I'm not happy. I have never been happy. I am either too fat or too skinny. I am either completely stupid or absurdly smart. I'm the opposite of perfect. I have never been asked out, which is pitiful considering I just turned eighteen. I shouldn't get my hopes up. I'll never find the "perfect" guy. They simply don't exist. True love is a myth. Sure, I have crushes. What girl doesn't?
What people don't realize about girls is that we're all just alike. We all have the same insecurities. Our pants make us look fat. We don't have big enough boobs. Our butts are too big. Our butts are too small. What trying to say is, there is a stereotype, and none of us fit it. No one on the planet fits a stereotype perfectly. Me especially.
Stereotypes are the worst thing that ever happened to society. We all expect these things from the people we like. We expect the perfect personality, the perfect body, for them to be the smartest person on the planet. Then, when we see the imperfections, we lose interest. That's how it is for crushes. You can like this guy and think he is the one you will spend the rest of your life with. Then you see then for who they really are, a real person.
I liked this guy once. Tom Commers was the hottest guy I had ever seen. Freshmen year was a strange year. I eventually found out that he was not only a player, but he also had a kid at fifteen. I think I dodged a bullet. I couldn't have had a child with the same genetics as me.
"Ms, Rogers! Why aren't you writing chapters 2, 3, and 4 down in your notes? Why haven't written any notes? Are your grades not the most important thing in your life? You must complete the tasks in front of you before I fail you." I'm startled out of my daydream. Mr. Coleson is the definition of an uptight teacher who can't be told anything. He was here when my mom went to school here. She was valedictorian and expects nothings less from me.
"I will set you up with a tutor to improve your grade. Your mother has requested that I help you as best I can, and she was one of my favorite students." He says with an evil grin that could burn through anything between him and love. "You can study with Ascot Rose. He is good with his language." I look at Ascot. He looks at me like he's never met me. I've been in the same school with him since 7th grade, how does he not recognize me?
"Ascot you can discuss the details of your study session with Lena after class." Ascot looks in my direction and nods in acknowledgment. He turns back around in his seat like he didn't even get called out. How can he ignore me like that?
I don't know whether I should be insulted or honored.