Part One- Life is...Perfect
The short sleeves of his blue cotton teeshirt allowed the world to see his beautiful, muscular arms. He opened them, flashing the grin that every girl seemed to love, and locked me in an embrace that was protectively tight but comfortingly gentle. "I love you, Beautiful," he whispered tenderly, his breath warm against my neck as it carried the scent of mint to my nose. He nuzzled against my hair, murmmering words of pleasure as he enjoyed the smell of strawberry shampoo and expensive perfume. I felt the warmth of his body through his letterman that fit me, though the sleeves were about a foot too long and the zipper was way past my thighs.
He pulled away and admired me adoringly, his green eyes tender and loving, pooling and sparkling with love and wonder. We looked up from each other's gazes to to see adoring fans were already beginng to circle around us. Their whispers and comments were always the same, and we had grown used to them. They're the perfect couple. They love each other...truly. Matt, when he heard this, would look at me, silently telling me with his eyes that this was true. Without speaking, he could make me feel beautiful, loved, cherished, and adored. He's so perfect...so cute. She's the luckiest girl in the world.
I always agreed; sometimes aloud, sometimes silently. Life was perfect. You see, the scene that just took place, the whispers, the tender words, the heavenly embraces...that was how I was greeted every morning. Matt was perfect. He loved me more than anything, and I didn't deserve it. Even during those scenes when we're locked in each other's arms, my heart is telling me that this isn't right. Every girl wanted Matt McFarland, with his beautiful body, his sparkling green eyes, and his adorable Irish accent.
Everyday, I reminded myself how lucky I was. I told myself that I lived the fairytale life of every teenage girl. I was Head Cheerleader and Homecoming Queen for the third year in a row. My best friends, a collection of girls from the squad and from the community service clubs I had joined, were already pooling together, prepared to carry me into the position of Prom Queen for my Senior year. I turned eighteen in November and I was engaged to the school's most wonderful boy. I was in love, truly, and I was supposed to be happy. Nothing was supposed to be wrong.
My heart didn't agree. I don't know why. Some days, I would tear myself up inside, telling myself that I was the luckiest girl in the world, but something... something just didn't feel right. I felt empty, stretched out, like I was an image, not a person. My life didn't feel as though it meant everything, but the kids who filled the halls of my high school thought otherwise.
Matt took my hand and admired the ring I was wearing. "Nothing could be as beautiful as you. It is pale in comparison." He touched the slope of my cheek, kissed me softly on the lips, muttering goodbye but refusing to pull away. As always, I took my arms and pushed him away, seperating us for the day."See you in band," he whispered, smiling softly as he realized this was routine.
I replied with a soft smile and a nod before heading towards my first class. Kendall and Ginger followed closely behind me in our normal formation. Kendall is like a beautiful Greek sculpture, subtly shaped and perfectly smooth. Her eyes, a pastel, greenish-gray, remind me of the opal earrings my mother had brought me for my seventeenth birthday. She is tall, lean, and elegant, always maintaining perfect posture and a walk that belongs on the runway. Ginger is a little different. She is short, about 5'2 or 5'3, and she is one of the cutest things I have ever seen. Her hair, a mix between brown and red, is short and naturally curly, adding to her Shirley Temple charm. She has a button nose and an amazing collection of freckles. Her chest is modest, but the boys didn't care. She makes up for her lacking, in bra size and in height, with her sweet smiles and her genuine kindness.
We made our way down the hallway, all three of us dressed in our boyfriends' lettermans, each reading Briar County Football on the black in silver block letters. Our hair was pulled up in a ponytail, tied up with ribbons of silver and blue, our school colors. We wore the same color of blush because we always go shopping together, and whatever I like, they seem to like too. Our lipgloss always matches, and we shop at the same stores. We have different styles though. Kendall, being as sleek and beautiful as she is, likes to reveal more skin. Her wardrobe is made of up halter tops and belly-shirts, low-rise jeans and thongs. Ginger has sort of a cute style to her. She wears warm sweaters covered with cardigans, light- colored khakis and underwear that's a little more innocent than Kendall's. Me? I grew up as a tomboy, and I still am. A loose-fitting, comfortable pair of brandname jeans and a logo tee is just fine for me. I'm not telling you what kind of underwear I wear. That's just wrong. I'll just reveal my friends' unmentionables instead of my own.
We split up as I head into English 4, Ginger heads to her Theatrical Arts class, and Kendall skips her World History class to make out with her boyfriend David just outside the library. We have it all figured out. I'm the brains, Ginger is the culture, and Kendall is the whore inside of us that is just begging to be released.
I slipped inside and took my seat, pulling out my purple notebook and my purple pen. Purple is my favorite color, the color of the cotton teeshirt I was wearing that day under Matt's enormous letterman. I crossed my legs, taking satisfaction as the heels of my sandals tangled towards the floor. I looked up to notice a boy smiling at me. I smiled back and began chewing on my pen, reading over the story. It was about a girl who was perfect on the outside, but she had secrets, secrets she was hiding from the entire world.
Someone looming over me cast a shadow on my paper and I turned around to look. "I would like to know your secrets," he said softly. It was as if he saw right through me, and as hard as it is to believe, he had. He was the boy who would change me forever.
