It happened when I was fourteen--two years ago. It was my freshman year, but it felt like I had been here forever. I was waiting at the bus stop after having a terrible day. I wasn't exactly having what you'd call highschool nirvana.
I had spilled strawberries on my new white jeans, and Korina made sure to point that out to anyone and everyone who would listen. So pretty much everyone.
Korina Douglas. The Wicked Witch of the West. Darth Vader. The White Witch. Ebenezer Scrooge. Rumplestiltskin. Lord Voldemort. Adolf Hitler. You know, the bad guy.
Korina used to be my friend. I'm the only one here, except both of our parents that knows her secret. She used to be quite unpopular. In fact, it used to be that next to her, I was cool. We previously lived in Pennsylvania. Korina had big, ugly, old glasses, braces, and pigtails-your classic nerd. I was literally her only friend. Both of our dads worked at the same company, and their job got moved to the same place-Virginia.
We moved at the end of 7th grade. I didn't see her again until 8th started at our new school, Sherman-Polk Middle. I sure got a surprise. She had bought contacts, her braces had come out, and the pigtails had come down. Ever since then she's been too "cool" to hang out with me.
I remember vividly the day I realized what a backstabbing witch she was. It was the March of the 8th grade. Even though she had stopped hanging out with me, she knew me, and she saw the way I looked at Leonard Smyth.
He was smiling down at me, complimentiing me on the poem I put in the newspaper,"Leo Myhst." Incidentally, Myhst is an anagram for Smyth. It's about a boy that seems oblivious to my undying love for him, the boy in question being "Leo Myhst."
"Hey, Gynnifer. I liked your poem."
"Thanks," I replied, heat rising up my neck.
"It was pr--"he stooped in mid-sentence, faltering as his brown eyes became unfocused. He was staring blankly at something over my shoulder.
I spun around, and there was Korina, waving her fingers innocently.
"Hi Leo," she said slowly and deliberately. The way she said it reminded me of the evil women in the soap operas, saying their victim's name like so, before ensnaring him in her twisted affairs.
She winked with her enticing green eyes. Her smile was ful of mischief. Such a grin draws you in. It makes you curious. Korina Douglas was wearing the smile that"killed the cat."
She thin flipped her long, shiny, black hair and walked away, swithching her hips, ever alluring him.
Surely he wouldn't fall for such obvious seduction?
As if in answer to my question, he started to follow her, then stopped and blushed when he saw me roll my eyes.
I tried to restart the conversation, but the bell rang, leaving me crestfallen.
Anyway, I was waiting at the bus stop. I was alone because I had missed the first bus, which was the one that everyone else got on.
The wind puppeteered my many red curls. I closed my eyes and listened to birds, to nature.
All of a sudden, someone grabbed me from behind and started dragging me backwards.
I had spilled strawberries on my new white jeans, and Korina made sure to point that out to anyone and everyone who would listen. So pretty much everyone.
Korina Douglas. The Wicked Witch of the West. Darth Vader. The White Witch. Ebenezer Scrooge. Rumplestiltskin. Lord Voldemort. Adolf Hitler. You know, the bad guy.
Korina used to be my friend. I'm the only one here, except both of our parents that knows her secret. She used to be quite unpopular. In fact, it used to be that next to her, I was cool. We previously lived in Pennsylvania. Korina had big, ugly, old glasses, braces, and pigtails-your classic nerd. I was literally her only friend. Both of our dads worked at the same company, and their job got moved to the same place-Virginia.
We moved at the end of 7th grade. I didn't see her again until 8th started at our new school, Sherman-Polk Middle. I sure got a surprise. She had bought contacts, her braces had come out, and the pigtails had come down. Ever since then she's been too "cool" to hang out with me.
I remember vividly the day I realized what a backstabbing witch she was. It was the March of the 8th grade. Even though she had stopped hanging out with me, she knew me, and she saw the way I looked at Leonard Smyth.
He was smiling down at me, complimentiing me on the poem I put in the newspaper,"Leo Myhst." Incidentally, Myhst is an anagram for Smyth. It's about a boy that seems oblivious to my undying love for him, the boy in question being "Leo Myhst."
"Hey, Gynnifer. I liked your poem."
"Thanks," I replied, heat rising up my neck.
"It was pr--"he stooped in mid-sentence, faltering as his brown eyes became unfocused. He was staring blankly at something over my shoulder.
I spun around, and there was Korina, waving her fingers innocently.
"Hi Leo," she said slowly and deliberately. The way she said it reminded me of the evil women in the soap operas, saying their victim's name like so, before ensnaring him in her twisted affairs.
She winked with her enticing green eyes. Her smile was ful of mischief. Such a grin draws you in. It makes you curious. Korina Douglas was wearing the smile that"killed the cat."
She thin flipped her long, shiny, black hair and walked away, swithching her hips, ever alluring him.
Surely he wouldn't fall for such obvious seduction?
As if in answer to my question, he started to follow her, then stopped and blushed when he saw me roll my eyes.
I tried to restart the conversation, but the bell rang, leaving me crestfallen.
Anyway, I was waiting at the bus stop. I was alone because I had missed the first bus, which was the one that everyone else got on.
The wind puppeteered my many red curls. I closed my eyes and listened to birds, to nature.
All of a sudden, someone grabbed me from behind and started dragging me backwards.