Ivy

1| The Kick-Start

1| The Kick-Start

Every morning, when I get up, I go to the ornate mirror in my bedroom, and pick out all my imperfections. I look at each and every one, so when people comment it doesn't hurt as much. I lie though, it hurts so much more. I've been doing it for a while though, so it's kind of a habit.

I stare at the roll of fat on my stomach, my arms and my thighs. I hate the way they shake, like Jell-o. I'm constantly teased at Gym about this. Next are my eyes. I hate them. They aren't vibrant green like my mom's, or a deep chocolate like my dad's. It's a flat hazel/green. And my hair. Don't even let me start on the rat's nest I call hair.

"Abigail!" my mother yells from the kitchen. I sigh, and make my way down the stairs to have my breakfast. My brother, Jeremy, is there already, stuffing his face with pancakes. Jeremy is quite the opposite of me. So much so, many people don't believe when we say we're siblings.

"Morning Abby," he says, mouth full of food. I make a face as I pull a plate towards me. My mother thinks my insecurities are absolute trash, and insists on feeding me a whole lot.

"Morning champs," my dad says entering the kitchen. He hugs mom, and I quickly finish, wanting be out of here so I wouldn't get left by the bus.

It was ridiculous really, with a family that owns two cars and I had to catch the school bus.

I pull on my usual clothes: a large hoodie and a pair of sweats. They are comfy and hide me well. I pull my hair into a bun that hides that embarrassment, and grab my bag, spotting the bus from my bedroom window.

I skid down the stairs, and slide into my shoes before running out the door. There were one too many times when the bus left me behind.

I enter the bus, and the noise of best friend's gossiping, guys talking about their latest conquest and the nearest test; assail me. I manage to tell the driver a quick Good Morning, before the torture starts.

"Hey look! It's the Michelin mascot!" a jock yells from the front. Everyone starts laughing, and I try to ignore them the best I can.

"Hey! Pillsbury Dough Boy! Go back to your package!" someone else yells. I frown. That doesn't even make sense...

I push my way to the second to last row, desperate for a reprieve. I look up to ask the person to move heir bad from the seat and my voice dies.

It's Jace Carter.

Jace was, in my eyes, the hottest guy in school. He had this golden hair that was so silky and hung so perfectly, every girl was envious of it. His eyes were slate grey, and his physique was just perfect.

I think I looked like a goof standing there for a while, and I got myself when the bus started with a jerk, almost throwing me off my feet.

"Hey," I finally say, holding on to the seat in front, "could you please...move your bag?"

Jace looks up, surprised, and then gives me a smile that send my heart into a frenzy and has my hands sweating like mad. Then his smile gets this cruel twist, and I'm confused.

"Sure," he says, moving it, then he gets up.

"What-?" I say.

"Let me just clear the whole seat for you, just so you can fit," he says sweetly but maliciously at the same time.

My heart stops trying to get out of my chest.

My palms stop sweating waterfalls.

I stop the tears before they can fall as everyone in the bus starts to laugh.

And I thought he was actually going to treat me nicely.

'Stupid! Stupid Abby! Why did you even think that in the first place?' I mentally chide myself as I settle into the seat. I place my bag on the extra seat and lean my head against the window, plugging in my MP3.

When we get to school, I get out last, making sure that no one is there to trip me.

Again.

Inside the halls isn't much better. I see The Clique, the ones who spearheaded the whole Hate the Fat B**** Abigail thing. Well I hate them.

Leading the group are two sisters; Clarisse and Jenine Jacobs. Both being blonde bombshells in skimpy clothes, everyone practically jumps at the chance to be seen with them. They are the ultimate b****es of school. However, in front of their parents, it's a whole different story.

Their parents and my parents are pretty...tight, so if there is any function for anyone who is someone in the business world, they are both there, and, unfortunately, so are the Evil Two, as Jeremy and I dubbed them.

It's a pity, really, because Clarisse has a not so small infatuation with my brother. It just kills her that I'm Jeremy's sister.

"Morning, Marshmallow," Clarisse says, draping her arms around me. I become wary, because she only uses Marshmallow if she's really pissed.

"Yes, Clarisse?" I ask, not really wanting to know.

"You know the function tonight? The fundraiser s***?" she asks, dragging me to my locker.

"Yeah?" I ask.

"Well, I'm going. And I'm not going for those poor riff-raff. I want you to get Jeremy and me together." She says.

"And if I don't?" I ask.

"Let's just say, I'll make your life more of a living hell than it already is."

With that she shoves me--really hard--into my locker, and they walk away laughing. I wince as I got up. You'd think having some extra fat would provide insulation, but nooo....

I get up, like always, and make my way to class.