*Ding, ding, ding.*
I heard the sound of my alarm ringing, and oh, is it morning already? I'm so stressed out.
I softly got out of bed, heading to the shower, and *ugh*, it was as chilly as ever. I took a quick bath and got out, only to face my mirror.
I don't really like looking at myself naked. It makes me shy and forces me to acknowledge that I'm a curvy young lady. I don't like my breasts; they're huge. I started noticing my body changes in junior year. I pretended not to notice, even though my mom seemed to know, and Bella...
Oh, I haven't introduced Bella yet. She's my friend from freshman year. Bella is so pretty, well, she's popular because she's an upperclassman. Her parents have the money and the popularity. I never really wanted to accept friendship with Bella because I thought maybe she'd mock me. But, well, I turned out to be wrong.
Bella is my best, best buddy, and I love her so much.I remember when Bella found out about my breast changes, and then she called it out, saying, "Gurlll"—she really stretches the word *'girl'* into *'gurlll'*. She says it sounds polished, and I like when she says it.
"Gurlll, your boobs are changing! It's turning into a D-cup!"
I pretended not to notice by saying, "No, it's only a C. It just looks like that because I wear push-up bras."
I never liked it when people acknowledged my body. It feels like it's just for me.
Still looking at my reflection, I noticed my wide hips, my bust, and my big, round butt. I'm a thin figure—funny how I've got all this body. Well, I love my thin figure since it's one of the beauty standards around here.
I'm not really pretty—not in the traditional sense. I don't really meet the *beauty* standards around here. I'm just okay. I'm brown-skinned, yeah. My parents are Black, and I love my skin color. It's beautiful.
I'm not as pretty as Bella, and I'm definitely not popular. I'm just here.
Time's running out. I grabbed my uniform from my mini wardrobe and started changing.I guess thanks to my parents for sending me to a good, expensive school. It's not easy to pay for, since we're just middle-class rich. Most of the kids at my school are *really* rich. Let's say, 90% of them are. It's a pretty expensive school.
I threw on my uniform and packed my bags.
Once I was ready, I grabbed my bag and opened the door to my room. The house was quiet, but I could hear the soft hum of the TV coming from the living room. My parents were probably already up. I walked downstairs, the wooden steps creaking under my feet.
When I entered the dining room, my mom was already sitting at the table, sipping her coffee. She looked up and smiled when she saw me.
"Good morning, sweetie. How was your sleep?"
I gave her a tired smile. "Okay, I guess."
She chuckled softly, setting her cup down. "I know, senior year is rough. You've got this, though. Don't stress too much about college. You'll figure it out."
I nodded but didn't say much. College was the last thing I wanted to think about right now.
My dad was sitting at the other end of the table, reading the newspaper, but he looked up as I entered. "Morning, Avi. You got everything packed?"
"Yep," I said, taking a seat at the table.
Mom poured me a cup of coffee, even though I was way too young to drink it. I never had the heart to tell her I didn't like it.
"Any plans after school today?" Dad asked, folding his paper.
I hesitated for a moment. "Just... homework, I guess."
Mom gave me a knowing look. "Remember to ask Bella for help if you need it. She's always got your back."
I nodded, even though I knew Bella would never let me get away without helping her with something in return. It was part of the deal with being her friend.
Before I could say anything more, I heard the sound of small footsteps running down the hall. Simon, my younger brother, came rushing into the room, his hair still a bit messy from just waking up.
"Morning, Avi!" he said with a wide grin, hopping onto the chair beside me.
"Hey, Simon," I greeted him, ruffling his hair. He was a bit younger than me, but his energy was always through the roof.
He smiled mischievously, glancing at me with his usual playful smirk. "You're still looking sleepy. You need some coffee to wake up?"
"Definitely not." I rolled my eyes, even though he was teasing.
Mom laughed and handed him a bowl of cereal. "You two are something else."
