?

Brown eyes stare back at me from a pale moon like face. Round nose, round mouth, round cheeks- round in general. My hair lies limply in my ponytail. Unremarkable.

My phone buzzes to life, which sends an electric current shooting up my arm all the way to my mouth.

'Do I take that as you don't want me? ;-) T x'

My heart thuds against my chest at 100 miles an hour. I can hardly believe this is happening to me: plain, old, dumpy Amy. 

I glance at my laptop, 'That Girl' is still open on my browser. Lolita's always been in charge of the love and relationship section, whereas I generally stick to the more informative pieces. Well, gossip, fluff pieces more recently. I might actually be adding my own addition to Lolita's turf soon. Butterflies flap around my stomach, clumsily crashing into each other. Maybe I'm getting ahead of myself...