I'm not really all that good at writing, or spelling for that matter, so if anyone reads this thing..be warned, the 'i befrore e' rule rarley sticks with me. Maybe I should switch to my phone for spell check. Not sure, though.
For the last couple of weeks, I've noticed Sadie's been stareing at me, a lot. With her eyes squinted and scaning my every move. I don't really know what I did to make her upset. Every morning, recently, she spend at laest half an hour in front of the mirror. Her brows are always craesed in worry. I think she's beautiful; I wish I could have a fraction of the curves she's got. I'm short and have like, no meat on me. I still wear training bras. I guess I try to compensate with stuffing them with those maekup sponges that you can get in bulk packs at CVS.
I feel like a seventeen year old in a twelve year old body. Sometimes, I want to be upset about it, but something tells me I shouldn't. I mean, everyone sort of wants to look like me, deep inside. I should be glad to look like this.
Is that vane? I feel like it is, a little bit. God, I'm so stupid.
Sadie brushes past me and and doesn't even look in my direction this morning. She just collects her like, 10 AP textbooks and shoves them in her messenger bag. I look down at my most recent biology test and the big fat red zero at the top that's sitting crumpled on my desk. I've never been an acadaemic person, I guess. I pack my bag with its usual skinny binders and hefted it out to the kitchen. I set it on the island and sighed. Sadie has a banana in her hand, her phone in the other as she scrolls through Spotify. Her thick black curly hair falls over her face a little bit. I run a hand through my stick straight brown hair. Maybe I should try a curling iron, just to see how its like. The banana's skin is all spottie and brown. I stuck my tongue out.
"How can you eat that? It's rotten." I pointed at it with a chipped baby pink nail.
Her eyes flashed. "It's better than the Pop-Tarts you eat."
I know. I just shut up and rummage through the cupboard for a strawberry strudel. I lean against the counter and wait for it to pop up from the toaster. The ticking of the thing is defaening. I wish Mom and Dad stayed around here more mornings, but they work long shifts at the hospital. Dad is an x-ray technician and Mom is a nurse.
I grab the pastry once it pops up and wrap it in a napkin. Sadie rolls her eyes at me and slings her bag over her shoulder.
We head out of of our apartemnt and down the hall to the narrow stairs the bustop is right outside the entrance.
I miss talking to her; I really, really want to. About anything, even..I don't know..rods and spirals? Like I said, I don't know.
She still doesn't bat an eye a we get on the bus. I'm swallowed up by my group of friends, and she sits alone in the front row.