That Girl.

Black Ray-Bans. Leather jacket. Honey coloured hair. Sun kissed skin. She was that girl.

You know? That girl. The one girl who every female is secretly jealous of, and the one girl that every guy wants to date. I had often kept to myself, dark chocolate hair, glasses and freckles and all. She walked in one day – black skinny jeans and her “I-really-don’t-care” entrance into my Chemistry class making everyone pause in the middle of our lecture about covalent and ionic bonds.

“Ah, yes. Your seat is over there.”

My teacher Mr. Brown, points at the seat beside me – the table at the back of the room. She lifts up her Ray Bans, smiles at my teacher, and walks towards me. I inwardly cringe. I knew these types of girls. Spiteful, snooty, often bitchy and up themselves. I looked down at my notebook, listening to Mr. Brown’s lecture once again. She flopped down beside me, and cleared her throat. I stay silent. She drums her fingers against the table. My jaw clenches.

“Erm… Are you ok? You look stressed?” I look up, she’s looking at me – smiling. I straighten my back.

“Yeah, um, yeah. I’m… fine. Just, erm, concentrating.” I nod awkwardly at her.

She laughs, and my head turns to her. “What?” I enquire.

She giggles again. “It’s just… this guy. This is all 3rd grade chem. I mean, ionic bonds? Is he serious? I mean how can you not know this stuff, right?” She shakes her head in disapproval, and I chuckle awkwardly.

Crap. I think. This was AP Chem. Not only was she that girl, but she was smart too.  If there were any girls in my class who had a crush on a guy, they better be quick. This girl was dangerous.

The bell rings, and she stands up putting her Ray Bans back on, covering her green eyes. “Well, nice meeting you. Maybe I have other classes with you?” I was putting my books in my bag and about to reply when I looked up and saw she was out the door, with a trail of about five 17 year old boys following behind her like lost puppies. I rolled my eyes.

Life went on as normal, apart from the new girl having crowds of people following her or boys literally shoving each other to be next to her. I found out her name was Lily Garden (how ironic) and she had lived in Manhattan for pretty much her entire life. I was sat in the library one day reading up on some history when she flopped down in the seat next to me.

“Hey”, Lily said. She leaned her elbows on the desk. I look up, eyebrows raised. We hadn’t talked since that day in chemistry class.

“Hi, Lily. What do you need?” I close my history textbook and straighten my glasses. “Nothing.” She smiles. “My dad’s out of town tonight so I’m having a little party at mine. And I’m inviting you!” She leans back on the chair, as if it were her throne and she was the Queen.

I take my glasses off, my freckles out in the open, my dark hair wild. I had watched her manipulate everyone in my grade, use them like you use a tea bag. Use them for a while, then throw them away. I wasn’t going to be her next victim. “Excuse me?” I ask her. She frowns. “You’re inviting me to your party?”I ask again.  “Did you not hear or…” She chuckles to herself. I sit up straight.

“Oh, no. I heard. I just don’t want to go.” I look at her straight in the eyes. Her face falls, the confidence in her green eyes weakens, and I can see the blush seep through her cheeks on her sun kissed skin,” “What do you… you don’t wanna come?” She hunches her shoulders, I see her confidence decreasing every second.

I’m still looking at her, straight in the eyes. “Why?” She finally asks.

I smile. “Because,” I reply. “It’s girls like you who think that they have control over everyone. Your hair, your clothes – the way you act. And I will never, EVER, aspire to be like you, Lily. Other girls may want to, and you know how everyone sees you. I, on the other hand, will never let someone control me because they know they have complete control over everyone else. That will never be me. “

I grab my textbook and book bag. Lily sits in the wooden chair, mouth open wide. In the past few weeks, this is the first time she’s been speechless and unconfident. “Goodbye, Lily. Enjoy your party this weekend.” I walked away, leaving her and all my shyness behind me.

From that day on, no one would ever make me feel not good enough ever again.



Filed under Short Stories.

5 responses to “That Girl.

  1. I really like this story! Its a good way of showing the psychology that builds up in people’s minds. Your writings are amazing! 🙂

  2. Your writing is very apt at capturing moods and places. You do have a tendency to spell out the moral of the story a bit too broadly, but don’t worry: the more you write, the better you’ll be able to ‘evoke’ rather than ‘tell’. And once you do that, I’m sure you’ll produce some fantastic fiction. So keep up the good work!

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