Raphael sat in front of me looking like he had simply stepped off the catwalk. He was pure hotness, as always. "Baby, you rock my world! Never have I wanted to be someone's man as I desire to be yours; I'm nothing without you, Harriet."
I slammed the book shut and pushed it away.
I'm not Harriet, I'm Gracie Carteri. I'm seventeen and the most unpopular girl in the world-what could be worse than that? It could be a lot worse. Who was I to complain? I mean, it's not like it bothers me anymore.
I have the best parents ever. Yes, they comfort me with all the love, affection, conversation a girl needs, but at times I just wish I was a part of that clique group, or even a social butterfly.
But, no! I'm just plain old me. I think my only chance of that would be to dye my hair lime green or magenta pink. I giggled inwardly.
Mum and Dad try to comfort me, saying I'm not any of those things that I think about myself; but it just doesn't help. They're biased; I'm almost 5ft 10 with a wide frame; long legs. I have long flowing dark brown hair, but what sets off my whole look is my blue eyes. I have a slight birthmark on my left cheek Mum says I was kissed by an angel the day I was born. Which, if I'm honest, isn't all that bad, but others seem to think I look hideous. It sticks in my mind. So I've gotten to the point now where I get nervous about going out, even just to a shop in case people stare.
Ever heard of a girl hiding away? Well I do, in black normally, hiding in others' shadows. Or I just stay indoors, dancing to YouTube music videos, reading my mountain of books, or creating Gracieland, wherever that may be. Over the years, I've also created a boyfriend-of- the-week system; this seems to work out pretty well actually.
Books are very much my favourite pastime. Imagining I'm the actual lead role in them, but not just any character: the leading lady in Romance novels or the one who got bitten in the vampire books.
I also enjoy daydreaming a lot, making myself look how I want to look to fit in, being a part of something bigger and better.
See, society today assumes you have to look a certain way to fit in. Well, you know what I say when they assume-they make an ass out of you and me.
I turned round to look at my bed, where Mum had neatly folded my uniform.
I had school in an hour, but I really didn't want to go; I was quite happy daydreaming.
I was at a fancy dress party with some really fit guy having a slow dance... A girl can dream, right? I giggled to myself. Life was so much easier when I was a baby or even a toddler maybe.
I never had to worry about trying to make friends or fit in; I may have once had friends, but it was one of a very faint memory if I'm honest.
When I started nursery, it was a different matter. I felt like the odd one out from day one. I was a lot bigger than the other children, so kids noticed, making remarks I never fully understood, but it did make me feel uncomfortable, feeling somewhat out of place. However, nothing I did to try to fit in made one bit of difference.
It never got any easier. I was hoping things would but in fact, it just got worse; the torment and bullying started the very first day I attended primary school. I started to believe the things they were saying, like, "Go back to fat land." Was there such a place? Would I be accepted there?
They would trip me, bursting out laughing with their friends, jeering, making comments like, "It won't hurt you; you'll just bounce or roll." Where did kids learn such nasty things.
I would never hurt anyone like that. It's just cruel. I was becoming more and more withdrawn, spending time in teachers' rooms, or in the toilet.
I never ate at school either, god forbid the reactions or comments I would get. I never made any friends, nor did I want to. I really think it was for the best, no matter how much it pained me to be so alone.
I spent the first six years of my school life alone, hating who I once thought I was, not believing a word my parents said when they complimented me.
I suppose as time went on I started growing a thick skin. I started not giving a hoo hah what other people thought of me. Maybe that was the best way, the way others behaved. Maybe it would also work for me.
"Gracie, are you nearly ready? It's 8:45. You've got 40 minutes and we've got to get going."
Mum slouched in the doorway. Her curvacious frame taking up half of it. My mum had always been the same size really...but it suited her. She had mid length black cury hair, her soft curls sculpted her heart shaped face. What I always found so mesmerizing about my mum was her iridescent blue eyes, they held a beautiful story behind them, I was sure of it. She stood there smiling with a whisk in her hand. I on the other hand was still in my dressing gown after taking a shower. "Yeah Mum, just got my hair and makeup to do, get dressed, then I'm done."
