Maybe Just One More

Chapter 4. Slut

The hallway was crowded, full of kids. Some of the boys stared as I made my way down the hall. It was strange, but it made me smile. I made it to my new locker for the year. I unloaded my duffel bag placing things in the locker.

"Stormie?"

Peyton was standing behind me. She was staring at me with wide eyes.

"Hey," I said and smiled. "How was your summer?"

"Apparently, not as interesting as yours," she said and chuckled. "You look great."

"Thanks," I said and smiled. "It wasn't all that interesting, though. Where is Jade?"

"She won't be here today. The family camping trip is running late or something," Peyton explained. Peyton looped her arm in with mine. "What is your first class?"

"Algebra two with Coleson," I told her.

"Damn, mine is History with Trisoni," she muttered.

A laugh escaped me. "Maybe, I'll see you later then."

"Okay, see you," she said and walked off.

I turned to go into class and bumped into somebody. "Sorry–" I stopped when I caught a pair of familiar brown eyes.

"Stormie?" Chris raised his eyebrows and his gaze swept over my body. His brown hair fell over his eyes. He ran his hand through his hair.

"Hi," I said.

"Um, wow. Makeover?" he swallowed hard, and his gaze flickered back to mine.

"Oh, yeah. It was Claire's idea," I said and shrugged. "Like it?"

"Like it?" Chris raised his eyebrows. He rubbed the back of his neck. "You look good. It's just weird, though. I mean, it's not... you."

I pursed my lips and looked away. I felt instantly irritated by the way he said it. "Well, it is me. It's just a fucking haircut and some makeup. I'm a girl. I'm allowed to look nice. Okay?" I snapped. I turned around and stormed down the hallway. Today is going to be hell.

***

By the time lunch rolled around, I was ready to go home. I even considered ditching. I was so angry that all I could think about was how I would get twenty bucks to buy some weed from Avery.

As Peyton and I walked across the schoolyard, I felt eyes on me and heard a few whistles. I ignored the looks I received.

"Do I really look that different?" I murmured to Peyton.

"Well, sort of. I mean, you always wore baggy clothes and never cut your hair. You had glasses and braces. The last time anyone saw you, you looked thirteen, and now you look like you could pass for a senior. I think you filled out more, too," she said and chuckled. "From last school year to this one, you did like a complete one-eighty."

I sighed and sat down on a picnic table. "I feel like me, apart from the clothes and makeup. I just never cared for dressing up. I want to go home."

She nodded in understanding. "Is it that bad? Who cares if guys are looking," she said and chuckled. "At least they think you're pretty enough to look at."

"I want people to like me for me," I said. "Nobody does, though."

"Am I chopped liver?" she asked.

I laughed and bumped my shoulder to hers. "Of course not, you're great. I think I'm going to go find Avery. I have to ask him something."

"Good luck," Peyton said. "I heard he went home."

"Really?" I arched a brow. "Why?"

"I don't know," she said and shrugged.