17.2

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As much as I wanted to wallow in self pity and blame others for what I had done, I didn't. Because it was all my fault. I had let it get to my head that i was beautiful and special. I realize, now, that I was only ruining my life. I had disappointed my parents morally and embarrassed them in the neighborhood.

But the part that hurt most?

Being such a terrible role model for Liberty.

I remember how her green eyes shone in disappointment, and the frown on her face. Then I break down and cry.

It was then I decided that I'd give them one last thing to be proud of me for, and that was my academics.

When I was a freshman I was a wild one. I didn't care about my grades and I often got detention. I managed a measly 2.8 GPA at the end of the school year. When sophomore year came around I decided to be serious. I dropped all the guys at school and only messed with Jay. But he fucked up and I was able to move forward with a 3.2. GPA.

A 3.2 GPA isn't enough to get me into a good college or a scholarship. This year I was going to make history. So I laid low, started wearing oversized sweaters and leggings and, of course, scarves. I honestly didn't care about my appearance anymore. Looks weren't everything, after all.

Even Gold was surprised. But she didn't say anything; maybe she understood. We didn't talk about it, but she was supposed to. She was my best friend, after all. In school during study hall I'd bury myself in books and research. I turned in my homework earlier and all my studying didn't go to waste; I got A's in all my tests and in the final exam I had the highest grades. I left the scoreboard with an accomplished smile on my face. Even my classmates were surprised. They each took turns congratulating me and for the first time in a while, I wasn't scared when the principal called me into his office.

He advised me to keep it up, and if I wish to, he'll have me join the seniors writing their SATs next year. I nodded and agreed.

What I'd forgotten, however, was that my some of my seniors included George Orwell and a couple of guys I'd had random sex with. The classes were terribly awkward. But, then again, they were some of the reasons I was a screw up. I remember when they cornered me and asked for a quickie. The question was repulsive and I almost laughed immediately, seeing as a month or so ago, I'd say yes  in a heartbeat. Then they walked off, saying something along the lines of 'better catch 'em when they're young', or so I heard.

I kept my phone close, and my books closer. All attempts to reach home proved futile. Liberty never picked up my calls. I knew I had hurt her and disappointed her as an older sister. Nobody else was to be blamed, but myself. And when I wasn't leaving her ten voicemails, I was reading my ass off. All I needed was one last thing to make them proud of me for.

And maybe, just maybe, I would get my chance at redemption.

******

This chapter sucks balls, but writer's block is a beautiful bitch whom I have come to love and hate.

Anyway,

Please vote, comment and share.

Love,
AJ.

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