Nikki
I sat in the car, the small vents in the dashboard blowing cool air into my face. My hair gently blew backwards from the air pressure. I leaned over, turning down the cooling system before looking up at my mother. She smiled, nodding at the building in the window behind me. I turned to look again, and I watched as girls gathered out of their sporty cars and ran towards the building laughing. I watched guys leaning on the hoods of the cars, or sitting in the back of the occasional beat-up pick-up truck, laughing with their friends.
I watched, as it seemed, an endless amount of high schools unload the buses across the parking lot. And here I was, sitting in my mother's car, alone.
"Nikki, I'm late for work. You'll be fine," She encouraged, "Go."
I nodded, gripping the handle tightly. I hesitated before I pushed the door open. I swung my jean-covered legs out of the car, one at a time, my white flip flops flattening on the blacktop. I lifted myself up, my long hair cascading over my shoulders as I lifted my pink backpack from the floor mat in the car. I stood up straight, fixing my shirt before turning back towards my mother, and her open window.
"You'll do great, Sweetie. It's just the first day of school. I'll pick you up at three."
"Yeah," I ducked down so I could see my mom, "Thanks Mom."
I stood on the curb, watching her car pull past, another car instantly taking the opportunity to pull up and take her place. For a moment, I simply stood there, sadly watching my mom as she drove away off into the distance. Once she was out of sight, I turned quickly, my feet rushing me towards the large brick building that stood proud in front of me.
As I walked past a group of girls, known as the "Populars", their heads all turned, staring at me with disapproval in their eyes. "Slut," One mouthed, and the others giggled and flipped their hair around.
I couldn't help but remember the first time I'd talk to them. It was burned into the back of my mind, a constant reminder that I, Nikki Sullivan, would never be good enough for them, or anyone else, for that matter.
I ignored them, clutching my schedule tight in my hand as I walked through the school and towards Locker E364. I followed the signs on the wall, desperately trying to remember where that was from my previous experience last year in this very school.
I took careful steps down a hallway, positive that it was the right way. A group of guys, all football players, stood in front of me, blocking my way. I picked through my mind, trying to remember if there was another route that could lead me to where I wanted to go. I couldn't remember, and I figured if I left and came back later, it'd be even more trouble for me then. I'd have to face them now.
I kept my head low, staring at my schedule, reading the same words over and over again--Locker E364--to avoid eye-contact. I tried to walk around them, but one slid in the way. I looked up, giving them my best smile, before stepping around them. Another boy quickly filled the open space. I figured I'd leave, going to the office to ask if someone could escort me there since I couldn't find it. I turned, but two of the guys were standing behind me.
"Hello Nikki," One of their deep voices spoke to me, laughing, "Or should we say hello whore."
"Let me through." I tried to make my voice sound strong, but I lacked the confidence. I was terrified of these guys.
They all laughed, and one leaned into me, my small defenseless body slamming into the lockers beside me.
I ducked around them, walking down the hallway, refusing to look back at them as their voices echoed towards me, shooting like rockets through the emptiness of the space.
"You're fat!" "No guy would everdate such an ugly girl!" "Ew, she's so gross! She makes me want to puke!"
Fat. Ugly. Whore. Slut. Fat. Ugly. Whore. Slut.
I turned the corner quickly, escaping the words that were being called after me. Although, the words continued to echo through my head. I was worthless. They were right, all of them were. Who would want to date me? They were words I had heard countless times, and I believed every one of them.
I found my locker after several more minutes of searching the long narrow, locker-filled hallways. I slid the backpack from my shoulders, and it crashed to the ground at my feet. I twisted the small dial carefully, reading the numbers off of the small paper in my tight grip. It opened, and I kneeled down in front of my locker, sorting through my backpack to put everything in my new locker.
Two girls walked past, laughing, and one mumbled, "Look, she's on her knees again." While it was nothing I hadn't heard recently, that was definitely the harshest words, coming from a girl I concidered my friend since I was seven. Last year, however, we had stopped talking. She'd ditched me for some new girl. She was "prettier" and "thinner" and "worth more". Again, I was just worthless, ugly, and fat.
