The Bad Boy's Trophy

We Are Doomed

"Well look who we have here, our favorite little ginger, how are you Hills." Steve said as he lightly pulled on a piece of my hair. I looked down as I tried to back away from his touch. He has always had something against the color of my hair, it's insane. He never fails to point it out. He says something about it at least once whenever he sees me but he has never made fun of it. It's not even like it's that red! It's more of an auburn color.

Steve is easily the worst person I have ever met. He is even worse than Jace most of the time. He has been Jace's best friend since he moved to our town in the 4th grade. Steve and Jace have been inseparable ever since. He is arguably the meanest out of the three of them and I could never work out why. He has everything, he couldn't be jealous of anyone. I dont know why he specifically targets me all the time. Maybe it's to impress Jace, who seems like he has his own personal mission to ruin my life, or because he thinks I'm worthless and should be treated as such.

Probably the one you said about being worthless because you are worthless.

"I dont think we can call her little anymore, my friend, looks like someone finally went through puberty! Congrats sweetheart!" Jace laughed as his eyes fell to my chest.

Isn't puberty supposed to make you pretty or something? Please tell me this is not our glow up! We are doomed.

I nervously shifted as I squeezed my books to cover my chest. Making sure my journal was still the second book from the top. I would probably die if this journal got into the wrong hands. I write everything in it, mom likes to say journaling helps you stay grounded. I think she just knows that if I keep all of my thoughts in my head I will explode. It is also where I write all of my lyrics down when I'm struck with inspiration.

One of the only things I have of my birth mother is her guitar. My dad pretty much chucked any and all of her other things but he kept her guitar. He said that she was almost as in love with it as she was with him. I swear every time my dad looked at it I could see the pain in his eyes. I decided to keep it in my room and play it when he isn't home, which lately is most of the time.

I could feel Jace's eyes on me. There was just something about Jace's bright blue eyes basically staring a hole through my shirt that made my heart skip a beat.

"Oh wow, you are right Jace. Our friend Ems over here has really done some growing up! What size are you now, no wait let me guess, 38B? No wait 34C. Yep defiantly, tell me I'm right babe."

Yep we are totally doomed.

I looked down at the ground. It isn't like I would ever tell him this but he got it right. "I -I don't have to answer that, I'm not going to answer that. That is private." I said shifting again. Jesus, why can't I talk normally.

Stupid.

"What did I tell you fellas, I'm a psychic when it comes to bra sizes, I'm also quite magical at handling what's inside them." He winked at me with a wicked grin. This is such a new development from last year but it's not necessarily an improvement.

Last year they would just insult me and call me ugly and fat. They would explain to me how just the sight of me made them want to throw up. They would ask if I needed a training bra yet and now Steve is winking at me. Me! No one would ever wink at me like Steve just did. What is happening. Why is this happening. I just want to get to class. The first bell should ring soon.