makes me just a tiny bit jealous. I swear, every girl in that diner wanted to be in your place."
"Then let them!" I exclaim trying not to let the fact that he was watching me like that get to me. I refuse to feel anything for that boy. He’s too much of an uncertainty in my mind, too much of a possibility of someone who has the capacity of hurting me. "I'm not interested." I say, more to convince myself than Dakota. She, of course, sees right through it.
"Uh-huh. You keep telling yourself that sweetie, we'll see how long you’ll last." I don't reply simply because I'm afraid she's right. Then, she continues, "And you're going to have to talk to him eventually. You can't keep running."
"I'm not running."
"Please, every time he's in the vicinity of you, you look like you're getting ready to run a marathon. I'm not excusing anything he did to you in the past. You know I'd go all kung fu on him in a second if he hurts you again, but you will have to talk to him eventually. For the sake of your best friend's sanity, please just have a normal human conversation with him." She takes her hands of the wheel to turn them to me in a begging gesture and I'm glad we're stopped at a light. She's not exactly the safest of drivers. I don't reply and she continues to pout, making little whiny noises. The light turns green, but she still doesn't move and I hear a honk come from behind us.
"Fine!" I say exasperated when it's evident she's not moving till I agree. "I'll talk to him."
"Sweet!" she squeals, pealing out through the intersection. "I'm so excited."
Not the words I would use.
TWELVE
I could be a morning person. If morning happened around noon. - Author Unknown
SEVENTH GRADE
My whole life came crashing down around me in seventh grade.
Until that horrendous day, I’d actually thought I would be okay. My home life started to resemble a battlefield when it came to my art. Dad frowned down upon my 'tendencies' because they weren't 'preparing me for the real world'. I was twelve years old and Dad was insisting I take extra math and science classes, instead of art. Paige tried her best to help me out, but she was getting ready for her senior year and was barely ever home.
On the other side of my home life was Grayson. Ever since third grade, he'd been a shadow of constant humiliation, which followed me, every day, down school hallways. For a year now, it hadn't been as much about humiliation as it was about making fun of everything I did. I had no idea why he had to constantly bug me the way he did, but I dealt with it. I'd learned to ignore his snippy remarks, if just to get through the day.
Dakota was an awesome support system. She stood up for me when I couldn't put two words together. Even Chance, one of Grayson's friends, was nice to me. I think he was as baffled as I was by Grayson's behavior and tried to make it up to me. Dakota didn't trust him, so he really had to work at it.
On that particular day, I dressed in one of my favorite autumn ensembles. My flowered top was one of the most beloved shirts I'd ever put together. It had an open collar, two small pockets in the front, and half-length sleeves. It flowed around my body when I walked, perfect for Arizona weather. I paired it up with my green pants and brown boots, adding a necklace Dakota and I made from crystal beads during out last sleepover. It was something simple, but beautiful and I felt pretty in my home made clothes. It didn't look much different from what you would buy in a store, but it was all mine and I loved it.
So did Dakota. She squealed over my simple yet elegant outfit, saying I looked 'all grown up'. I didn't see Grayson on our way to homeroom, like I usually did, and for a second I allowed myself to feel a bit sad. I loved looking my best in front of my enemy and today would've been a good day for that.
However, Grayson was at school. He was in my homeroom and my math class to follow. There were no remarks or laughter, but I could
"Then let them!" I exclaim trying not to let the fact that he was watching me like that get to me. I refuse to feel anything for that boy. He’s too much of an uncertainty in my mind, too much of a possibility of someone who has the capacity of hurting me. "I'm not interested." I say, more to convince myself than Dakota. She, of course, sees right through it.
"Uh-huh. You keep telling yourself that sweetie, we'll see how long you’ll last." I don't reply simply because I'm afraid she's right. Then, she continues, "And you're going to have to talk to him eventually. You can't keep running."
"I'm not running."
"Please, every time he's in the vicinity of you, you look like you're getting ready to run a marathon. I'm not excusing anything he did to you in the past. You know I'd go all kung fu on him in a second if he hurts you again, but you will have to talk to him eventually. For the sake of your best friend's sanity, please just have a normal human conversation with him." She takes her hands of the wheel to turn them to me in a begging gesture and I'm glad we're stopped at a light. She's not exactly the safest of drivers. I don't reply and she continues to pout, making little whiny noises. The light turns green, but she still doesn't move and I hear a honk come from behind us.
"Fine!" I say exasperated when it's evident she's not moving till I agree. "I'll talk to him."
"Sweet!" she squeals, pealing out through the intersection. "I'm so excited."
Not the words I would use.
TWELVE
I could be a morning person. If morning happened around noon. - Author Unknown
SEVENTH GRADE
My whole life came crashing down around me in seventh grade.
Until that horrendous day, I’d actually thought I would be okay. My home life started to resemble a battlefield when it came to my art. Dad frowned down upon my 'tendencies' because they weren't 'preparing me for the real world'. I was twelve years old and Dad was insisting I take extra math and science classes, instead of art. Paige tried her best to help me out, but she was getting ready for her senior year and was barely ever home.
On the other side of my home life was Grayson. Ever since third grade, he'd been a shadow of constant humiliation, which followed me, every day, down school hallways. For a year now, it hadn't been as much about humiliation as it was about making fun of everything I did. I had no idea why he had to constantly bug me the way he did, but I dealt with it. I'd learned to ignore his snippy remarks, if just to get through the day.
Dakota was an awesome support system. She stood up for me when I couldn't put two words together. Even Chance, one of Grayson's friends, was nice to me. I think he was as baffled as I was by Grayson's behavior and tried to make it up to me. Dakota didn't trust him, so he really had to work at it.
On that particular day, I dressed in one of my favorite autumn ensembles. My flowered top was one of the most beloved shirts I'd ever put together. It had an open collar, two small pockets in the front, and half-length sleeves. It flowed around my body when I walked, perfect for Arizona weather. I paired it up with my green pants and brown boots, adding a necklace Dakota and I made from crystal beads during out last sleepover. It was something simple, but beautiful and I felt pretty in my home made clothes. It didn't look much different from what you would buy in a store, but it was all mine and I loved it.
So did Dakota. She squealed over my simple yet elegant outfit, saying I looked 'all grown up'. I didn't see Grayson on our way to homeroom, like I usually did, and for a second I allowed myself to feel a bit sad. I loved looking my best in front of my enemy and today would've been a good day for that.
However, Grayson was at school. He was in my homeroom and my math class to follow. There were no remarks or laughter, but I could
Similar Books
