Who's to say I wasn't perfect? Oh yeah, me. To the world, I was a shy, intelligent, modest 13 year old that kept to herself. To my friends, I was a spazzy, loving, caring, outgoing brainiac that cherished what she had, and never let jealousy grab her by the heart. To my teachers, I was their dream student. Straight A's, no late papers, perfect attendance, never late, never misbehaved. To myself, I was a clumsy, stupid, girl with an uncontrollable mouth that tended to speak the opinion in my brain, with no filter in between.
To most of the above's delight, boys rarely ever crossed my mind, and on the occaision they did, they were thought of as the best friends that never decided to start drama, or out-dress you, or constantly talk your ears off. -Until the summer before eighth grade. Then it all changed. As for his point of view on me... I didn't even know him, let along what he thought of me.