I took a sip of my coffee, feeling the warmth spread through me. Despite the stress of school and everything else, moments like these with my family felt like they could make the day a little better.
I took a deep breath and set my mug down, bracing myself for whatever today had in store.
As I walked to the bus stop, I couldn't help but feel a bit drained. I stepped onto the bus, the familiar hum of chatter and engine noise enveloping me. I scanned the crowded seats, my eyes adjusting to the dimmer light inside. I spotted an empty seat near the back and made my way down the aisle, my backpack swaying slightly.
As I settled into the seat, I let out a quiet sigh, relieved to have found a spot. The bus lurched forward, and I gazed out the window, watching the scenery pass by. I pulled out my phone, scrolling through social media, my mind wandering to the day ahead.
When I arrived at school, the usual noise and chaos greeted me.
Then, Bella spotted me. She ran over, engulfing me in a hug. "Baby girl, you look *good*! What did you do with your hair?"
"Just shampoo and straightened it," I replied, feeling a little self-conscious. It was a big change from my usual curls.
Bella gasped dramatically. "Damn, girl, you look *amazing*!"
I frowned slightly. "Thanks, but please, not the curse words." They always felt so harsh to me. Mom always said they were for "thugs." And here was Bella, like so many other teens, tossing them around like they were nothing.
Bella rolled her eyes playfully. "Alright, alright, I heard you. You *really* don't like the word. But guess what, mama? *Lots* of people say it." She laughed, and I couldn't help but giggle along.
Looking at Bella, I felt a twinge of envy. She was just so effortlessly beautiful, so elegant, so *confident*. Even her shoes, those beautiful Adidas sneakers, seemed to exude it.
Bella always wore such stylish clothes and shoes. She was so generous, often giving me things she no longer wanted. I was even wearing one of her hand-me-down pairs right now.
I found myself staring at her perfectly glossed lips, admiring how flawlessly she applied her lip combo. I barely knew how to do makeup. Lip gloss and a touch of mascara were usually the extent of it.
Bella always encouraged me to wear mascara, insisting it brought out my eyes.
She draped an arm casually over my shoulders as we giggled about something she'd whispered in my ear.
Suddenly, I heard my name called, loud and clear. "Avaaaa!"
We both turned to see Josh striding towards us. Josh was our other best friend, the male counterpart to our dynamic duo. Josh, a guy, and Bella, a lady—a perfect trio.
Josh was undeniably cool and handsome. He had striking green eyes, a strong jawline, and a slightly crooked nose—a baseball injury, I knew. He'd never quit playing, though.
Josh was *just* my boy bestie. I'd never seen him in a romantic light, nor had I ever dated anyone. I was still a virgin, untouched even by a kiss.
Bella, who was far more experienced, constantly urged me to hold onto it and give it to the right person, or I'd regret it. I was determined to follow that advice.
Josh, like Bella, came from a wealthy family. Upper-class kids were everywhere at our school.
He reached us and enveloped us in a huge hug. "How you doin', my best ladies?" he asked, grinning.
"Well, we're doing better than *you* are," Bella retorted. Of course, Bella was the sassiest one, but only with Josh.
Josh shot her a mock-serious look. "It's always the bitch who answers first," he said, laughing. I chuckled, too. Bella, feigning offense, burst out laughing and playfully punched Josh in the arm.
Words like "bitch" didn't faze Bella; she even used them herself. But if anyone dared to say it *to* me, she'd unleash her fury.
Josh grinned and hugged us again. "How much I've missed you guys, even you, dickhead," he said, turning to Bella.
Tired of their bickering, I interjected, "Josh, will you please stop using those words? And Bella, don't encourage him." I looked at them both sternly.
"Chill, baby girl," Josh said, smiling disarmingly.
Just then, a loud *zoom!* echoed through the school grounds as a sleek BMW entered the compound. The Worthingtons.
Rich. Very powerful.
They were the wealthiest family to send their kids to our school. The Worthington children *exuded* wealth.