"Ok, sweetie, hurry up." She shut my door behind her and walked back downstairs.
I have been attending the Christ Church Academy in Oxford for the last few months. Where most of the teachers seem far too young to have endured 3 years at college to become a professor. What can I say? It's very snooty-booty with jumped-up brats, social butterflies, jocks, fit guys, and me.
I stick out like a pea on a drum, but because of my harsh treatment, I don't give a damn anymore, so why am I even worried about putting makeup on? It's not like anyone takes any notice of me.
I'm an A+ student. I don't flunk. Sometimes I'm even the teacher's pet, especially for one in particular! I can give wrong answers and he still say's, "Correct." What's the deal with that? I giggled to myself. That's about it. Today will be no different.
After I apply a little makeup on and spritz myself in perfume, I walk downstairs.
Mum was in the kitchen. I could hear the banging of cupboard doors, as I got down nearer the bottom the aromas drifted up to meet me. I knew straight away what my taste buds would be savouring. Mum was making my favourite: pancakes! Her pancakes simply were the best; they just melted on your tongue. I recommend these whenever you feel low.
As I drizzled maple syrup over them I imagined how good Raphael would taste, oh my! Back in the room Gracie! Your not reading a book now. Instead, I devoured each one of them as if they were going out of fashion, trying not to think too hard.
I finished off my plate in record time as I always do, sliding my finger across a bit of maple syrup that tried to escape me. After making sure the plate was clean I kissed my Mum and walked out the front door, into the dog eat dog world.
The day was like any other this week, it was bright, breezy and everyone down my road was walking in the same direction as me, to school. Oh how I wish I had a bloody car. I would always get there first instead of last. Out the corner of my eye I spotted Miyah Jackson walking towards me with her head down to the ground. She bumped into me, almost knocking the wind out of me, and she looked up to see me standing there.
Miyah was smaller compared to the other girls in school, her dirty blonde hair was scraped away from her tiny face into a high bun. Her brown eyes were muddy and lifeless, I couldn't see her complexion through the thick layers of make up and bright red lipstick. All I knew was something was very off with this girl.
"Oh I'm sorry. She said. "It's Gracie, right?" I nodded in response, she smiled. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to bump into you, I was miles away." She carried on walking, what was that? Miyah apologized? I thought I was going to faint. It's funny when they aren't in their click they treat you ok. Maybe it's a code or something; attack the curvy girl when we're together, that way we can flank each other.
As I got to the gates I stared at the building in front of me. This school always creeped me out, it reminded of all those programs I watched where it was haunted.
It was a very big building enclosed by a high wall with railing all the way round. It gave off the feeling of entrapment. Don't get me wrong, the school was very grand, it was founded in 1546, the Paget era, whilst the Italian war was still active.
It had very high ceilings, thick wooden beams spanning the entire range. The dining hall was epic with 3 long tables which spread the whole length, the room I loved the most was defenaitly the library, it was so big it would literally fit the whole football pitch in it no problem. This is where I began reading about Shakespeare and the Bronte sisters for the first time.
Oh damn I'm late again...I spit out my gum before heading inside. I hated this school no more than the rest, but this is now, in fact, my fourth school in a year, this was getting boring. It's fair to say we've moved a lot.
Oxford, thankfully though was the last stop. This seemed like a good school On a plus, they were studying the languages I wanted to learn. Luckily my first lesson was French.
