Oli Sykes: Part Two
When I had gotten home that day, I remember looking in the mirror, and balling my eyes out. I remember crying at the sight I saw, with that one part in that one sentence ringing in my head. "...You've got the most unattractive girl in school..." I ripped off my baggy boyish clothes, and I took my long hair out of the messy bun it was tied in. I studied myself real hard, and told myself I shouldn't change for a stupid boy. But, I am a girl, and girls just don't forget about those nasty comments. Especially when it was coming from the boy she really, really liked.
Well, since then, I changed. Alot. And in a weird way, I would like to thank Oliver. He helped me change, and even though he did it in hurtful words, I couldn't help but think that he was just incredibly blunt. No matter how mean or hurtful he knew his comments may have been. I suppose I liked that about him, how he was so honest. But, I don't think honestly is really always good, not if it could really hurt someone. Or maybe, it is good, because although you may be hurting someone, it's the truth. You get it all the time, right? Your friends always saying "Tell me the truth!" And, the truth is fantastic when it's good. But, when it's bad, as in "I don't really think those jeans suit you." or "He's just playing you." Then, your friends go balistic. But they said they wanted the truth, so why are they getting mad about it?
Anyways, when I got to highschool, in grade nine, Oliver was still there. Oh, I hated looking at his face, which was always smeared in a smirk. His smirk, I think it haunted me. I ignored the rude comments him and his friends made. It seemed like ever since that day in grade eight, they never really left me alone. No one liked me at school, I was alone. I had no friends to stick up for me, and no boys even glanced at me. But, in grade nine, I wasn't given enough time to change myself physically. Meaning, I was still pretty 'unattractive'.
Then, in the summer of grade nine, it gave me time, I had been working on my appearence the whole year. So, in the summer, I put my plans to work. In the morning, I ate a cereal bar, or an apple, and headed out for a jog. I always skipped lunch, ate a small dinner, and did fifty sit ups anda fifty crunches. I needed to lose the stomach. Slowly, I began buying make up, and after the first week of summer, I was highly addicted to it. My saviors were: My eyeliner, my eye lash curler, my mascara. Those are the only things I really relied on, and some days, I would put a little eyeshadow on. I became pretty good at doing my make up and hair.
I was really excited when school started back up in my grade ten year. I had lost weight, and my stomach was nice from all the crunches. I begged my mother to let me get my belly pierced, and she gave in. My hair was my favorite thing ever, and I loved to play around with it, and my make up just topped it all off. I was so excited to see what Oliver would say when I went up to him and grade ten. I worked my whole summer just so I could go back, and see his bewildered face when he saw the new me.
But, that never happened.
He never saw the new me. Why?
Because he changed schools.
I was upset at first, that he wouldn't see my drastic change. I wanted so badly for him to take back all the stuff he and his friends had said. Then I realized that I didn't really do this for him. I did this for me. And, although my confidence never returned, I somehow felt...better.
October 9th. [Now; Grade eleven]
I sat in my math class, bored as hell. I rested my head on my hand and stared dully at the clock. Everytime I looked at it, the hands seemed to stop and laugh at me, saying "haha, you still have two more classes left!" I growled my response, and sunk down in my seat. I looked straight a head at the person in front of me, allowing my eyes to keep a very steady stare at the back of the boys head. I wanted so badly to kick his head, and asked him if he recognized me.
No, it wasn't Oliver. It was his friend.The same friend that said I was the most unattractive girl in school. Before I could rip my gaze from him, he turned around with a hard glare on his face.
"What?" He asked rudely, before he really even looked at me. I never answered. When he finally, actually looked at me, he smiled.
"What?" I mimicked him, pretty annoyed.
"Hello, hon." He greeted. I rolled my eyes. Why did he come in the middle of first semster? He never used to be in this class, now this losertard sits in front of me.
"Leave me alone, will you, Matt?" I grumbled. He seemed taken back, perhaps stunned that I knew his name?
"Do I know you?"
"Oh, you only tormented me for being 'ugly' for about two and a half years." I turned my attention to my math books, pretending I was interested in the complicated equasion sprawled out in front of me.
"Holy shit..." He gasped, "Aimee?!" I simply nodded. Then he gasped again, "No way! Aimee Sparks!? My god. You've...changed."
"Mhm." I hummed, still looking down at my math work. I let a smirk spread across my lips as he turned around mumbling:
"I have got to call Oli. I have got to call him."
CMNTS?!
