A flick of my wrist, with a rotation of the wand in between, results in a perfect coat of mascara on my left eyelashes, quickly followed by another on my right eye. Always waterproof. Adding a light layer of concealer to hide my dark circles, and a dusting of powder to set the minimal amount of makeup on my face, I finish my look off with a clear lipgloss.
I take my hair down from the bun I left it in overnight, brushing through its silky, blonde, length, taking care of any tangles. Running over it with a straightener and massaging oils into my scalp, I hum along to the tune of Mozart's 40th Symphony. What can I say, I'm a fan of classical music. After finishing off with my hair, I gather it into two sections, and swiftly braid it away from my face, leaving it in a french braid down my back.
I sigh and walk into my dressing room, looking through my large array of clothes and shoes, and lightly frowning as I try to figure out what to wear. After debating between two different tops, I finally settle on a lacy white crop top that contrasts nicely against my tanned skin, and a flowy pink skirt that accentuates my slight curves. Finally, I throw on an oversized jean jacket to cover up with, and slip into a pair of black heels, in a pathetic effort to increase my height. It doesn't work.
I force a smile in the mirror and straighten my lightly shaking shoulders, ignoring the feeling of dread weighing down my lungs, and curling up in my stomach. The feeling that has been with me for the last two months, from the moment I wake up to the moment I fall asleep. If anyone asks about me, how I'm doing, and why I haven't been at school lately, I know I simply need to give them some kind of smile, flip my hair over my shoulder, and tell them I'm just fine. Why wouldn't I be?
If I want to stay strong, to let myself believe that everything will be okay, I need to be my normal cheery self, with no more hesitations and no more breakdowns. I need to get through the next two years of high school, I need to graduate college, and I need to... figure the rest out when my mind is clearer. Until then, focusing on my family and my education will have to do.
"Enough thinking! I need to get downstairs and eat breakfast, or I'll be late for school!" I mutter to myself, probably sounding like a psychopath. Oh well, that's not too far off from my reality. Kidding.
On my way out, I hug my mom and sister, wishing both of them a lovely day, and ignoring their protests of me not eating enough.
"Mom! Its fine, I'm okay, I have a granola bar in my bag, I'll eat it on the way to school." I reassure her as I rush out the door. I dash to the bus stop, even getting there early, giving me time to munch on my not-so-healthy breakfast and tuck a few loose strands of hair behind my ears. Checking my watch, I realise I got here way too early, so I sit on the bench and set my bag down next to my feet, regretting the delicious pancakes I could have been eating at the moment.
Taking out my phone, I begin scrolling mindlessly through Instagram, checking what my friends have been up to. Seven minutes later, I'm deep into my friend's aunt's grandma's feed, who took a vacation to Madrid in 2009, and met a Leonardo DiCaprio lookalike in a local grocery store. Don't ask how it got here, I don't even know. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice a vague outline of a boy my age who seems to be headed towards my bus stop, which takes me by surprise.
I may have missed the first few weeks of school in order to... recover, but damn, if this guy transferred to our school, wouldn't my friends have told me about him? I mean, he seems to have the face of a model and the body of a Greek god. As he nears the bus stop, I'm already in the group chat I have with my two best friends Emma and Kaelyn, asking them who the hell this kid is.
rosemary.moore:
who's the new kid?
its.emma.floods:
