I was alone. Alone in a sea of skinny, size one soon-to-be models. In my school, you were either pretty or you weren't. We were seperated by appearance, not by will, but by sheer ignorance. Of course, there is ignorance everywhere; In the schools, at home, at the store. Everywhere.
I don't know what it was that tempted me to be like everyone else. I never before had the desire to be. I was always the one who hated pink, stood in the corner, and was a much more realistic size five. But then again everything had been upset this year. Not to mention, I was only ten when I tried my first cigarette. They had disgusted me to no end. Needless to say, I never did that again. That had been my early attempts at being "cool" but now I was finding that I had to be skinny, undescribably skinny, to fit in this time.
First period on Monday, Febrary thirteenth was extremely confusing. Between the electrons and the protons, I didn't know which was which. Mr.Jeager kept talking as one by one, his class of previously attentitive students drifted off into their own stupors. In the end, only Arianna was listening, watching Mr. Jeager as thoguh she had nothijng better to do but sit there and listen to him drone on and on about electrons' relationships. As if we cared if electrons were carrying on love triangles with each other. Those protons need to learn to control themselves anyway, haven't they ever heard of STDs?After that though, Second and third periods passed without anything more interesting than Rene silently dozing off in the middle of algebra.
By fifth period however, the day began to pass in a much more managable way. Within a matter of minutes, Mp3 players, ipods and cell phones had been pulled out of backpacks and pockets. Fifth period (creative writing) was the only class in which you could get away with such devices. However, many of the girls in the class had chosen a small area of open floor in the middle of the classroom, turning it into a dance floor like no other. I watched as their bodies swayed to the music. Hips and stomachs moved in time with the rhythm. All I could think was how lucky they were to have such a defined figure, one that you could clearly notice even underneath their baggy,skater jackets.
Soon the day ended, bringing with it the neverending dread of the next time I would sit and listen to my teachers take on subjects they knew nothing about and drone on and on about useless topics that I would proably never use again at any time in my life. Alas, the deprivations of school. I stuffed my language arts book into my cluttered locker, more affectionately know as "The Black Hole." It had gained this nickname only after devouring approximentaly two books, three waterbottles, and a piece of math homework that I had really needed at the time.
Suddenly someone called my name, causing me to drop my binder and a few other things that had been aloof in my hands, waiting fior the moment when they were to be dropped into my locker. I ignored the call and put everything back into the hole from which it came.
"Kati," I heard someone yell," Kati!"
I sigheed and turned around to faced the direction to which I thought I heard the voice. The most horrible scene met my eyes. It was Mollie and her gang of prada divas. They walked as briskly as they could in their brand names clothes and fancy wedge heels that I couldn't wear if the world were about to end. I closed my eyes and parayed silently that they were headed for somebody else. It was only after I looked around to see an empty hall that I realized the truth. They were coming for me.
Joy, I thought to myself as they approached, How am I going to get out of this one.
I continued to look around as they came closer and closer. Thoguhts raced across my mind like memos in a work place.
Would it be too obvious if I ran, I asked myself while weighing the odds, Oh crud.
Too late. I had wasted too much time. The girls stood before me as I glared at them coldly.
"Hi Kati," one on Mollie's right side said cheerfully. I remained silent.
"Now, now, that's not nice," Mollie said, simpering in a way that reminded me of a frog watching a juicy fly.
"Hi," I said, hoping that if I talked I might be able to get out of this one.
"Hello," the girl of her left side said in a nasally voice.
An endless stream of "Hello"s continued for about two more minutes as the conversation stalled like a car out of gas. Finally after a tantalixing moment, Mollie spoke up.
"Well, we were just coming over to say hi and give you this," Mollie said, handing out a ruffled pink invitation, her pinkie sticking out as if that were a sign of eloquence.
I knew from the color that I was not interested. Pink does not like me and I do not like it. It's a mutual disagreement, and one that seperates me from many others.
"Thank you," I said, trying desperatly to keep the sarcasm out of my voice.
Finally, after an awkward moment of silence, the girls left, leaving me with a pink, frilly, invitation, a conversation I will never forget, and the ability to breath again.
The next day-Tuesday- was confusing. The girls began to greet me in the halls, and meanwhile, I still hadn't touched their invitation from the day before. It was beginning to scare me. The niceness and the sudden attraction between them and I was more than scary, it was suspicious. Everyone knew that The prada girls don;t accept ANYONE new to their group. Ever. This was totally against their ethics and that was nervewracking. But before I go into more dramatic happenings, let me explain the prada girls. They are everything you hate in a person, cold, hatful, spiteful, and worst of all, they hold a nasty grudge. But even worse than that, they are everything everyone wants to be, pretty, popular and (again) even worse, they are respected.
I on the other hand am known as a normal person. I wear denim jeans, Prada's wear skirts. I like ponytails, they swear by their curling irons. Ironically, I had never worn a skirt nor touched a curling iron. I had never even worn lip gloss before!
Anyways, back to the drama of high school.
Wednesday and Thurday passed with no problems. But Friday, oh, Friday hit like an Atom bomb.
The day started out normal enough, what with the exchanging of notes in the halls and the constant whispering, everything seemed to be going well. Until she showed up. "She" was Jamy. She was the only person I hated more than the prada girls. She was a wanna be and even even better, a liar.
She stood there, her weight balanced on her left hip. Jamy's eyes looked me up and down for a moment before she finally said with disgust, "So I heard about your new friends,"
I stood there in shock for a moment. How could she have found out? Nobody was around at the time...But of course the prada girls would have said something to someone. They had such big mouths.
"You did," I said uncertainly. I was unsure of where this whole conversation was leading, not to mention just associating with one of her kind was the first ingredient of trouble.
"Mmm Hmm," She grinned, "We had a nice conversation about you and your, well...previous life."
"Previous life," I inquired.
"Surely you didn't think everything was going to stay the same now that you are one of them," She said, putting emphasis on 'them'.
"Um, well, I didn't know that it made a difference," I said, walking away, trying to break free of the conversation. It was getting mroe and more disasterous by the second.
"You might want to think twice about that little brain fart," She said cruelly. It was only after she flipped her hair over her shoulder enoguh to make anybody dizzy, that she walked away. No, correction she strutted away. You see, Jamy has this walk that reminds you of a poorly spayed poodle. With every step that she takes, her legs move father apart and I would pay serious money to see her walk a mile without stopping. It took some extreme control to keep from cracking up laughing as she "Srutted" back down the hall. But before I knew it the bell had rung, signifying the end of the week and the start of the FUN part of my life.
I was ecstatic whne I walked into my living room and found no one there. That meant that I got free reign over the fully stocked refridgerator and the bathroom. As soon as I had double checked the house to make sure that nodoby was hiding somewhere on the other half, I commenced to layoing out a smorgesboard of delectable treats on my kitchen table.
When I was done, the table's red cloth cover couldn't be seen. On it I had stacked two twinkies, five single serve milkshakes, two hamburgers from the night before, a bean burrito, and a large helping of homemade mashed potatoes.
I started slowly, uisng the utensils that I had set on the table previously. But before I had even got halfway throguh the binge, I started shoving things into my mouth with my bare hands, careful not to drop any evidence on the table. And within ten minutes I had eaten my way through everything. I went to the fridge and drank two diet sodas. The carbonation helps everything come up smoother and makes it more satisfying.
The bathroom smelled of bleach and mint toothpaste as I went in and stood over the sink. I grabbed my purple toothbrush and shoved the end down my throat. I felt everything come up; the soda helped. I did that about two times then went in and sat on the end of my bed. I knew that what I was doing wasn't good nor was it healthy but I couldn't stop if I wanted to. Not that I wanted to...
I thought of my parents reactions if they found out what I was doing when I was alone. They probably wouldn't even care. They were never here anyway. My mom was gone almost all day on business trips and such. That wasn't all she did though; I just couldn;t bring myself to tell my dad about her affair. Not that he is ever home for me to tell him. He was sent to Iraq as a civilian worker to help the soldiers. He wasnt paid alot but being home with me all day drove him just about to the brink of insanity. He told me that it wasn't me that drove him crazy but the silence. I know that isn't true.
I just wish it wasn't my fault.
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