It takes a lot to accept yourself. This is a story about a girl named Angelina who went through a lot because of the way she looked. She got death threats from her classmates at her high school. She got pushed down and kicked into the dirt. It seeme...
Disclaimer: None of the art used belongs to me. I couldn't find the artists who created the work above, in the reading, or on the cover. If you come across the artists, please comment them. Enjoy! <3
I had never been more excited to go to school in my life.
I didn't know why at the time, but those girls gave me a good feeling. That sounded lame, but I'd never had any real friends before, and the thought that I could one, much less a group of four other girls, was crazy.
As soon as my alarm rang at 6:30 I jumped out of bed, showered, and got dressed. At breakfast time, I ran downstairs and ate my cereal in about thirty seconds.
Before my mom could say "Bye," I sprinted into the garage where my sister, Brizzy, was waiting for me.
"Yo," she said when I got into her car.
"Hey," I replied back. She started the car as slowly as she possibly could. "Could you go any slower?"
"Yes," she snapped and started doing everything even slower.
"Brizzy!"
"Look," she said. "I know somethin's up, Angelina. Lately, you've been acting so happy all the time. Of course I want'chu to be happy, Angie." She sometimes called me Angie for short. "But I just wanna know what's up."
I didn't respond for a while. We'd already gotten halfway there before I did.
"I made some friends," I quietly said.
She looked at me like I was crazy. Of course she did. Brizzy had always been the "cool girl" at school. She had tons of friends. Everyone loved her. She even looked cool. Brizzy had braids, some of which were dyed orange. She wore an orange leather jacket every day to MacDoric High, paired with black leather jeans. All I had was poofy
"What? This the firs' time you ever gotta friend?"
This time, I didn't answer. Even when we got out of the car.
I had twenty minutes to spare before the bell rang. Only Maryam was in the courtyard.
"Hey," I said as I approached. She looked much more put together today. She stood proud and tall and like she wanted to be at school.
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She wore makeup, which made her look a bit different than she did yesterday. She wore a brown hijab and a jean jacket paired with leggings. "Hey," she replied.
"What up?" I asked.
"Oh...Nothing..." She looked down at her binder that she was holding. "Just studying for our beginning-of-year tests."
"But I thought we were supposed to fail those!"
"Yeah, kind of, but my dad doesn't want me to. He says the higher I make at the beginning, the better grade I have to make at the end of the year." She smiled. "He's basically forcing me to do better."
"Why the smile, then?" I would never want to be forced to do amazing at everything.
"Because," she sighed. "I love school."
"What?" I gasped. "You love school?"
"Yep. I really do. I love learning and school and everything. I don't mind that my dad is forcing me to work hard, I love doing it!"
I was wowed. No one I knew of in New Orleans liked school or working hard. I was smart, but I didn't like school.
"Anyway," she said. "Look, here comes Blue, Laura, and Song. We should probably study."
Honestly, I didn't want to study, and I figured that Laura, Blue, and Song didn't either.
All five of us sat down and started talking about what we did last night. Blue and I didn't do anything, Song had a gig (she sang in a band. I know. It's ironic--her name was Song), Laura had a job babysitting and Maryam hosted a party.
We were interrupted when the bell rang and we had to go to first period.
