Walking the halls was unbearable, hearing the whispers and seeing the judgmental stares. I didn’t do anything wrong to these people. I just wasn’t one of them.
I had short brown hair that wasn’t styled in the hippest trends. My clothes weren’t designer from the latest designer. My car wasn’t the latest model or in perfect shape, but it got me from point a to point b. I wasn’t skinny; I had a small belly and was considered overweight by America’s standards. I had a round face and hair on my arms. If you looked close enough to my face you would even see peach fuzz, which made me self-conscious.
But I didn’t do anything wrong to deserve this kind of treatment. I was nice to everyone and helped out as much as I could. I tried to treat everyone with the same respect I would want to be treated with. Sadly, these people just wanted to torture me. They wanted to see me fail. I didn’t know how much more I could handle this. And then it happened. But before we get into that, I must tell you exactly what happened.
The day started off like any other normal day. It was a Monday, which meant it would be a long day of ridicule and torture. Something I should be used to by now, but somehow it still surprised me every day I walked those halls. I slowly get ready for the day with my normal routine. A nice hot shower, getting dressed, doing my hair and makeup, brushing my teeth, breakfast, then head to school. Nothing out of the ordinary.
I arrive at school at the same time as always. I park as close to the school as possible, avoiding the "popular" parking area, and fast walking into the entryway. Today, I opted for my baggy hoodie so I could hide my face and the disgruntled looks. Unfortunately, that didn’t even work.
I just made it to my locker when I feel someone tug my hoodie off the top of my head. Of course it was Helen Meyers, the most popular and richest girl in school. She laughs at me and points, which everyone else started doing. The entire hall barks in an uproar of laughter and finger pointing. I hide in my locker and take a deep breath, reminding myself that this school year was almost over.
I slam my locker shut and head straight for first period. I sit far in the back corner avoiding everyone in the room. The teacher takes attendance before jumping into today’s lesson. I’m trying to focus on the lesson when Jordan Jameson turns to me and smiles. Jordan is the most popular guy in school. He’s also the hottest and the captain of the football and basketball team. He has never paid attention to me before, so why now? I ignore him as much as I can before finally asking him what he wanted.
“You” was all he replied before turning back around. The vaguest answer ever and that was it. My mind started racing about a million miles per minute. Jordan has never looked my way before, so something was up. It had to be a prank or something. There was no way he was interested in me.
After class, I hurry to my next period, avoiding everyone in the halls, bobbing and weaving in and out of people standing around whispering. I make it to econ just in time, claiming my seat in the back corner like in all my classes. This class I have with both Jordan and Helen, not my favorite class and not with my favorite people. They claim the two seats in front of me. As Jordan claims his seat, he stares at me again. I can feel his eyes burning a hole through my skull and I can feel Helen’s eyes burning a hole through the side of my head.
I continue to ignore them both and mind my own business before Helen opens her mouth.
“Are you going to ignore us? Are you not wondering why we are staring at you?” she asks with a snobby tone.
I look up, and I can instantly regret that decision, but it was too late. “What?” I ask.
“What are you doing tonight?” Jordan asks, a little too cheerfully.
“Homework,” I reply
“Well, that sounds boring and lame. Just like you. No wonder you have no friends. No boyfriend. No girlfriend. No anything,” Helen states.
“Don’t be rude, Hel. This is our senior year. Let’s make it a great one,” Jordan says.
“Yeah, right. So glad this semester is almost over so I don’t have to look at her ratchet face anymore,” Helen says with a disgusted look on her face.
Jordan continues to argue with Helen, something about she needs to be nicer to other people, and that’s when I let it slip, “So do you.” I instantly regret it, but I can’t take it back. It is already out there and they both heard it. I look up to both of them and half the class staring at me.
“You’re right. I have been a complete jerk to you for as long as I can remember. I am terribly sorry, which is why I want to invite you to my party tonight. It’s a pool party so wear a suit. And I am not taking no for an answer. See you tonight,” he says before turning around.
I get the most unsettling feeling in the pit of my stomach. I don’t want to go to this party with these people. The last time I tried socializing with them, I was humiliated. Helen and her goons had tripped me at the park and I fell into Stacey Anderson’s birthday cake. That made for an unsettling picture on the internet. And that’s when all of the torture began. I instantly became everyone’s go-to target. My parents always try to tell me that it’s to make them feel better about themselves, but they’re all gorgeous and rich, so I’m not sure how much better than can feel.
I wasn’t going to that party. I don’t care what they said or did; I wasn’t going to put myself through that kind of humiliation.