Confessions of An Innocent Bystander Part 1

(i'll do untitled next time b/c at the while im having writers bloc, enjoy this short story for now)



Confessions of An Innocent Bystander

OK, it's no joke I'm not attractive. I'm not one of those girls you read in books who are extremely unpopular and say they're not good-looking or whatever, but leave out the fact that they probably have really nice teeth or have nice legs are have a cute voice or whatever.

And I'm not one of those girls in those kinds of books who has a crush on the really popular guy who likes her after she magically transforms herself or whatever, and turns out to be crushed because of course the popular guy who has everything always is a snob on the inside, and I'm not one of those girls who after being crushed to the deepest extent in front of usually everyone in extreme humiliation suddenly find out that her life long best friend that is a dude is totally awesome now and has had a crush on her since the day they met, or whatever.

I'm just not like that. Why? 1)-I'm very unattractive, 2) I may be failing every single class but I'm smart enough not to fall for a popular dude, even if we all know he's a total sweetie, and 3) I have no friends except my doggie, Cat. Who cannot have a crush on me since the day we met because Cat is a girl and has more appeal than me in men and has like two bulldogs and one scrawny Chihuahua that come scratching on our screen door like everyday.

Let me begin my pessimistically rant about my appearance, starting from my big head to my even bigger toes.

My eyes are really tiny, but no one can see them anyways because it's hidden behind really big eyelashes. My eyebrows, more like eyeBROW, stands alone, a one single piece of greasy rug on my head.

My nose is the only thing ok with me, I guess, because it's normal size. But my lips are like so huge, they can practically battle it out with Angelina Jolie's. I have countless freckles sprinkled over my cheeks, which I really don't like.

I have really big sticky-outy ears, and my hair is also kind of ok; it's brown and shoulder-length and kind of straight, but really greasy and stuff and has really long bangs so my forehead has like a lot of pimples. I'm also flat as a board. I'm not like one of those flat people who have just little bumps, I have nothing. At all. I can't even wear a bra, I have nothing.

I have big shoulders too, which don't match with my really boney arms and hands. I'm not fat, but you can't say I'm skinny or even medium. I still have a little baby fat in my stomach, so you can just say I'm a chubba.

I have big legs that, although they are tanned in this nice way, are only tanned on the front, but in the back my legs are as white as paper. I have even bigger feet and even bigger toes, and the only pairs of shoes I have are a pair of flats and a dusty pair of Mary Jane's. (and one pair of dirty socks that seem to never be cleaned)

So you can see my point. As I said before, I have no friends except Cat, who is actually a dog, who is actually too busy hanging out with her male harem than to hang out with me.

As you know, dogs aren't allowed in a high school, so I generally don't have any friends. Teachers aren't even simpathetic, I only get on average C's. Except in PE, which has been a D since second grade.

My school IS semi-interesting, just not if you're me, because you're not involved in anything. I have some sort of dignity within me, I don't eat in the bathroom or the library or on the football stands. I just sit on a curb that holds a dead tree with rotten fruit barely hanging on it, which occasionally falls on my lunch or my hair or my pants. It's in the front of the door where people enter, so no one really bothers to stop or talk to me unless they want to be stampeded. It's also kind of loud and noisy, which is great because I love blocking it out. I don't like silence, because then I get frustrated and start talking and doing dumb stuff or whatever.

I'm just an innocent bystander in things. Like, those people in Hulk, who own these awesome trucks or SUV's or Camries, who get their beautiful cars crushed and thrown and stepped on by Hulk. And no one ever cares, they just look at Hulk. I mean, no one stops to think about poor random car guy, who is currently sobbing about his ruined car which probably was given to him by his dad for his 16th b-day, or whatever.

But unlike them, I don't own a car, I'm only 14. And unlike them, my dad will never give me a car anyways, or my mom. Maybe something useless like a night light, or a box of post-it's, but no, never anything I like.

I see cool things daily, like how Jenny Alvarez got angry at Lana Calabrieri for some reason once and started throwing spagetti and hot dogs at her. I liked Lana, but she was just about to walk out so she was next to me, and when she was hit by spagetti it hit my favorite baby blue T-shirt, and my pants smelled like meatballs long after that. But no one cares, because I'm just an innocent bystander.

