Imperfect Angel

"Will you shut up?" he whispered hotly into my ear. I cringed and turned around to stare at him straight in the eye.

"I didn't even say anything!" I whisper-exclaimed angrily.

"I heard you scoffing at my comment. Mind your own business," he said rudely. I didn't reply after that. I just stared at the wall-clock. It was one of those creepy ones shaped like a cat with huge eyes and the tail as the pendulum. 

"Don't be mean to him," his friend said. Thomas's friend was tan with dark brown hair that was spiked up by far too much gel. "Chill bro, he didn't even do anything."

I was confused at his friend's comment. "You got a point, Chris," Thomas said. I stuck my hands into the pockets of my sweater and remained silent. The teacher was briefing us about the school rules. She had picked one of the brunettes in the front to pass out the handbooks. I continued to be confused, so I decided to speak up.

"What're you guys talking about?" I asked. The brunette was going down my row now. She had pretty blue eyes and donned a hot pink tube top and grey skinny jeans. She also wore a leather jacket that looked very expensive.

"Sorry about that, dude. I'm Thomas. What's your name bro?" Thomas asked me. Dude? Bro? Huh? They didn't think I was a guy, right? I thought that this was just their typical terminology.

"Cassie," I replied cheerily. Maybe I had made some friends or something.

"That's a weird name for a guy..." Chris said, staring at me closely.

"I'm a girl," I said very very slowly. My heart began to pound faster and faster and faster. Was my blond hair cut too short? I had made sure that it was past my shoulders...was this some kind of mean joke? Why was it happening all over again?

"Oh my gosh! Holy shit, no way!" Thomas exclaimed. Chris and him both busted out laughing and pounded their desks with the fists. "Are you serious?" Thomas asked, peering at me with snake-like eyes.

The brunette was next to my desk now, handing me a handbook. "Hey Thomas! Hey Chris!" she said in a bright voice, grinning at them in a seductive way.

"Can you believe this is a chick?" Chris asked, pointing to me. I pushed my glasses up my nose, my cheeks turning red. Had they chosen to tease me on purpose?

"Did you have surgery or something?" The brunette asked, staring at me right in the face. And suddenly it was like middle school all over again. I thought I actually looked better this year. I thought I looked enough like a girl so that people didn't make fun of me.

"No. I'm really a girl," I said slowly and softly, almost a whisper now. The brunette girl's mouth formed an O and she shook her head, moving on to the next row. I took off my hoodie, hoping the tight t-shirt would do the trick.

Chris and Thomas snickered behind me. I turned to stare straight at the teacher, wishing with all my heart that I sat down next to Jessica. I swallowed hard, trying not to let the tears become visible. But my throat was clogging up and my face was turning red and my eyes began to burn. I could feel it.

The insults hurt. I was so sick and tired of it. I tried everything. From face washes to Google to the doctor. Blackheads were clumped all over my nose. My boobs were nonexistant. I was only 5'4. My butt wasn't big at all...it was as flat as an ironing board. My hair was plain and nothing special. My lips were oversized and huge. My eyelashes were so minimal you couldn't even see them. I never wore anything more than a bit of chapstick because my lips were so dry and hideous all the time.

I would never be remotely beautiful.

And I know people hate reading stories about unattractive people, but let's face it, I'm not gonna lie. I'm no Italian supermodel that guys worship and girls want to be. I'm just Cassie Evans, and Cassie Evans is a nobody. My grades were alright. I made the honor roll every year, and got straight A's most of the time. I did various things outside of school. But let's face it. Beauty is what allows you to strive and thrive in today's society...and it's the one thing that I don't have.

I slumped down my seat, wishing the world would just swallow me up right now. I know I wasn't the ideal girl, but I had a size 2 figure, and sometimes, when I looked into the mirror, I didn't look half as bad. But why did the world see me this way? Why did it make me see myself this way?

The bell rung then, signaling for everybody to go to their first period. I caught up to Jessica slowly, very much like a zombie. "You okay?" she asked me, a concerned look creasing her brow. I nodded and stuck my hands in my pockets, my hoodie in my backpack, my head down staring at the hallway tiles.

The hallway tiles were a dark green. The outside was a a white square, while the inside was the dark green outline of a diamond. I continued to stare at them, not noticing where I was walking or what I was doing. Jessica kept up with me, her stride matching mine. I found our silence needed, and not awkward at all, but comfortable.

"Oh god, Cassie, watch out!" Jessica exclaimed, trying to shove me to the side, but I bumped straight in a big hulky junior.

"I'm sorry," I said, not looking up.

"No biggie, don't worry about it," he said. Then he walked away casually. I had been a clutz my entire life. Mama Odie told me that was what made me so special. I highly doubt it. It was one of the many things that made me so unattractive.

"He's cute," Jessica said beside me, squealing with delight. I shook my head and almost smiled.

"He's too old for you," I said gently. She snorted and started laughing.

"I will never understand you! He's only two years older than me. You think I got a shot?" she asked. I observed her for a long moment as we continued towards the gymnasium. She wore a buttercup colored yellow dress with a dark blue cardigan and silver flats. She more than had a shot.

"Of course you do," I said. "Jessica, boys would die for you," I said, and smiled at her. I knew she knew it, but I also knew sometimes, she just really needed to hear it.

She squealed and gave me a hug. "I love you Cassie Evans!" she exclaimed. I was glad I had a sister. I was glad I had Mama Odie waiting for me back at home. I was thankful that I had a family in my life.

Me and Jessica split ways after that. I went into the gym and she went into world history. The girls and guys looked at me curiously. Gym was coed here, which just made it worse. I sat down on the bleachers, alone. Everybody else hovered far, far, far away from me. Gym had been my worse subject since forever. I wasn't athletic because I wasn't coordinated; being uncoordinated meant being clumsy.

A girl and her brother sat in the very back of the bleachers. Her brother suddenly screamed out: "Hey, look, it's Owen Wilson!" My face turned a furious red, my eyes began to swell with tears, and I could feel myself hyperventilating. I pushed up my glasses again. Tears began to stream down my cheeks. After homeroom, I actually thought it was going to get better.

I should really stop lying to myself.