I never used to be this popular. I had frizzy hair that was neither brown nor blonde, glasses that had one broken lens, braces with food jammed up between the wires, and zits, zits ZITS! In fact, I was more geekular than popular! Until one day, that all changed.
It all started as a normal day, you know, the usual. Math, English, Social Studies, Electives, you know the drill. It droned on and on and on . . . and then it came to the one class I dreaded, gym class.
Today, it also happened to be the worst sport ever that we had to play. Volleyball always was the worst, because the populars always got first pick on teams, and they always did rock-paper-scissors to see who would get the good players and the bad players. I was almost always stuck on the bad-player team.
TWEET! The whistle blared, signifying it was time for the last round of volleyball. The most popular girl, Megan served, and deliberately aimed it at me! She knew how horrible I was at volleyball, so she almost always served to me.
It all happened in matrix-slow-motion as I dashed for the ball (nooooooooo!). I flung my wrists out to catch the ball, yet the never connected. Instead, the ball connected with my forehead, therefore breaking the other lens of my glasses!
The whistle blew again, and the gym teacher hollered, "Take a break girls, we'll try that serve again after free period."
All of the girls walked toward the locker room to do some quick make-up touch-ups, hairspraying, and socializing without boys cutting in. My best friend, Elizabeth, walked over to me, her brush and her hair elastics in hand.
"What was that all about, Katie?" Elizabeth asked.
"Nothing much, really; and please call me Kat!" I retorted.
"Ugh, whatever, Kat," Elizabeth replied.
"As I was saying, that girl, Meagan, she hit me again," I said.
"With the ball or her fist?" Elizabeth asked.
"Oh, forget it. I'm going to go and take a shower," I sighed as I walked down the corridor into the shower room.
When I came out of the shower, nobody was there, not even Elizabeth! I looked around, and saw that nobody's things were here. they must've ditched me. I thought. I walked over to the mirrors and I saw a brush on the counter. I decided that a little brushing of my hair would do me no harm, so I used it to brush out my unruly hair. Then, before I even knew what I was doing, I grabbed the brush and stuffed it in my backpack. Then I went about my day as usual.
That night, I couldn't help but brush my hair out once again before I went to bed. the brush had perfectly sculpted tips so that they didn't hurt my hair! I threw away my old brush, and decided that this one was going to be mine forever.
Seriously, I never left that brush out of my sight. I had it with me at dinner, I showered with it on the bathroom counter, and I even went to sleep with it! But what the little brush did to me that next morning gave me a surprise.
BEEP BEEP BEEP!!!! My alarm clock was noisily going off. I quickly slammed my fist on the snooze button and shifted my head. But I couldn't get back to sleep. It felt as if some kind of energy was flowing through me that I couldn't stop. So I got out of bed and got dressed.
Surprisingly though, most of my clothes were too loose for me to wear to school! Then, I remembered that in the bottom of a heap of clothes, there was a pair of jeans and a t-shirt that had been two sizes too small for me . . . so I tried those on. Those, actually fit me. I couldn't have shrunk down two dress sizes overnight . . . or could I have? I wondered. I pushed that thought away from focus and headed toward the bathroom.
Naturally, I first reached for my zit cream, and then looked up in the mirror to apply it to my zits . . . but what I saw made my drop my zit cream, step on it, and let the tube squirt on the bathroom door. But that didn't matter. What was important was what happened to my face.
TO BE CONTINIUED . . .
