Perfectly Imperfect

ocho: Influence

Carmen's POV
I walked into school and immediately noticed everyone's eyes were on me.

Errr. Ookaayy. This isn't uncomfortable at all.

They weren't just looking at me, they were glaring at me. Some had disgusted looks on their faces, and others looked like I just ran over their pet bunny. My eyes widened, and I looked behind me, out the door.

Did I run over a bunny?!

I looked, but there was no road kill in sight.

Thank god.

I turned back to my audience and realized their expressions weren't going to change any time soon, so I just awkwardly shuffled around the corner, so I wouldn't have to feel their glares on me.

  I made my way to the restroom. I went inside to find two other girls in there doing their makeup. At first they didn't bother looking at me, but after a few seconds of me just fiddling with my hair — 'cause I didn't really need to use the restroom — one of them glanced away from their reflection in my direction. When she saw who I was, she nudged her friend to get her attention. When the other girl looked up, she whispered something into her friend's ear, making both of them go into a giggling fit.

  The first girl whispered something back to her, and they went back and forth like this taking glances at me every once in a while, until I walked out of the restroom. Heck, they probably stayed talking about me even after I left.

  I get the gossip and talking behind people's backs and stuff, I'm in high school, it's bound to happen, but did they have to make it so obvious it was about me?

  Ring.

  I walked through the halls getting the same hateful and disgusted looks from everyone. This went on all day.

  You're probably thinking it's all in my head. . . . And I don't really have an argument against that prepared at the moment. I'll get back to you on that later.

  I'm just positive it's not. I mean, I'm pretty sure. I mean. . . I think so.

  Great, now I'm getting in my own head.

  And talking to myself!

  Wait, no, thinking to myself.

  Wait... that's normal.

I noticed there was a girl marching towards me, and she looked like she was on a mission. She's the girl I met the other day, Sam, I think it was. I'm not really sure. We didn't talk much.

When she got to me, "We need to talk," She said sternly.

I frowned. "About...?"

She does not look happy.

"Just, come with me," She ordered, grabbing my wrist and practically dragging me to the restroom.

We got in, and of course, there were a few girls in there.

"Get out," She spat darkly.