The short sleeves of his blue cotton teeshirt allowed the world to see his beautiful, muscular arms. He opened them, flashing the grin that every girl seemed to love, and locked me in an embrace that was protectively tight but comfortingly gentle. "I love you, Beautiful," he whispered tenderly, his breath warm against my neck as it carried the scent of mint to my nose. He nuzzled against my hair, murmmering words of pleasure as he enjoyed the smell of strawberry shampoo and expensive perfume. I felt the warmth of his body through his letterman that fit me, though the sleeves were about a foot too long and the zipper was way past my thighs.
He pulled away and admired me adoringly, his green eyes tender and loving, pooling and sparkling with love and wonder. We looked up from each other's gazes to to see adoring fans were already beginng to circle around us. Their whispers and comments were always the same, and we had grown used to them. They're the perfect couple. They love each other...truly. Matt, when he heard this, would look at me, silently telling me with his eyes that this was true. Without speaking, he could make me feel beautiful, loved, cherished, and adored. He's so perfect...so cute. She's the luckiest girl in the world.
I always agreed; sometimes aloud, sometimes silently. Life was perfect. You see, the scene that just took place, the whispers, the tender words, the heavenly embraces...that was how I was greeted every morning. Matt was perfect. He loved me more than anything, and I didn't deserve it. Even during those scenes when we're locked in each other's arms, my heart is telling me that this isn't right. Every girl wanted Matt McFarland, with his beautiful body, his sparkling green eyes, and his adorable Irish accent.
Everyday, I reminded myself how lucky I was. I told myself that I lived the fairytale life of every teenage girl. I was Head Cheerleader and Homecoming Queen for the third year in a row. My best friends, a collection of girls from the squad and from the community service clubs I had joined, were already pooling together, prepared to carry me into the position of Prom Queen for my Senior year. I turned eighteen in November and I was engaged to the school's most wonderful boy. I was in love, truly, and I was supposed to be happy. Nothing was supposed to be wrong.
My heart didn't agree. I don't know why. Some days, I would tear myself up inside, telling myself that I was the luckiest girl in the world, but something... something just didn't feel right. I felt empty, stretched out, like I was an image, not a person. My life didn't feel as though it meant everything, but the kids who filled the halls of my high school thought otherwise.
Matt took my hand and admired the ring I was wearing. "Nothing could be as beautiful as you. It is pale in comparison." He touched the slope of my cheek, kissed me softly on the lips, muttering goodbye but refusing to pull away. As always, I took my arms and pushed him away, seperating us for the day."See you in band," he whispered, smiling softly as he realized this was routine.
I replied with a soft smile and a nod before heading towards my first class. Kendall and Ginger followed closely behind me in our normal formation. Kendall is like a beautiful Greek sculpture, subtly shaped and perfectly smooth. Her eyes, a pastel, greenish-gray, remind me of the opal earrings my mother had brought me for my seventeenth birthday. She is tall, lean, and elegant, always maintaining perfect posture and a walk that belongs on the runway. Ginger is a little different. She is short, about 5'2 or 5'3, and she is one of the cutest things I have ever seen. Her hair, a mix between brown and red, is short and naturally curly, adding to her Shirley Temple charm. She has a button nose and an amazing collection of freckles. Her chest is modest, but the boys didn't care. She makes up for her lacking, in bra size and in height, with her sweet smiles and her genuine kindness.
We made our way down the hallway, all three of us dressed in our boyfriends' lettermans, each reading Briar County Football on the black in silver block letters. Our hair was pulled up in a ponytail, tied up with ribbons of silver and blue, our school colors. We wore the same color of blush because we always go shopping together, and whatever I like, they seem to like too. Our lipgloss always matches, and we shop at the same stores. We have different styles though. Kendall, being as sleek and beautiful as she is, likes to reveal more skin. Her wardrobe is made of up halter tops and belly-shirts, low-rise jeans and thongs. Ginger has sort of a cute style to her. She wears warm sweaters covered with cardigans, light- colored khakis and underwear that's a little more innocent than Kendall's. Me? I grew up as a tomboy, and I still am. A loose-fitting, comfortable pair of brandname jeans and a logo tee is just fine for me. I'm not telling you what kind of underwear I wear. That's just wrong. I'll just reveal my friends' unmentionables instead of my own.
We split up as I head into English 4, Ginger heads to her Theatrical Arts class, and Kendall skips her World History class to make out with her boyfriend David just outside the library. We have it all figured out. I'm the brains, Ginger is the culture, and Kendall is the whore inside of us that is just begging to be released.
I slipped inside and took my seat, pulling out my purple notebook and my purple pen. Purple is my favorite color, the color of the cotton teeshirt I was wearing that day under Matt's enormous letterman. I crossed my legs, taking satisfaction as the heels of my sandals tangled towards the floor. I looked up to notice a boy smiling at me. I smiled back and began chewing on my pen, reading over the story. It was about a girl who was perfect on the outside, but she had secrets, secrets she was hiding from the entire world.
Someone looming over me cast a shadow on my paper and I turned around to look. "I would like to know your secrets," he said softly. It was as if he saw right through me, and as hard as it is to believe, he had. He was the boy who would change me forever.