Walking into the overflowing but damp room, I spot Jo Frost looking up at me, tapping the table next to her. I think she's like a fairy godmother or something, taking in the rejects. I went and sat down next to her, smiling. "Thanks." Well, I had to be polite. She smiled. Woah she was beautiful. She was around 5 feet 6 inches, with long flowing white blonde hair that, Just like my mum it was her ice blue eyes that captivated me. The icy blueness generated a feeling like she was being pulled into a lake of frozen emotions. Jo's complexion was flawless with just the right amount of rose tint to it, her full lips were pursed with a glossy sheen of clear gloss. She was absolutely breathtaking. If I ever become a lesbian... I would like one just like her, she smiled again.
"No worries, girl. Anytime." She said. I think we both just shared a moment, it felt warm and fuzzy, just then Mrs Parish walked in, she went straight to the blackboard.
Writing in big white writing, she wrote: "Quels sont tes passe-temps?" she was asking us what our hobbies are. Well, I had quite a few, so from what I had already learnt, I figured out what I was going to say.
When it got to me she spoke clearly, "Gracie, Quels sont tes passe-temps?" I replied straight away, telling her that my hobbies are music, school even though that was a lie, but also animals. "Mes hobbies sont l'ecole de musique et Animaux I heard a giggle from behind. "Sure it ain't food?" I turned round to see Jose Hernandez looking at me smirking.
I took it on the chin laughing, but as always inside I was shaking. "Why? You wanna share your lunchbox with me, little boy?" the girl next to him laughed.
"I think you just got told." She giggled, she gave me a slight wink. That gesture alone made me feel great.
Yeah, I had to admit it, I was getting kinda brave, sod them! I owed them nothing.
I turned back to Mrs Parish, waiting for the scolding for disrupting her lesson. But, nothing! She, in fact, didn't say a word. We carried on the lesson like nothing happened. The end of the lesson couldn't have come quicker for me. I headed out straight into maths.
I walked in noticing someone I hadn't seen before. He was extremely easy on the eyes. He had this incredible mop of brown hair, so dark it was almost black. His eyes were illuminating, but mysterious at the same time, as I got closer I noticed they were a deep brown, they set his whole face alight. This lad was the first one I had seen with extreme facial hair on his Adonis-like chiselled face. I must admit it made him look too old to be attending any school. This gorgeous guy was swarmed by girls like bees to honey. They seemed to know him, the guys were asking him how his summer was, he must be an exchange student or had he simply spent his semester away. Then I realised it was me who was new, not him.
I sat down at my desk two rows behind him. From behind he was just as good, he was muscular, his hair was stylishly cut. I could see why the girls swarmed, he was hot and dreamy. A bit like Raphael, the lead man in my book I've been reading.
Equation, after equation, was flying around the room at random people. Turns out the guy's name was Leighton Crow. I liked his name, it rolled so easily on my tongue. It turns out he had been traveling all first semester.
I was looking at him from behind when Mr Nash called my name, "Gracie, what's 2x + 7 = 13 - 2x?" He smiled.
Let's try another wrong answer. Watch this, I giggled to myself. "Eleven, sir"
"Correct, Gracie well done."
I looked down at my maths book feeling a little proud of the reaction but laughing inside at the same time. All those late nights studying, putting in hard word just for me to give a wrong answer, but to get it right.
I don't always give wrong answers, but it wouldn't matter anyway. Mr Nash would say I was correct even if it was incorrect. What was wrong with this picture? Somethings weird. He smiled at me.
I looked away from Mr Nash to see Leighton was looking at me. I looked at him blankly, a smile formed upon his lips. It was a gorgeous smile.
I couldn't help but smile back, it was infectious, "Mr Crow, eyes back in the room, please!
He turned back around, "Sorry, sir."
Was he really smiling at me? He must have been as there was no one behind me. I've sat at the back of this classroom since I came here, that way I don't have to worry about other's behind me, oh my god, that fit boy smiled at me! I felt pretty good.
The bell rang for lunch, everyone got up, and crowds formed around Leighton again, almost carrying him out the room for a catchup. He blatantly stopped at the door to look at me and smile. I felt my legs go weak. Ooh, Mummy! And just like that, he was gone.