AN: Hello there, lovelies! This is just something that's been stuck in my head for months now, and I just wanted to let it out before I forget about it. I actually wrote this a week ago, but my computer didn't save it and I was upset about it that I didn't want to write it again … Until now.

This is rated T for language.



"Our show is about starting over."Jai Rodriguez



Twelve Years Ago . . .

"Your eyes are so weird," a pretty young blond girl stated. "They change colors all the time. That's not normal."

The other little girl whom she was talking to looked down at her leather black Mary Jane shoes, biting the bottom of her strawberry red lips.

"B – But Mommy said that my eyes are really pretty," the girl spoke in a soft, low voice. "She said that they're unique, because not a lot of people have these eyes."

The blond snorted. "She's your mom, Maisie. She's supposed to tell you that. But I'm your best friend, and I'm supposed to tell you the truth. That's what my sister told me. That's what makes a true friend. Besides, didn't your daddy say that you need glasses?"

The other girl, Maisie, nodded her head. Her golden chocolate brown wavy hair lightly bounced with every nod.

"I don't need to cover up my eyes, because everyone tells me that they look very beautiful." The blond said haughtily as she began to flutter her deep ocean blue eyes. "See what I mean? It's not just my family that tells me that, but everyone tells me how gorgeous my eyes are! That's how you know that you don't need to hide them, kind of like your eyes."

"O – Okay then," she said slowly, unsure.

"You should get glasses to cover them up," the blond continued. "The big ones, too, you should get those."

"But I don't want the big ones …"

The blond stood with her hands on her hips. "Well, you need to get them to cover up the wrinkle lines your getting around your eyes."

Maisie's 'ugly' blue-green eyes dilated. She looked up at her 'friend' in surprise. "But Daddy said that you can't get crinkles at this age. It's improbable!"

"Im-po-ssi-ble," the blond slowly said, pronouncing each syllable properly. "And it's not crinkles, its wrinkles! Don't you know how to speak English right?"

Maisie looked back down at the marbled floor.

"Well? Are you going to get the glasses or what?"

"I'm a get the glasses," Maisie said in a low voice. So low, that it was barely audible. One would have to strain their ears just to hear the young child, but her 'friend' heard her loud and clear.

The blond smirked, satisfied, and said, "See, Maisie? This is what I'm here for. I'm here to help you improve more, right?"

"Right, Cindy."


Six Years Ago . . .

"Hey Maisie, do you want to go out with me?" a cute dimpled boy asked.

Maisie gaped at him, shocked. "M – Me?" she asked.

The boy nodded.

"But … Why? I'm not … pretty." She said, remembering the words that Cindy had told her about a week ago.

"You're not very pretty, you know that?" Cindy stated. "You'll be lucky to even have a guy talk to you."

The boy cocked his head to the side like a dog. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that I'm not very … appealing, like Cindy. So … Why? Why do you want to go out with … me?"

The boy chortled; it reminded Maisie of dying goats. "Well, I'm asking you out, because …" he paused for dramatic effect. A smile formed on his plump lips. "You have really beautiful hair. I really like the color and they look nice! And Stacy said that you have a crush on me, too!"

Maisie froze. She looked at him with bug eyes.

Cindy must have told her that, Maisie didn't tell anyone except for Cindy.

"So?" the boy asked. "Do you want to go out with me or not?"

"I – I – I," Maisie stuttered. She was at a loss for words.

"I – I – I – I – I," a voice behind them mocked.

"Get the hell out of my face, Stacy!" the boy snapped, looking annoyed.

Stacy snorted. She rolled her pretty green eyes, and flipped her curly black hair. "Whatever," she said. But she obeyed by spinning her heels and walking towards the other direction. Before she completely disappeared, she called out, "I have better things to do, moron!"

The boy heaved a sigh.

Maisie looked back at him with a curious gaze.

"Well, what about it?" he asked, once again.

"I – I'll think about," she said, deciding that that was the best move for her to make.

