As I stared at myself in the mirror, I could not believe what I was seeing. I blinked about twelve times before I realized that this wasn't going to go away. My little brother, Jerry, announced my dilemma, "Call the mapmakers! Alert the media! The new Mount Everest is on Christie's face! Step right up to see the biggest-" I threw a tube of toothpaste at him and scowled as he dodged it and ran down the hall laughing.
He may be only two years younger than I, but sometimes Jerry acts like a three-year-old.
I turned back to the mirror and my reflection confirmed that this was officially the worst day of my life. Only the first day of eighth grade, and I already had a pimple. Not just a pimple, but a pimple the size of Mauna Loa.
I looked at the scattered products on the counter. I had tried every zit-zapper, but none of them had worked. I opened the drawer on the right side of the sink and took out my make-up bag. Finding some concealer, I put it all over my face so it would blend. I put on blush, eyeliner, mascara, and lipstick until I couldn't stall anymore, and had to do something with my hair.
I stared into the mirror and sighed. My messy brown hair was strewn around my face like Medusa's snakes. After I ripped my hairbrush through it impatiently and tied it back into pigtails, I took a big can of hairspray and sprayed it until I knew that my hair was going to stay in place.
I walked through the hallway and down the stairs to the kitchen, stuffing a pop-tart into the toaster as I went to cram my new school supplies into my bag. Hearing the ping of the toaster, I rushed to get my breakfast before it burned. Slinging my backpack over my shoulder, I headed out to catch the bus.
The bus ride was the same as last year. It was bumpy, loud, and hot. I decided to organize my backpack on the bus ride, putting my books in order of largest to smallest. I then organized my highlighters and pens by color, matching the colors of the rainbow as close as I could, and then by size.
We were almost at school, and I hadn't seen anyone familiar on the bus. My friends must have gotten rides or ridden their bikes. I hoped I would meet someone in class that I could talk to on the bus every day.
We didn't have a homeroom at Sierra Middle, so I just went to my first - and least favorite - class, Literature. We had Mr. Paynes for literature, and he wasn't my favorite teacher, if you know what I mean. I sat down in the second row, desk one to the right of the middle seat. I didn't like being front or center, just in case Mr. Paynes changed his style of teaching over the summer and was now calling on the front row. No one sat front and center; they were probably thinking the same thing.
The only people who sat in the front row at all were the brainiacs of the class. Even though this was the advanced class, there were still levels of smartness.
Katie Davis sat in front, like always. Katie was always the top of the class, no matter what. Even when she got pneumonia and had to stay home for a few months, she got straight A's. Everyone expected her to be valedictorian.
Jared Kretcher sat next to her. He was always in her shadow. She hated him because there were those unusual moments where he would get 101% on a test, and she would get 100%. He, however, had a little crush on Katie, and it was obvious to everyone but Katie.
There were five columns of desks, each column with six desks behind it, all facing the white board. Katie and David sat on the left side of front and center, and two kids I didn't know sat on the right. The girl in front of me was laughing and writing notes to the guy on the right of me. The other girl's bangles jingled like bells as she tied her hair back in a ponytail.
The door opened again at 8:20 - five minutes before the bell - and everyone got quiet and looked up to see the new addition to our class. The girl that walked through the door surprised us. She was tall and skinny and had long, bleach-blonde hair. It was straight and hung past her shoulders, over her old Abercrombie shirt. The bright yellow shirt looked comfortable against her faded blue jeans.
