The Hoodie Girl

Original Edition: 01

"Bye honey! Love you, and good luck!" she replies chirpily, her voice sounding from the kitchen. She is probably making coffee, her 'power drink'.

Quite evidently, my mother is a morning-person while I, on the other hand, am not. The state of my hair this morning makes Albert Einstein's hairdo look five-star. It is plain painful sending a brush through my stubborn knots.

I hear her muttering something about 'they grow up so fast'. Sappy stuff, but it is, to some extent true. It seems like just a while ago I was a nervous freshman, looking up to the seniors and wondering when I would get my turn.

Then a piercing sound interrupts my somewhat sentimental thoughts. Followed by another ear-splitting honk.

Of course, my beautiful and charming friend, Mia, rolls up at my front lawn, and in the process, strangles all the flowers present. Poor carnations, I shake my head pitifully. They were just starting to bloom.

She flashes her million-dollar smile at me, before studying me from head to toe, her eyes trailing down my body. "Get in the car, I need to tell you something really important! Now, hurry!" she exclaims.

Oh Lord, what is it now? I hastily chuck my bag to the back of the car, uttering a soft R.I.P message to all those dead flowers, sliding into the front seat of her Ford. I put on my seatbelt (safety first) and turn to face her.

"What?" I ask worriedly, because I was honestly concerned about her. She was always getting herself into sticky situations and I'd have to be the one to sort things out.

She leans forward slightly and quietly whispers, "Couldn't you find something better to wear?"

And then I stare at her. Yes, everyone, that is the freaking mess you call my best friend. I nearly got a heart attack. She is such a good actor, I should've known.

"I mean... look at you!" she continues, obviously unaware of the mini heart attack she had just given me. I have learnt to disregard her snarky little comments and what some people would deem offensive, is really just Mia expressing her 'love'.

"You're hardly showing any skin. It's senior year, doll. You need to relax a little, loosen up!"

I frown at her, and when I inspect at my jeans a little closer I recognize a paint stain that was from ages ago. I run my fingers over the off-green paint splatter instinctively.

Nobody's going to arrest me for being a fashion reject. I roll my eyes at Mia, who's curvy blonde hair is held back perfectly by a pair of sunglasses.

"I'm fine like this Mia, really. You look great," I admit honestly, because she did, with her champagne blond hair streaked with brown, maroon painted lips, black peplum top and denim skinnies.

"Classy and stunning. I just choose a more...mm, how do I put it? Comfortable style," I finish, running my fingers over the pair of rings over my chest-held by a single silver chain.

She smirks, looking forward at the road ahead. "I'm trying, you know. To help you. At this age, what you my girlie, need most, is a boyfriend. You're way too serious."

"There's something called priority, you know. Right now, oxygen is at the top of my list-not a boyfriend. And pretty much after oxygen, it's school for me. I need to focus on my academics; you of all people know how hard mom works. I need a scholarship," I protest, effectively cutting her off. I don't need to talk about this right now.

"Ok doll," she tuts, "Leave your essays for English. And, speaking of school-related things, we're here!" she announces, "Welcome to another year of hell at Eastview High."