It Works Out - Short Story

Short Story

I walked calmly down the crowded school hallway. The groups and people parted slowly as I passed through. Almost instantly, a few taunts and chants started, just as they occasionally did. I didn't care though, since I was used to the bullying that was directed towards me.

I sometimes wondered why I was such a misfit among my peers. Maybe it was because of the worn band t-shirts that I wore so often, or the skinny jeans which I always paired with my old pair of regular black converse, which I had worn so much that they were literally falling apart.

I also occasionally wondered what it was like to be "popular", to be invited to wild parties, date the cutest and most wanted boys in the grade, to be accepted by your peers. I've never really been accepted in school, never been at the top of the social ladder. Actually, I remember in grade eight, how I was popular that year, along with my best friend. Zoe and I had been friends since we became next-door neighbors, when we were four, more than thirteen years ago. Grade eight was a wild year for both of us. First kisses, parties, boyfriends, and drama filled our school year. But over the summer, things changed. I started dressing differently, and replaced all my cropped tops and shorts with band tees and skinny jeans. I stopped being as outgoing as before, and I stopped wearing makeup and caring about what other people thought about me. I was tired of having to wake up every school day, and worry about how I had to look to impress all of my so-called "friends".

On our first day of grade nine, I wore a comfy t-shirt of one of my favorite bands, Mayday Parade, along with my blue ripped jeans, and converse. Zoe, on the other hand, wore clothes very different from mine. She was dressed in a beautiful flowery crop top, which showed off her stomach, and newly pierced belly button. She had paired her top with white high waisted shorts, which made all the guys ogle her. Zoe had gotten stunningly beautiful over the summer and had a perfect tan from spending her break at her family's beach house in sunny California. When she had looked at me, with her mascara coated eyelashes, she just rolled her eyes and whispered to a girl standing beside her, who was similarly dressed. She was probably her new best friend. My stomach dropped when I saw this, nothing was supposed to change, right? Just my clothes were a difference, really. But my fears were confirmed when I saw all my past friends point at me and laugh, and some just stared at me with wide, shocked eyes, wondering why I had "changed".

The entire day, I followed Zoe and her group around at school, trying to get her attention, and figure out why she wasn't talking to me. At the end of the day, I asked her if she wanted to get together after school, but she just flipped her perfectly straightened hair and said: "I knew you changed, but really? You look so weird and different..." she trailed off, "look, just don't talk to me or anyone of my friends again, Amy." Her group snickered and made a few snide comments about my appearance, and strolled off, leaving me alone, in the dust.

I cried in my room that night, wondering why I had just been rejected by my best friend. Then I realized that Zoe only cared about my appearance, and my reputation, not my personality. That's when I decided to shed no more tears and learn from the situation. So I stopped having friends, but I liked it, because now I had more time for myself, and to focus on the things that made me happy, like writing. I always had a passion for writing and drawing, sometimes drawing illustrations to match my written pieces. I had particularly started to write in a journal in grade nine, and I wanted to write in the school newspaper as well, but I hadn't joined it because I didn't want to be seen as a nerd. Now I had decided that since I didn't have to keep up with an image, I could do whatever I wanted to, so I did just that. I focused more on my grades and my writing, joined the school newspaper and started drawing pictures and hanging them in her room. I ended up creating and image for myself, instead of having to fit into one made by other people. I also made new friends, who truly cared for me, and loved me no matter what I looked like on the outside! I was finally happy with my life and who I was.

Now back to reality, I see Zoe, now a completely fake girl, with her "friends", who looked exactly like her; spray tan, excessive amounts of makeup, trashy clothing, and high pitched, unreal voices, walking through the hall. She yells a few taunts at me, but I don't try to hear them, since she isn't a part of my life anymore. Our friendship ended 3 years ago, and I stopped caring about her. Plus, it's our last year of high school, I'm seventeen, finally, and our paths will most likely never meet again after graduation. But as I walk out the school doors to get into my mom's waiting car, I turn around to look at her and smirk, because I know it all works out in the end.