Topsy-Turvy

Falling Hard

Hey! I'm sorry if this chapter is a little dry. I just couldn't think of much to do with it. It's more of a connecting chapter than anything else, but if you have any ideas on stuff I could put in then I'll try to put it in to make it a little more interesting.

P.S. Next chapters will be much more interesting!
________________________________________________________________________

Jennifer's POV:

I pulled up my straight blond hair into a high ponytail and put my green bow in, adding the last touch to my uniform.

Something's not right... Is it my butt? Does my butt look to big?

I turned sideways to look at myself in the mirror, standing tall and sucking in my stomach.

No, that's not it. Maybe it's my nose.

I got up close to the mirror and slightly upturned my nose.

No. Now I just look like a pig. My mom would never let me get a nose job anyway. Even though she's gotten like three.

"Oh, come on Jennifer. You look perfect." Breanne sashayed in, dumped her cheer bag on the floor, carefully put on some lip gloss, and fussed with her naturally curly brown hair.

"Do I look good? I mean, since John is going to be out there and all.."

That's it! I needed more lip gloss! I just felt kind of naked without a fresh coat.

"You look fine..." I said, as she fussed with a pimple on her forehead.

"Ugh! This pimple is awful! It's like right in the middle of my face!" She whined, stomping her little feet on the ground.

"You can't really notice... That much..." I lied, rolling my eyes.

It's your fault... If you wouldn't eat all that junk food then your complexion might get a little better... Guess McDonalds wasn't worth it last week. I scolded in my mind.

"I hate my life!" She stormed off, stomping her feet again into a stall, and slamming the door behind her.

I pulled out my favorite lucky lip gloss, and swiped an extra time... I would need it for today, considering what I was about to pull off...

Coach wanted me to do an aerial cartwheel.

I tried to talk her out of it, and told her I wasn't ready, but she insisted I was. Everything had gone smoothly at practice, but I had never done it in a routine or in front a lot of people... Under pressure.

I was scared... I wasn't confident about it... But I couldn't let anyone know that... I had a reputation to uphold.

I looked in the mirror, and sighed, burying my face in my hands.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The lights were low in the gym, and strobe lights of every color were shining throughout the room in all directions, and music was blaring, the beat pulsating through my body and rattling the gym floor.

Hundreds of kids were filing into the gym bleachers, mostly losers.

But somehow, I felt something I'd never felt before.

I envied them.

For just a moment...

I envied them.

And I still felt like something was wrong with the way I looked for some reason, which brought me back to my thought.

All those kids that I always say are losers, are actually kind of lucky in a way. They don't have to worry about looking perfect... They just blend in with the walls. They don't have to worry about putting their entire reputation on the line with a stupid no-handed cartwheel... I looked at my feet.