The boy flashed a cheeky grin at her, his dimples showing. "Great, I'll talk to you tomorrow then. Bye!" he called out as he began to walk backwards, towards a black car that was currently honking at him to hurry up.

He opened the door, and raised an arm at her and waved before going inside.


The following morning, Maisie walked around her middle school to search for the cute dimpled boy. She had decided to say yes after talking about it with Cindy last night over the phone. After fifteen minutes of futile searching, she decided to go to her homeroom.

She had him there at that period. She could tell him her answer.

She couldn't wait to see his face once she accepted his request to go out with her. Just the thought of it made Maisie want to squeal in delight. Her first boyfriend!

When she was nearing her homeroom, she heard a girl giggle.

"Oh, oh, Jack! Jack, stop! Stop! Not here, Jack, there are cameras in this school."

Maisie's body stiffened the second she saw the scene unfolding before her eyes. Her best friend, Cindy, was leaning against the wall between the lockers. The cute dimpled boy who had asked her out the day before was currently pressed against the blond girl, his arms wrapped around her waist.

The two pre-teens froze once they realized that she was there.

"M – Maisie," the boy said, surprised. He quickly unwrapped his arms around the blond whose sparkling blue eyes were wide with shock.

"Why?" the girl whispered. "Why did you ask me out … only to be kissing my best friend?"

The boy shrugged. "She's hot," he said nonchalantly.

Maisie glared at him with hateful eyes. She searched for her voice, and when she finally found it, she screamed out, "Asshole!" before running of to the other direction.


"See what I mean, Maisie?" Cindy's voice filled up Maisie's ears. "He only asked you out because of some stupid bet. I don't with whom though, so don't ask me that."

Maisie played with her gold colored bob-wired eye glasses. Something that Cindy personally chose for her when they went to the store to buy them.

"I found out about an hour after we hung up on the phone. I was going to tell you, but I didn't want to ruin your chances with a boy if the rumor wasn't true. Oh, Maisie, imagine my shock when he had kissed me! I would have pulled away too if it weren't for that grip of his!"

Maisie sniffed. She hadn't been crying, but her nose was getting stuffy.

"Don't you see how much of a true friend I am? I went to go find out the truth and I found it! I'm just happy that we found out before he could really hurt you."

"He said that he liked me because I have really pretty hair." Maisie said, her voice sounding strangely detached.

The other end of the line was quiet. For a second, Maisie wasn't sure weather or not her friend had heard her.

"He's lying," Cindy said. "It was a bet, remember? He'll say anything to get into your good graces."

"Y – Your right," Maisie agreed.

"I knew that I should have told you this before," Cindy sighed. "Your hair isn't beautiful as Jack put it. It's actually quite troublesome, to be honest. It's always out of place, and whenever it's near my skin, I get itchy. I don't like your hair, it's so … weird."

Maisie nodded. She stopped once she realized that her friend wouldn't be able to see her from the phone.

"You need to do something about that hair of yours," Cindy continued. "You should fix it."

"Alright, I will."

Maisie wore her hair into a bun from that day forward. After all, she didn't want to have her 'puffy, itchy, ugly' hair from bothering her 'best friend' again.


Four Years Ago . . .

It was the middle of the first month of high school when Maisie bumped into a cute boy, dropping her textbooks, notebooks, binder, and papers in the process.

Mentally cursing herself for carry so much stuff, she began to pick them up with the help of the boy. She was going to be late for class, again.

"S – Sorry," she said, feeling her cheeks heat up.

The boy chuckled. "No, that was my fault. I wasn't looking where I was going."

Maisie simply nodded her head as she continued to pick up her stuff.

"Here you go," he said, handing her back her stuff.

Maisie took it and piled it on top of her textbook. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," the boy said. "Well, I guess that I'll see you later on then, like, at lunch or something."

Maisie nodded, hugging her belongings against her chest.

"Okay, well bye …"

"Maisie," the teenager filled in, finally looking up. Her first thought was how cute the boy looked.

The boy smiled. "All right then, see you later Maisie!"

