Fat Girl ✔️

Senior year begins

The bright hallway, decorated in our red and gold school colors, greeted me as I entered the school.

These were the halls that tortured me for the past three years of my life. But not this year. This year was different. I had to do things differently this time. I couldn't leave high school knowing I didn't at least try to turn things around.

And it all begins today.

Every year, I had the worst first day of school possible. There were three stages:

1. I always get a bottom locker. Because our school is too cheap to afford full size lockers, They're split in half. As a Five-foot-seven individual, I feel strongly that the locker decisions should be made on height. However, that is far from the case.

2. I'm always assigned a homeroom seat in front of Brooke Taylors, our school's very own Regina George. I'm forced to listen to her complain every day about not behind able to see from behind me.

3. I ALWAYS get tripped on the first day. ALWAYS.

This year, none of that stuff was going to happen to me. I was prepared.

I personally visited the vice principal yesterday to request a top Locker. I also had my mom sign a very real slip saying that I was allergic to strawberry perfume, Brooke's signature scent. And before anyone tripped me, I was going to trip them.

Senior year was gonna be my  year.

"Move it, fatty."

Julian Summers shoved past me, his arrogance trailing behind him like a veil. He turned back, running his hands through his light blonde hair. His lips turned upwards into an evil grin.

Every year he did stuff like this to me. And every year I let it get to me. 

But not this year.

***

"If you can remind me again, Why do we have to go to lunch early? We're literally the only people outside of class right now."

It was almost 1:00, and I had stepped out of class early to grab Bella and Sydney in order to complete the last step of my master plan. They stood next to me at my locker, Bella with her head in a book and Sydney rolling her eyes. I pulled out a pair of sparkly slippers from my locker; If I was going to trip someone for everyone to see, I might as well do it in style.

"We're doing this so that I can get revenge on the jerks who trip me every year."

Sydney leaned against my locker, picking her nails. "Okay, Harley Quinn."

I slammed my locker closed. "I am not crazy. I'm just ready to finally kick some football player butt."

"You don't have to do this, you know," Bella said. "Don't stoop to their level. You can be the bigger person."

"I am  the bigger person."

I tried not to trip in my glamorous yet deadly shoes as we made our way to the cafeteria. We took seats right by the door so I could inspect and see which one looked the stupidest. I needed the perfect boy to trip, someone who was mean, but not too mean, someone who was muscly, but not ripped, someone who was dumb, but not a two year old. Every year, a different football player tripped me, so it was hard to pick which one to trip back.