And they were beautiful.
Alexander Worthington emerged from the car first. As the eldest son, Alexander Worthington was the kind of guy you couldn't help but stare at, replaying his image in your mind. He was *that* beautiful, with piercing blue eyes, a perfectly sculpted face, a sharp, elegant nose, and full, kissable lips. He smelled of money, of power. Alex didn't seem to care about anyone, though.
Alex was the object of nearly every girl's crush at school, but he remained I don't see them kind of guy . I had never liked Alex; he was too arrogant and looked down on people.
He didn't seem to care, yet he had plenty of friends, mostly because of the money he freely spent.
Following him were his twin sisters, Helen and Sophia, still in junior year. As beautiful as their brother, they were constantly surrounded by admirers. Like Alex, they were also undeniably proud, though I couldn't entirely blame them. If my parents were that rich, who knew if I'd be any different?
They got out of the car and walked right past us. I couldn't help but inhale their expensive perfume. They smelled *amazing*.
Alex sported designer glasses and had left the top two buttons of his shirt undone, a style that somehow made him look even cooler.
He also had the physique of someone who spent hours in the gym. His muscles were well-defined, and he clearly wasn't shy about showing them off.
His sisters followed him, and like the other students, I stared as they passed. They were clearly used to the attention.
Snapping out of my thoughts, I realized Josh was laughing. I'd been so lost in my own head that I hadn't heard what he'd said to Bella, who was also laughing.
"What, guys?" I asked, curious.
"Well, Josh here thought he might have a shot at dating one of the twins," Bella said, giggling. I smiled. She walked up to Josh and patted his shoulder. "Keep dreaming big, boy," she said. Then, looking up at him, she added, "You'll never get a chance. No one will want to date a psycho like you." She turned and walked away.
I looked at Josh's face, which was now as red as a tomato, and laughed. "You best shut up, bitch," he shouted after Bella, who was already ahead of us.
I swatted Josh on the head. "Told you to stop calling her that, Josh."
He turned to me, apologetic. "I'm so sorry, mama. She just annoys me to the fuck."
I glared at Josh for using the f-word again. Didn't they ever listen? No curse words, especially around me. Josh, immediately noticing my expression, mouthed "sorry."
"So, like, going for English AP class. Catch ya later," I said to Josh, then headed inside the school."
_ _ _ _
As I headed to my English AP class, my mind was elsewhere. I spotted an empty seat near the window and made my way over, trying to avoid eye contact with anyone. Mrs. Davison, our English teacher, was already at her desk, a mountain of papers threatening to topple over. She was a kind woman, but her passion for literature could be a little overwhelming at times.
I settled into my seat, trying to focus on the upcoming lesson. The classroom was already buzzing with activity. And then I saw him. Alex Worthington sauntered into the classroom, radiating an aura of effortless cool. Even in our stuffy AP English class, he managed to look like he'd just stepped out of a magazine.
Despite his popularity and privileged background, Alex was actually brilliant. Top-of-the-class brilliant. It was almost comical how someone who seemed so spoiled could also be so academically gifted. He took his usual seat, a few rows in front of me, and immediately started scribbling in a notebook, his expression unreadable.
Mrs. Davison began the lesson, her voice filled with passion as she discussed Shakespeare. "How many lines is a Shakespearean sonnet?" she asked, throwing the question out to the class. Alex, who looked like he wasn't listening, had his hand up. "Mr. Worthington," Mrs. Davison said, pointing to him. "Fourteen lines," Alex replied, his voice confident. "That's correct, Mr. Worthington," Mrs. Davison said, looking up at us.
"Who can talk about the character Helena in A Midsummer Night's Dream?" Mrs. Davison asked, her eyes scanning the room. She looked at me, as if asking me to answer. I looked down immediately, feeling shy. Then I heard, "Miss Beaufort, answer please?" I was shocked, and my heart skipped a beat. I didn't want to have everyone's eyes on me.
