"So snot was practically running down my face when they took the picture. Wanna see?" I eagerly shoved my Hempstead High School ID card at the cardigan clad girl sitting next to me.
What was I blathering? What the hell was I blathering?
Of course she didn't want to see my ID picture in all it's boogery glory. Who would have? There she was, a perfectly friendly, talkative freshman who was willing to be my friend, and the best I could muster was to shove an awkward picture in her face.
Was I fabulous at making new friends or what?
To my surprise, Lydia peered at my picture and smiled understandingly. "That's nothing," she said laughing. "I look drunk in mine. One of my eyes is completely closed…and I have a freaking strand of hair right in the middle of my face. You already know the guys are gonna be all over this." She pulled her ID card out of her wallet and slapped it down on the table in front of me.
Sure enough, Lydia looked like she had been part of a Ke$ha music video…and it had not gone well.
"You look fine!" I lied. Hell, if I wanted friends at this place, what could I do?
"If my picture looks fine, yours could be model status." I could tell that Lydia was trying her best to be nice as well, but by the time she had finished her sentence, she was no longer smiling at me. Instead, her gaze had shifted to something behind me. Instinctively, I turned my head. And that was when I saw him.
*
Gordan Perlman. By the end of that first day of freshman year I had already come to know not only that his name was Gordan Perlman - pronounced yor-dun - but also that he was in my Spanish class.
And I was going to make him mine no matter what it took.
YOU ARE READING
51 Shades of Mumu
Teen FictionFor Mumu, one boy just isn't enough. Along with her newly-made friends, this high school freshman is about to discover that sometimes, having a boyfriend isn't all that; it's having MANZ that matters.