Maisie soon found herself smiling along with the boy.


It was at lunch when Maisie saw the boy again. He had walked up to her, and she felt happy seeing a familiar face in the large school.

"Hey Marcy," he greeted.

"It's Maisie," the girl corrected, remembering what he said when she first met him in the morning.

"Well, I guess that I'll see you later on then, like, at lunch or something."

Maisie moved her bag sitting next to her to make some room for the boy, but she stopped once she realized that he already took a seat next to Cindy and across from Stacy.

"Hi there," his voice came out smooth, cool. But the force to make himself sound like that was hidden somewhere in there, and Maisie managed to detect it, unlike the other two girl. "You must be Hot-as-Hell," he said to Cindy. Then, he turned to Stacy. "And you have to be Sexy."

The two girls giggled.

"As much as those nicknames are true," Stacy said, "Unfortunately, those are not our real names. I'm Stacy –"

"Donavon, and your Cindy Vortex." The boy finished for her. "Yeah, I know. Everyone knows who you two are. Who the hell doesn't?"

The girls giggled again, acting flattered when deep down inside they were already used to it. The comments, praises, and adorations were what they eat and breathed.

"I'm Josh," the boy said.

Maisie frowned.

It had suddenly hit her that the boy had not introduced himself when she had told him her name.

As the trio flirted with each other, Maisie began to pick at her food. For the remainder of lunch, she was left unacknowledged. But she didn't complain. She was used to it.

Everyone – boys, mainly – would use her to get to the 'two hottest girls in ninth grade.' She was the simple stepping stone, the ladder that could easily be climbed by anyone. It happened to her so many times that she stopped fussing over it.

For once, she thought that high school would be different. That it would give her the fresh start that she needed.

She was a fool to believe that.

Why? Why would this be any different than her previous years?

When she had confided in the two girls about her feelings as the odd one out, they would tell her to stop complaining and to be grateful to still have someone willing to talk to her. They told her that if she wasn't happy being friends with hottest, most popular girls in school, then she should find people of her 'own kind.'

She kept everything to herself after that.


Present Time . . .

Once again, Maisie looked at her small, silver circular watch being held by two red leather straps.

8:32 A.M.

Forty-nine minutes. She waited forty-nine minutes.

She has been waiting for forty-nine minutes for Cindy and Stacy to get back from their trip to the nail salon located across the school.

Maisie heaved a sigh.

She would be with them right now, but she didn't bring any money to spend. And the Twins – Maisie's nickname for them, because they seemed to have cloned each others personality - claimed that they didn't have extra money to lend to her. In the end, Maisie decided to stay behind and not act like the usual third wheel.

There were three more minutes till the bell rings. The sound of Maisie's wise cousin's voice filled her head on what to do when her friends were lagging. "Stop wasting your time, and fucking leave already!"

With that in mind, Maisie stood up from her seat on the blue bench and began to walk towards the direction of her first period class.

She put her Apple white iPod's earphones into her ears and began to listen to music whilst walking. She was so distracting in searching for a song that she had bumped into someone.

"Oomph!" the teenager stumbled backwards for a second before gaining back her balance.

"Oh, I'm sorry," a voice said. It had come out so smoothly and nonchalantly that Maisie looked up to see a very cute boy around her age who towered over her, which wasn't a surprise since she was barely 5'6.

It was safe to say that he is, in fact, attractive. His hair was a brownish black color, and his grey eyes were so deep one could drown in them. His shoulders were broad – like a boxer – and it was clear that he has muscles and worked out daily, or at the most, weekly.

But it wasn't his physical appearance that drew Maisie in. It was his style. He wasn't dressed like half of the guys in the school. No, he didn't dress as a Typical Swag Fag at all.

He wore a simple, plain white shirt tucked into a pair of navy blue evenly cuffed pants that showed off his dark colored socks and clean colored shoes.

Classy. That would be the word that Maisie would use to describe his style.

And, as they say, you should judge a book by its cover. Because you can learn a lot from it at the first glance.