8th Grader grows a brain

8th grade is the year where we are invisible. No one who isn't one of us cares what we do or who we are. Our teachers know this year is a waste of their time. You can feel their distance, smell their disdain, hear it in the way they speak to us. They're just waiting. Waiting it out. Waiting for us to be older. Waiting for us to grow a brain.

And I gotta say I'm pretty much waiting for that to happen too.
Because here comes Steph with her gang of short skirts and long hair, thin, tanned and immaculate. And of course, you guessed it, my besties
Not. Today they're all wearing black tights. What's left of them anyway. They've been pawing each other all day, ripping holes and created skin stripes up and down their legs.