There is NO such thing as a mean popular girl in this school. There are only mean boy-crazy girls here in this school. My school is a total cliche, I know I am.

But today was kinda cool. I was eating lunch, trying to get a squishy apple out of my pleated skirt, and it was in the middle of lunch where not many people get in or out of the doorways. It was a quiet and peaceful lunch, so my leg was twitching up and down from self-restraint.

As I said before, I don't do quiet.

But as if on a stage play, this red-headed girl I think was named Carrie or Mary or Berry or something like that came up to me and handed my this ticket slip thing.

"Hi Popina!" She said brightly. That's another thing. My name. Popina. The ugliest name EVER.

I smile this crooked smile because I don't really smile all that much and I think I forgot how to.

She handed me this slip thing and I grabbed it, but for some reason she wouldn't let go. She gripped my hand really hard and I got the point she didn't want me to move. She shoved my hand away and held it out again. "Here, Poppy!"

I finally clamped my hand on it skeptically and as soon as I did that the doors burst open and she finally let go, and then there was this really angry looking girl with short brown hair who looked like she was gonna bust a vein.

I think her name was Eva, or something but she practically screamed and marched at us, and started to shout and scream something in Mexican I couldn't understand. Which is a bad thing, because I take Spanish class and that's the only class I practically ace here.

But then Carrie, Berry, or Mary sat next to me and put her arm around my shoulder, making my glasses sort of slip halfway down my face.

"Popina's coming with me now. So, too bad!"

And then Eva or something started to scream and shout even more, and actually went up to me and started poking my flat chest really hard. I could understand a bit, but obviously Spanish class doesn't teach us how to say bad words, which I think she did say.

And then Carrie like, stood and pulled me up, and practically ran out the door with me so fast and so hard that she made the dead tree tremble and drop a rotten apple on Eva's shoes.

I think Carrie is in track or something, because iin a flash we were under the football bleachers, and she wasn't even breathing hard. But my hair is like, friction-y, so my hair was all static-ish and stood up and stuff.

Carrie turned her head to look out the bleachers to see if Eva was coming or not, and I took that time to go check out the tiket slip thing. It was some ticket to some band I kind of like, called something like The Angry Girl Band.

I sneezed kind of loudly and then she turned to look at me in this really eye-twitching way. "Those are tickets to The Angry Girl Band concert this Friday." It was Tuesday.

I smiled my really crooked smile but I guess she thought that that wasn't a good enough response, because then she said, "You know, The Angry Girl Band. Haven't you ever heard of Crystal Clear Beers?"

I nodded. Everyone in my town that has a good musical taste has listened to Crystal Clear Beers by The Angry Girl Band. They even play it in the Barber Shop. You know, Crystal Clear Beers, there ain't nothing here, go play with your toys, you won't get any boys... "Yes, I've heard of it. I love the new song, Rocker Girls."

She nodded, smiling, before singing in this really nice way, "I'm that rocker girl, lookin' at you through my rocker gear, seein' all trouble but won't make me tear..."

I nodded too and we both started singing it for the rest of the lunch period, which was really nice, having something to do. After all, not much noise goes around under some empty bleachers.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

I think I've had more fun with Carrie (checked!) than I've ever had in my whole life. I mean, I don't know why she chose me to come to, or why she dissed her best friend Ava (again, checked) but she says that Ava was always bossing her around and stuff and it made her lose her boyfriend Taylor whom she spent a lot of money on on trying to get them tickets for The Angry Girl Band, and she says that Ava probably was jealous and wanted to go to The Angry Girl Band instead, so for revenge she chose me to go with.

Sure, I was kind of hurt that I was just a baseball to throw at Ava's window, but I had a friend, that had tickets to the Angry Girl Band, and is really pretty and nice and smart and athletic and funny.

"Popina..." She said testily in Study Hall, looking at me in this disapproving way. "You seriously need a makeover."

I smiled weakly before pushing up my glasses. "What makes you say that?" Even though it was pretty obvious what was wrong with me. Carrie smiled and said, "My mum owns a spa. WE can go there, sometimes."

I smiled and said my thanks.

Yes, I so totally know this is a cliche. And I know that this feels like a dream because it's so unrealistic. It might even be one. But for now, I'm enjoying myself.

R&C PEOPLE!!!