After chemistry, I wait outside the classroom for Layla, who looks absolutely miserable. There's this nasty brownish yellow, zig-zaggy- spikey fog clinging to her arms like mud, that kind of smells like fried electronics. Chemistry is not a strong subject for her, this test was clearly a flop.
"You alright?" I ask, despite knowing the opposite.
"No I'm going to faill!" Layla wined, slouching all over the place.
"You can't fail this chemistry test. Like, it's impossible." I tell her reassuringly, putting on a smile.
"I think I just made it possible." Layla sniffs.
"Ah, come on drama queen, we have maths." I sigh inwardly, as we walk in the dull humming of chatter from the rest of the school.
I've known Layla since forever, we went to preschool together, endured primary school and even after school club, and now, we survive secondary school. Layla's not great at sciences, but it's in that cutesy, 'oh-no, I'm going to fail!' way that is going to give her so many study dates when we get to GCSE's.
Layla's actually super cute, she's got this gorgeous golden-spun caramel skin that she has six different moisturizers for, and these big brown eyes that catch the light like jewels, and super shiny black hair that she knows how to style. If you can't tell, she's part of the reason I'm questioning if I'm bisexual or not.
I'd never date her, she's like a sister to me, but she's still absolutely gorgeous. There are a few pretty girls at my school, but personality wise, that's a no-go. Besides, I don't want to date again until college, not after the train-wreck of last year. Anyway, Layla's lovely, and as long as I have one friend, I'm good.
We loiter outside maths, and I can almost hear her fussing. She's better at school than she actually thinks, she's awesome at Spanish, and her notes look so much better than mine.
Compared to her, I look way less put together. Layla was the one who convinced me to dye my usually way too light blonde hair pink, and it still hasn't disappeared, even in late September. My eyes used to be bluer, but now they're just going grey-ish. The marbled-framed glasses with the mint green legs that keep getting scratched by nothing.
I keep getting patches of acne on my forehead and temples that I can't help but pick at. And according to the blood test I had last week, I'm near anemic, so also pasty next to her. Additionally, I'm on a growth spurt right now, so the height difference is two centimeters off.
Generally, puberty is just an issue, the acne, the mood swings, the horrible, debilitating period pain I feel way too embarrassed to talk about, and suddenly noticing every imperfection. That way my belly bulges slightly above my widening hips, the way every time I look at my thighs sitting down, they seem to double in size.
I know I'd look pretty conventionally attractive if the acne went away, and I suffered through braces to get more aligned teeth and figured out how to smile properly in photos, I wore my contact lenses more often and if I just got rid of the weird bulge of my stomach, but it makes me feel terrible every time I think about it that I have to repeat something like; 'I am death's daughter, conventional beaty standards are not a problem!', but that just makes me feel weird. It didn't really help when the school gave out new homework diaries that my form tutor gave me mine first, open on the page of positive self-affirmations. But I try to ignore stuff like that.
Apart from dyspraxia, I also have Asperger's and ADHD, so I'm pretty good at languages, and learning, and I feel terrible every time Layla compares her score to mine. They're actually pretty good, and if she sat next to some of the other kids, she'd realize that. I don't even like half the stuff I'm doing in languages, because the teachers have just exhausted the interest out of me.
Miss Decimal, the maths teacher appears, and orders us all into the classroom. I sit down, smiling reassuringly at Layla. The' volume of a cone is interesting', repeating that isn't really gas-lighting myself into enjoying this.
We're about halfway through the lesson when something weird happens.
BINABASA MO ANG
A Tale of: Ravens, Scythes and Cherry blossoms
General Fiction'All it takes to consult the dead is a pen, some paper, and a secret you've never told anyone else' Hana is the daughter of death, a hereditary position that has existed for as long as mankind has. She lives through each day with the caw of ravens i...
