Author's note: I'm rewriting a story I wrote on my other account (LiLAuthoress346). I deleted the old one...but...yeaa...The chapters might be a little shorter sometimes because each chapter is another character's point of view (POV)...Anyways....R&R me, I'll R&R you.
Playing By the Rules
When I was 13, all I wanted was a group. A few people that I could call my own, rely on, some people that would pick me up when I fell. A group was something I craved with every fiber of my being, from my Happy Bunny T-shirt to my Hot Topic Shoelaces.
Of course, I had a few friends. A group. My group consisted of two girls and three guys that I never actually felt I belonged to. They always seemed to have something I was lacking in that I couldn't put my finger on. Sometimes, when I had some confidence, I felt like I was superior and they just couldn't match up.
What didn't help was the fact that I hated myself. I was ugly. My light brown hair seemed thick and bushy, my skin was too dry, my brown eyes too far apart. There was nothing about me I couldn't find something wrong with. It was almost as though my own criticism kept me happy. Even my height (4'10) was a problem. Everyone said my height made me cute. I felt like it made me huge.
Everyone. That was my major problem. Everyone who told me I looked fine. I had always hated liars, had always thought that the truth couldn't hurt worse then thinking otherwise, only to be proved wrong. The thing was, everyone was always lying. Telling me I wasn't fat, my hair looked good. I knew better. I knew how they'd smile at me, then snicker with one another. Although I handled teasing well, it had more of an effect on me then some people realized.
Naturally, not only did I want a group, I had one picked out. Roxie and her friends. They were known as the more 'gangster' type in my school, and I felt an attraction to them. They were real, and known for being brutally honest, even-no, especially-when it hurt. This group, it appeared to me, was the epitome of cool. It was more then the clothes, more then the fact that because my school banned hats, they wore red wristbands. It was the way they belonged to one another. Their friendship was a steel wall nothing would be able to break. At least, that's how it looked.
Usually, during lunch, my friends would joke around, and I would sort of watch Roxie, like I was watching an insect in a glass cage. I could get just close enough to hear and listen, but never close enough to bother her. Then, one day, she bothered me.
"Poor Eddie!" Marissa, one of the girls in my group, was laughing. My friends were in the middle of having a funeral for a broken pencil named Eddie The Elf. They found this amusing, I was mortified. I was about to tell them to stop when I felt a tap on my shoulder. "Hey" Roxie said smoothly. I blinked, to make sure it was her. It was. Her light celery reen eyes were piercing mine. "Hi" I managed. "I was wondering...." She twirled a strand of dark brown hair around her index finger. "Would you be interested in meeting me and my people at the Wall after school today?" I nearly fell off my chair. "Me? You guys? The wall?" I couldn't help myself. "I-I'll be there" Roxie nodded. "Cool" "Yupp" "So, I'll see you then" "See you" I repeated, suddenly in a very happy daze. Roxie wanted to hang out with me. Me. Me. Me. I couldn't stop repeating her exact words, I wanted to remember them, imprint them on the inside of my mind, paint them on my wall.
....Next Chapter....Roxie's POV....if you review . Tell me what you think...R&R me, I'll R&R you.