It Gets Better...

3| "What You Know"

 It was Monday morning, and that meant that Emily couldn't hide in her house anymore. She had to go back to school and face the glaring looks and judgment that awaited her. She hadn't spoken to CJ or Isaiah since that night; she couldn't, how was she suppose to talk to them? She felt embarrassed, because it was her actions and judgment that led her to be humiliated in front of them and everyone.

 Her room was plastered with pictures of her favorite celebrities, bands and artist on her walls. She had her collection of skate board decks, that she had been collecting over time, nailed to the wall; being used as shelving.

 “Emily!” Her dad yelled from the hallway. He walked into the doorway.” You better get going to the bus stop, don't wanna be late.”

 “Yeah, that would be a bad thing to happen.” She groaned.

 “Is something wrong?”

 “No, no. Why do you think there's something wrong?”

 “Well you haven't left the house at all over the weekend, and you're friend Isaiah keeps, calling, trying to talk to you.”

 “I don't want to talk to him right now,” Emily replied.

 “Is he you're boyfriend or something?” Her dad asked.

 “No, dad. I don't have a boyfriend, unfortunately. Guys, don't like me.”

 “Nonsense, you're adorable.”

 “Guys don't like adorable.”

 “Get going to the bus stop.” He smiled, and left the room.

 Emily, grabbed her phone, and bag and started for the door, when her phone buzzed. She looked down and it was a new message on Twitter. She checked it, and it was the picture of her, there on Twitter.

 “Kill. Me. Now.” She sunk down on the bed. She opened her laptop and went onto Twitter to get a better look. She examined the picture. At least her breast were covered up.

 She scrolled down her news feed, and saw people talking about her, and about the photo. Then she saw Morgan's tweet, saying she was going to put the video of it that she had on it, and the other non-censored photos.

 “I'm going to kill her.” Emily closed her laptop.

 “Emily, the bus is coming!” Her dad yelled.

 “Crap!” She grabbed her things and ran out of her room.

Marcy Thrash, sat in her room. She wasn't in a big rush for her first day of school. She had been dreading going to school; all she needed was a few extra days off.

 Marcy had silky, jet black hair. It was almost goddess like. She had beautiful, brown eyes, and voluptuous lips to match. She was mixed, half white from her father and half Filipino and Vietnamese from her mother.

 “Marcy, come on what's the hold up?” Her father, Liam Thrash stood in her doorway.

 “Not in the mood to go today.”

 “Not in the mood?” He asked?

“I have cramps.” She muttered.

 “You said that last week. You're lucky I even let you stay home. We have to go, now!” He turned and left the room.

 Marcy followed him out into the hallway. “You don't know what its gonna be like for me. I'm the new girl from dance school. And on top of that, I'm the principal's, daughter. That's gonna get me friends. I don't know why I couldn't stay at the Performing Arts School.”