A Complicated Story About Some Half-Bloods

Entry Number Two

The next day at school sucked. I got another take-home test in AP music theory. As if I didn't have enough homework in AP art history. I failed a test (that's what I call getting a B) in religion because I wasn't paying enough attention. Later, at the end of the day, I was at my locker too busy with recalling what I had to put into my mental planner that I didn't notice Christian waiting to talk to me.
"Oh, hello," I said.
"Hi. I just barely saw your instagram post and I think it's hilarious."
"I don't have an instagram. Or a phone." I sounded like Olaf from the movie Frozen. Weird.
"Really? It can't be fake."
"Well, what's on it?" He showed me his phone. It was a picture of some weirdo taking a selfie with stage makeup on. Stage makeup is all that gunk that dancers and actors have to wear on their face while performing. I dance a lot, like five hours a day, so I also perform frequently. I don't have enough money to compete, but the girl who actually wasn't me was wearing competition makeup.
"That's not me." Oh goodness, I should've just laughed like a normal person.
"Are you sure? She looks just like you."
"What's her name?"
"Grace." That name at the top said that her name was Ascylla.
"I'm not that clueless. People are on instagram all the time. I can see her name."
"I know. Sorry."
"It's fine. See ya later."
"See ya."
And that was when I collapsed.