The next morning before school I'm looking into the mirror at myself, wondering if just one more swipe of mascara will make it appear as if I actually got some sleep last night. My hazel eyes are much squintier than usual and remmed in red, which is going to let one certain little boy know that I wasn't quite as fine as I'd told him in that text. I can't have him knowing that I was upset--I just can't. I have to act strong and as if last night with my parents, with what he saw, didn't affect me like it actually did.

I put in a little more effort on my hair this morning, though I'm sure no one will notice, and now the dark brown curls are just a bit more pronounced and not quite as frizzy. But the puffy eyes and the red, blotchy cheeks are such dead giveaways that I just know Lucas are going to notice. There's no way that even my head of thick, obnoxious curls are going to hide them.

After putting one more useless swipe of mascara onto my eyelashes, I put all of my makeup away and then head down the hallway, back into my bedroom. Knowing that I'll have to wear something a little more put together than my usual attire of band T-shirts and jeans, I open the door to my closet and get to searching.

Ten minutes later I'm dressed in the best I can do: some skinny jeans and a loose T-shirt that bares one of my shoulders. The shoes are a lost cause, though, seeing as how I don't own anything but Converse sneakers and flip flops. I end up just slipping on the nicest pair of flip flops I own and then head on down to the kitchen, knowing that I'll have to hurry because I cannot be late for first period.

I don't hear either of my parents in the house and when I look outside to check, I don't either of their cars. Letting out a loud breath of relief, I head back into the kitchen and then pour myself a huge bowl of my breakfast obsession: fruit loops. Once I'm done I look over at the clock on the stove and curse underneath my breath when I see that I have just under fifteen minutes to get into my desk in English.

I hurry to my room, grab my things and then start racing down the sidewalk towards the school.

Luckily I don't even live a mile from the school, so after jogging the entire way there, I make it into the school hallways with five minutes to spare. As I walk throughout the crowded hallways, I start to feel as if more people than normal--which is zero, by the way--are looking at me. I look away from the ground beneath my silver flip flops and my eyes widen when I realize I've gained the attention of two guys on the basketball team.

Immediately feeling uncomfortable because of the abnormal attention, I jerk my eyes away from the two guys I've only ever spoken to because of partner assignments in class and make sure to hide my red cheeks with my hair. Wondering what the hell has gotten into their morning cherrios to make them look at me like they look at the cheerleaders, I stop in front of my locker and then hurrily grab my books.

I slip through the door of my first class of the day right as the tardy bell rings which causes me to let out a huge, obnoxious breath of relief. A few of the people who saw me giggle a bit but since my cheeks were already red because of those two pervert jocks in the hall, they can't tell that I'm embarrassed by their laughter. Grabbing onto my book sack just a bit tighter, I ignore them and head towards my desk.

Something inside of me is already starting to tell me that today's just not going to be a good day.


The minute that I step inside of my sixth hour Calculus class, I feel someone's eyes land on me. Rolling my eyes because I've honestly grown so tired of the curious, somewhat surprised looks by my just slightly appearance today, I keep my eyes locked on my desk until I'm good and seated. But it's when I look up and see that it was Lucas who was looking at me, I feel something inside of me warm up in anger.