I stood up slowly, trying to compose myself. "Well, Helena is a strong woman in the book... she's loyal, devoted, and often self-deprecating, and she believes in never giving up to get what her heart wants," I said, looking around uncertainly. I didn't understand what I was saying, and I could feel my face growing hot.
Just as I finished speaking, I heard a snicker behind me. "Too much praise for Helena, she's just a pick-me girl," someone said, getting the whole class laughing. I immediately turned around to look at who had spoken, but nobody seemed to be looking directly at me except Alex. I squinted at him and smiled. "She isn't a pick-me girl; she just wants to be loved. That's all. She just can't get away with the crush; it's more like a first love kind of thing," I bluffed.
Alex gave me a piercing look, his eyes seeming to bore into mine. "Well, due to what I read, she told Demetrius to do whatever he likes to her if though he can't love her. Who the hell says that and isn't a pick-me girl?" he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. I shuddered at his use of the word "hell." God knows how much I hated curse words.
Mrs. Davison, who had been watching us the whole time, decided to intervene. "Mr. Worthington, mind your words," she said firmly. Not ready to give up, I threw back at Alex, "Well, she's guilty of all that because she's desperate. She just wants to be loved." Alex stared at me like I was crazy and didn't say a word. Then I added, "Maybe you feel like that because you've never experienced loving someone who clearly doesn't want you." I turned and sat down, feeling a sense of satisfaction.
The whole class was silent, and Mrs. Davison broke the silence. "Well, that's the power of a good book." "Alright, class, that's all for today," Mrs. Davison said, dismissing us. As the bell rang, signaling the end of class, I practically leaped out of my seat. I needed to get out of there, to escape the lingering tension and the memory of my awkward exchange with Alex.
---
The final bell rang, and I packed up slowly, still a little annoyed. Just outside the classroom, I spotted Bella standing near the lockers, eyes scanning the hallway.
"There you are!" she said, marching over. "I've been looking for you. What took so long?"
"I got held up in AP Lit," I said with a sigh as we started walking. "Had a bit of an argument."
Her eyes lit up with interest. "Spill. With who?"
"Alex."
She immediately raised a brow. "Of course. What did Mr. I-Know-Everything do this time?"
"We were discussing *A Midsummer Night's Dream*, and I mentioned how I kind of relate to Helena. You know, feeling invisible, chasing after love, trying to be noticed… and he rolled his eyes and called her a pick-me girl."
Bella stopped in her tracks. "He called Helena a pick-me?"
I nodded. "And he said I was 'over-identifying' with her and missing the point."
Bella scoffed dramatically. "Ugh, Alex and his fake deep takes. Of course he wouldn't get it—he's never been overlooked a day in his life. He walks around like a rejected Shakespeare character himself."
I laughed. "I told him he wouldn't understand because he's never been in those shoes. Not everyone gets to be the main character all the time."
"Exactly!" Bella said, flipping her hair. "Helena wasn't a pick-me. She was honest and desperate and real. That's not weak—it's human."
I smiled. "That's what I was trying to say."
"Well, don't worry. Alex will never be able to see beyond his ego. But you? You made your point. Proud of you, Avi."
"Thanks," I said quietly.
We kept walking, and just as we reached the parking lot, a sleek black car pulled up beside us. Bella's driver rolled down the window.
She turned to me. "Hop in. Let's go chill at my place—I'm still thinking about those snacks."
I shook my head. "Nah, I think I want to take a walk. Clear my head a bit."
She squinted at me suspiciously. "You're not going to overthink that Alex stuff, are you?"
I gave her a small smile. "I'll try not to."
"Fine," she sighed. "But call me later, or I'm sending a search party."
"Deal."
She hopped into the car, waving as it pulled away. I watched them disappear down the road, then turned the other way—needing some quiet, and maybe a little time to figure out why Alex's words still lingered in my mind.
---