Layers

Chapter 1

Looking at my reflection I don't care for what I see, mussed up hair, high cheekbones and full lips, I get that i'm not the ugliest in the world i'm just plain. I know we live in a society where looks basically determine your statist, your typical popular girl with a nice dress code and the best weave money can buy, and the popular guy that all the girls fawn over but as expected; he's screwing the popular girl and a couple of her friends. I always dawn on the thought of being "popular" I don't care that much but deep down I don't hate the idea of being voted prom queen with Mr. popular at my side. But this thing that wrapped its hand around my neck called social anxiety snuck up on me and took hold of my social life and life in general. In elementary school, I recall being a class clown social butterfly, I mean i wasn' at the tippity top of the ladder but I wasn't the bottom feeder loner I am today. I don't know how it happened, it just came over me that I'd break down in a crowd full of people and public speaking would be the death of me. But to the minuscule few and my family that know me im funny, actually i'm a complete goof and im talkative about subjects I find interesting. And I love the Weeknd a.k.a (My future husband).

"Maeson, are you up yet!" my mom yells from the kitchen, and i'm shaken from my thoughts. I respond back and walk to the kitchen to fix a bowl of cereal. "Daydreaming again I bet." teased my mom. I playfully roll my large eyes and we converse unil im done with my bowl of cereal, and I head to the bathroom to brush my teeth, wash my face for the day. And if you're wondering I bathe the night before, and if your still wondering and or cringing sue me.

I dawn my outfit which consists of a black tee shirt, mom jeans, a belt, and black and white vans, a typical outfit for a thursday school day. What am I kidding it's basically the only styling of clothes I wear besides a few skirts, and dresses, and other articles here and there. I think I look cute, it's not trendy, but it's me; the look I always go for. After wrestling with my hair for 15mins I check my iphone 8 plus and see that it's 7:15 am and the bus is about to arrive in 5 mins, luckily it's not that far from my house so I grab my all black jansport bookbag and before I scurry out the door I pick up the money my mom left on the counter for me ; thinking to myself I have to get a job because I need my own money. I appreciate my mom but even though im broke as hell I like nice things and every time a dollar touches my hand it vanishes.

Just as im walking down the pavement the bus passes me and stops at the stop a few feet ahead, quickening my pace I hurry to wait to get on the bus. and after boarding the yellow hearse to my emotional funeral that is school, I quickly place  earbuds in my ear drowning out the noise of the heathens that share my commute. My playlist consists of The Weeknd, Bryson Tiller, Jhene Aiko, xxxtentacion, Mary J Blige and so many more genres. Reaching the next stop,I call it the chaotic one, more heathens clamore on the bus except for my only best  friend since the 7th grade Zya. Moving my bookbag to my lap I make room for her a smile blooms on my face, at least I have one thing to look forward to at school, well her and dismissal.

"Hey Caster, you looking cute today." she compliments nudging my shoulder. I tell her I wear basically the same outfit every day, but she insists there is something different about me this morning. Maybe she's talking about my new septum ring that's the only thing I can think of that's different about me. "Ooh girl look at your name twin and his girlfriend." she says showing me her galaxy fold. By name twin she's referring to the king of all asswipes Mason Cruz. Yes I know we have the same first name but it's spelled different and same initials. Ever since 6th grade people referred to me as MC #2, but in the 9th grade my existence became obscure and now i'm barely acknowledged unless its with stares of repellent, or to talk about me behind my back. Glancing at the picture  of Asswipe and his girlfriend Tamara, who actually used to be friends with me back in elementary school up till the 6th grade, but she stopped being my friend due to her being too popular to hang out with MC#2. It was a boring summer of 2015 but I got over it once I befriended Zya my other and better half. Don't get me wrong, he's a nice asshole to look at; I know that sounds wrong but you know what I mean. But I wasn't as sprung as the entire female class of 2021 and even some upperclassmen,

I finally noticed we reached school once kids started to scurry out of their seats and into the isle. My mood quickly declines, up until the 9th grade I loved school and got straight A's but now I just try to get by so I can get the hell out of here. Me and Zya go straight to our 1st period class because we already ate breakfast at home and I hate being late to class, as I've stated before i'm not the star pupil I once was I just hate when you come in late to class and everyones eyeing you like your from another planet or something, although I do feel as if im extraterrestrial I would much prefer it if the whole class didn't gawk until I reach my seat, and if you thought I sat all the way in the back you got it wrong, see I formulated a plan in my mind to become absolutely invisible; well as invisible as humanly possible. I sit in the middle and by sitting in the middle I blend in with the masses and are not in what I call the "Call Zones", which are the front of the class and the back. I get called on rarely which is a lot less than if I were sitting in the Call zones and when I get called on i'm barely audible. Sitting on the floor me and Zya's conversation was interrupted by some b#tch stepping on my shoes, all this space in the fucking hallway thats not even that crowded and someone steps on my shoes. Looking up I see Tamara and her clique walk by and just before she was out of earshot she mumbled something about, moving those long ass vans out of the way. Me i'm not very confrontational and if you say something about me I'd most likely ignore you. I'm not scary or anything i just learned to let things roll off my back like a waterproof mat, a cheesy slogan i came up with back in the 7h grade.

"Did you hear that hoe? So rude, if they didn't jump i'd rip her lace clean off her head." fumed Zya. I had to tell her down girl playfully as if she was a dog, if I don't show that it gets to me it shouldn't get to her,I say. The bell rings and the door is propped open by our teacher Mr.Bacon. "Morning girls, early as always I see." he says letting us in. A couple of minutes after us students start to come in, then the late bell rang and after walked in Tamara, or to me and Zya "Ugly to the 3rd power" and on her arm was asswipe. "Late again Mr. Cruz and
Miss. Williams, you both have one more and you both get after school detention." he says eyeing the clear as day hickey on his neck that he most likely didn't care was showing. Mr. Bacon was our English 2 teacher which was my least hated subject and the class I managed to keep an A average in up until now. And class went by pretty smoothly and it was the last 20 mins and Mr.Bacon had an announcement to make regarding our end of the year project which consists of a 20 slide power point......and you get the idea it was worth our entire 4th quarter grade which was the next and last one. "Now class we briefly spoke about your end of the year project and i told you to fill out these contact cards with your information and now i'm going to pass them out and the number at the top right corner is your number to match with your partner and when you find out who that is you exchange papers and that's your partner with no exception." I roll my eyes, why couldn't he couldn't just let us pick our partners. Suddenly I hear asswipe; "Whoever got number 8 come on!" he yells in typical asshole fashion looking at my paper for the first time I see the lopsided number 8 at the top of my paper and I immediately want to die.