Misremembering

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Even before she decided to be a writer, Jisoo had always had an over-active imagination.

She transferred to a new middle school when she was twelve because of bullies at her last school. But she knew that there were bad kids everywhere, which was why it was crucial that make she a good impression on her very first day.

She'd had no friends at her last school. The kids were mean at her last school, even though Jisoo had tried hard to be friends with them. She would try to share her books with them or make up stories for them, but no one was impressed. No one there ever saw her as anything else other than a stupid, air headed farm girl who spent too much time with her head in the clouds, making up stupid stories. Once, they swore her plump face was even shaped like a peach. The children actively withheld their affection from her and teased her mercilessly. They would take her lunch and smash it under their feet right in front of her, or they'd open up a cup of diced peaches and dump it over her head, and they'd call her names: Peach Girl, Kim Peachu.

She fidgeted with the uniform skirt and adjusted her blouse all morning, and then decided that her hair was too flat and boring. So before climbing into her dad's truck and driving over for the first day, she ran out into the yard and plucked some flowers to make a daisy chain to wear on her head, never mind that digging around in the yard lodged some dirt under her nails.

"We have a transfer student today, boys and girls!" the male teacher said enthusiastically as he signaled for the children to take their seats. Jisoo stood just outside the door, waiting to be called inside while she rehearsed her introduction in her head.

Please like me, please like me. Please, please, please let them like me, Jisoo chanted in her head. She reached into her pocket and clutched her lucky purple flower.

"Jisoo, do you want to come in and introduce yourself?" the teacher asked. Jisoo, heart pounding, stepped into the classroom and put on the brightest smile she could muster.

Everyone's eyes were on her. So far, none of the kids looked mean. They just looked kind of curious. She was trying hard to control her breathing. She kept smiling.

"Hello," she said cheerfully. "I'm Kim Jisoo. I'm twelve. I'm..." she tried to remember what she rehearsed. "I am... really happy to meet you all. I... I hope we can be friends."

The room was quiet, and Jisoo was afraid she'd said something wrong. She looked at all their faces and couldn't read anyone's emotions. Her smile started to falter, but then her teacher stepped in.

"Do you want to tell us a little bit more about yourself?" he said. "What sorts of things do you like?"

Jisoo, grateful for the gentle prompting, nodded. "I like to read books," she said.

"Very good," said her teacher. "What kinds of books do you like?"

"All sorts," she said. "I read fantasy and adventure books and scary ones. Funny ones and fantasy ones are my favorite. But sometimes I don't like the way they end, so I just imagine that it goes differently."

Her teacher looked amused at her answer. "Interesting," he said. "Maybe you'd like to be a writer someday?"

Jisoo raised her brows. She hadn't ever really considered that. But now that he mentioned it...

"That would be nice," she said.

"So where are you from? Where do you live?"

Jisoo's face fell. Oh no. She couldn't tell the kids that she lived on a peach farm. What if they think I'm just some stupid farm girl? What if they get peach cups and dump them over my head? What if they start calling me—

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