I sorted through my backpack, undoing a package of pencils and sliding them into a pink pencil case. The locker to the right of me opened, and a girl looked at me like I was a dirty old penny laying in a parking lot, tail-side-up. She put away her books quickly, tossing everything into a disheveled mess. A few friends came over and started talking, one of them kicking me by "accident". They left, staring at me and giggling. I heard the same three words: Ugly. Fat. Worthless.
I finished up my locker as quickly as possible, grabbing what I needed for first period and closing the door as a group of students passed. It was a mixture between the "Populars" and the football players that I had ran into earlier.
"Slut."
"Whore."
"She's so ugly."
"She's like, a cow. She's so fat."
I looked down at my body, making a mental comment to myself to ignore them. 107 pounds wasn't fat, was it? According to them it was, even though I happened to find out that the head girl wsa 113 pounds. They had decided, though, that I was fat. I was ugly, even though I had high cheek bones, light blue eyes, and long brown hair.
I was worthless though. Who would ever date me?
"Shield your eyes!"
"The monster's looking at us!"
"Ew!"
And I just stood there, looking into my locker, my back towards them. The usual groups of students noticed me standing there as they walked by and greeted me by laughing and staring and pointing. It wasn't everyone; it was just two main groups of people, but when it came to being made fun of, it felt like everyone. As I stood there, I felt a tear drip down my face. I couldn't let them see it; I couldn't let them see my pain. I wouldn't let them see how much they were getting to me, and how badly their words hurt me. But all the same, in that moment, more than any other, I wanted to be dead.
Trenton
"'Sup, Thomas?" I called to one of my best friends as I climbed out of my black '98 Acura, which I had taken the time to get washed the previous day. After all, it was the first day of the new school year, so I wanted my car to look as nice and shiny as possible. Thomas was one of my best friends; we had been friends since childhood. He was about six feet tall, skinny, and not very muscular; he had dark hair and bright blue eyes.
"Hey, man." Thomas called back as he walked up to me.
"Is Gage here?" I asked him as he approached me.
"I haven't seen him yet."
"Randy?"
Haven't seen him yet, either."
"Dang. Well, how's your summer been?"
"Good. Yours?"
"Good. So, you excited about school?"
"Kind of, I guess."
"Oh, yeeeeah!" a loud voice cried out suddenly. I thought I recognized that voice, and, sure enough, moments later, one of my best friends, Gage, came barreling up to us. Gage was a chubby guy, to say the least, although he had a great sense of humor about his weight and, at times, claimed that he was merely 'big boned'. He had dark brown hair and was about my height, 5'9" tall.
His eyes were a light brown, and he was one of the nicest and funniest guys one could ever meet. "'Sup, Gage?" I called to him as he continued to run towards Thomas and me. For a big guy, he was a surprisingly fast runner.
"Hey, buddy!" Gage yelled as he ran up, threw his arms around Thomas, and squeezed him.
"Dude!" Thomas yelled as he was nearly crushed in Gage's arms. Gage quickly released him, leaving Thomas to cough and gasp for breath.
"Hey, man. How was your summer?" I asked him, tensing slightly in fear that he was going to squeeze me, as well. Fortunately, he didn't.
"Great! I was in Texas with my cousin most of the time." Gage replied loudly.
"Sweet. Hey, have you seen Randy anywhere yet?" I asked.
"Nope. Have you?"
"No."
"Bummer."
"Bummer." Thomas said, mocking the way that Gage had said it.
"Does somebody need a hug?!" Gage yelled.
"No!" But it was too late. Gage threw his arms around Thomas and squeezed him again. "Gage! Stop! Gage! Gage!" Thomas said as he was crushed once again in Gage's arms.
"All right, easy, man. Easy. It's the first day of school. You don't want to kill the guy already." I cut in after a moment, laughing as I spoke.
"Aw... Fine." Gage agreed as he released Thomas again. Just then, the five minute warning bell rang, so we rushed inside to get to our lockers and make it to class on time.