Loosely Based

She just said “Did she transfer back to that other school?” and threw her head back laughing. The other blonde one did too. At least that’s what I heard. From a reliable source, I may add. These are my so-called friends. The one that didn’t laugh, the brunette, I still believe that she’s actually my friend. The other two just want to be on top, just like the rest of us.

Well you know, I wish I did transfer back. I wish I never left, I had real friends there. I had a good relationship going, my grades were great, and I took it all for granted. Stupid little me, always wanting more.

I changed schools because I was the weird girl, I didn’t have a lot of friends, and I wanted things to change. Well turns out that I didn’t let myself think it through enough and ended up being in mostly the same situation at the new school. Except now my class is of 20 people instead of 80 and it’s a lot harder to change cliques and pretend like last month never happened. But trust me, I tried. Toward the end of the year, I just decided to move back to where (in my memory) there were people who appreciated me for who I was. Ha, that’s a laugh. Central High School is full of three people. B*****s, want-to-be b*****s, and everyone else (who no one cares about). I was a want-to-be for the majority of my freshman year, when I came back. Then the summer before sophomore year, things changed. The comments on my facebook pictures weren’t from losers and creepers, but from popular girls. Saying how cute I looked and with little hearts and stuff at the end of messages. Had they actually missed me? I was so in! The first day of school, I took my spot with the pretty girls in the line to assign lockers and got a prime cut of real estate. Right in the middle of the English hallway, where everyone hangs out before school and after lunch, I’d finally be seen. I dyed my strawberry blonde hair dark brown, bought tight jeans and bright tee shirts, wore enough makeup to make me break out and cover it up in the same day, I was a new me. But of course it didn’t last, plastic melts under pressure. I still wasn’t invited to parties, I remained single through most of sophomore year, and (surprise!) had no real opinions of my own, I just floated with the big fish, and I think they knew I wasn’t really one of them.

So I rebelled, it’s kind of my nature. I went back to my goofy hipster style, was vegetarian again (for about a whole week, I think), even started some rumors about my own bisexuality. Yep, all that in maybe a month. But I knew that wasn’t me anymore, and I wasn’t about to give away everything I worked so hard for, was I? Well of course not, so it’s time to compromise.

My friends, they’re b*****s. I hear it almost every day. I should be (and am) thankful that people always say “your friends” instead of “you”, and I think I need to embrace that. I am not a b***h, and have no reason to wish or pretend to be one. I have a few real friends, and I’ll hold on to them, but it’s time to do some spring cleaning and cut the slack. I don’t need people to tell me how mean my “friends” have treated others (or more recently, me behind my back, thanks for that). Pretty is who pretty loves, right? Something like that, whatever.

The crazy thing is, I knew this was going on the whole time, and I loved it for a while. I loved being the middle of these things, I was the damage control for their little soap-opera tactics, they needed me. But you know? No one deserves having to clean up after bulldozers with a dustpan.

But I’m getting out of what I started. The temple is about to fall, so go about your business and stay out of the way. I know I will.

Author's Note

Please forgive the profanity again, there just wasn't a way to substitute it in this case, considering the quotes it's based upon. Thank you.