Kissed by the Alpha

Sometimes I just wish I could disappear...

Sometimes I just wish I could disappear. I don't mean like die or anything morbid like that. I just wish I was invisible, so people would stop staring at me.

Okay, I know that sounds totally self-obsessed so I should probably explain. I'm definitely not some celeb, or even Insta-famous or anything like that. I'm also not so hideous that people can't help but stare at me, or so gorgeous that their eyes are drawn to me like magnets. It's nothing like that.

I'm actually kind of average. I have mousy hair, this light shade of brown that's really nothing to brag about. It falls past my shoulders, sort of like a curtain that I can hide behind. My sweater is like that too, not so baggy that it draws attention, but just large enough for my flat, skinny frame to disappear in. My nose is a bit too large, but not so much so that it's noticeable, and I only notice that my lips are too wide if I stare in the mirror long enough. Then there's my eyes, which I doubt anyone would remember a second after looking away.   

I doubt anyone gives the rest of me a second glance either, especially not next to my best friend, Nat. We always walk to school together, and she usually spends the entire fifteen minutes talking nonstop. Today, it's some story about one of her brothers, but I'm not paying enough attention to know which one. She's a little too animated, and a little too loud, and I just know people are staring. Logically, I also know they should be staring at her, and not me, but still.

I'm not sure how you've been picturing my best friend, but let me stop you right there and get something straight. Nat isn't some gorgeous supermodel or anything like that. If that's why you think people might be staring, you're way off the mark. She's also not some out there goth girl, or super obese, or covered in scars or whatever, so I might as well just tell you.

Nat looks like all those things they make fun of in movies: nerd, geek, dork, loser. Only no one ever says it to her face... or behind her back, at least not that I know of. Yeah, Nat has braces, large, silver, metal-framed glasses, and frizzy brown hair... but she's also got three brothers. If anyone even thinks to make fun of her, Ben, Sam or Chris put a stop to it... and since I'm Nat's best friend, they have to look out for me, too.

They can keep people from saying things to my face, but that doesn't stop the staring. I can feel eyes boring into me as they silently judge my every move. As we cross the street, I notice people looking up, or staring a bit too long. I wonder if I have something on my face, or in my hair, or if my sweater is inside out... even though I looked in the mirror right before I left the house. 

I know if I ask Nat, she'll tell me it's all in my head, in my imagination. Not that I've asked her or anything, but like, if I did, in theory... if I told her I thought people were staring, that's what she'd tell me. Obviously, I don't though. Ask, that is. I don't need Nat staring at me like I'm a freak right along with everyone else.