ONE YEAR LATER
I love school. None of the other kids seem to like it though, so when they all get together and complain I grumble about homework like the rest of them. But I do. I like school. I like to learn, I like to read, and I really like how my teacher looks at me when I turn my worksheets in before the other kids.
I even like homework.
There was something I didn't like about school though. The girls there were mean.first grade was very different from kindergarten. In kindergarten, all you had to worry about at school was getting your coloring sheet done. In the first grade, you had to worry about the whispering girls at recess. I didn't like it when people whispered about me.
They didn't say nice things.
My mama always said, "if you can't beat 'em, join 'em." So I decided to be their friend. The plan was that if they got to know me- got to be my friend- they wouldn't whisper about me anymore.
It didn't work. My group of friends only got more vicious and personal with their whispers.
"Oh! Pretty hair, Veronica!" Claire said one day when our paths crossed as we got on separate buses.
This made me very happy. I didn't like my hair much at all. It was curly and a boring, dirty blonde.
"Thanks so much, Claire. Your hair's really pretty too!" And it was. Claire's hair was a deep brown and straight as a pin. What I wouldn't give to have such pretty hair...
Claire didn't say anything else. She got on her bus, I got on mine, and we both took a long, bumpy ride home.
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The next day something happened that made my heart stop. My friend Marissa came up to me at recess with a sweet smile on her face and jumped right in to what she was there to tell me.
"Claire said that you have really ugly hair, Veronica. Isn't that mean of her? I think your hair is pretty."
Wait. what? That couldn't be true. Claire just told me yesterday that I had pretty hair. Why would she say that if she didn't mean it?
Then it clicked.
Claire wasn't really my friend. She didn't really like my hair, she was just being mean.
"Thanks for telling me, Marissa. Well, I don't think her hair is pretty either."
Wait... why did I say that? Claire did have pretty hair. Something burning and mean had built up in my stomach when Marissa told me what Claire said about me and I let it out. Oh well, if she could say mean things about me then it was okay if I said them about her, right? Especially just behind her back.
This made sense.
Marissa giggled and said I was right. We discussed for a while JUST how ugly her hair was. I made things up. I told lies. And it all seemed okay.
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Being a part of this group of friends was exhausting. You really had to watch what you said. It seemed like everyone outside my group of friends didn't like me because I hung out with them, and the people inside my group of friends didn't like me all that much either. I felt alone. And the more alone I felt, the meaner I got.
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OH MY STARS! Jack Coleson just smiled at me! I wonder if he likes me? He was SO cute. He played soccer at recess with a lot of other boys, but he was by far the best. Jack had pretty brown eyes, and cool brown hair.
