Chapter Three: Tattooed Beauty Invasion

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To anyone who's wondering what a Chelsea hairstyle (or feathercut), the pic to the right is what these skinhead girls have - not ALL skinhead girls have these hairstyles but most do. 

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Hate Me, Love Me:

Chapter Three: Tattooed Beauty Invasion

"Stop."

Poke.

"Quit it."

Poke. Poke.

Irritation gnawed at me and the urge to slam my book against the desk and yell at the person beside me annoying me by poking me seemed to fight my patient self. Though, I could never do that. Why? First, we were in a library waiting for Shirley to pay all her book fees in order to graduate and do any senior activities all together. Second, I was reading for Christ's sake!

Who pokes people out of boredom anyway?!

I turned my gaze from those precious words of the book to Celeste who held an arrogant smirk plastered on her oval shaped face. Seas of green stared back at me with a mischief glint twinkling in their horizons. Just like Shirley, Celeste was beautiful. With her blond hair falling in perfect curls, her thin body and delicate curves, and her creme colored skin that would sometimes be decorated with glitter when she's feeling flamboyant. She had her own unique style apart from Shirley. With her beautiful patterned blouses which held small roses, or horses, or sometimes miniature polka dots, Celeste was those girls who need to look perfect for any type of occasion whether it's school or an ordinary picnic.

With summer or spring dresses or jeans with tops that made hugged her assets perfectly, Celeste always had that worn out handbag with pins decorating the strap. Each pin signified the places she went or was given. She's a collecter of pins, it was strange when I first met her and discovered that. I always thought she was just an ordinary girlie-girl who adored the fashion industry and crushed over every girl who glanced her way but she was down to earth. She volunteered in the local animal shelter and helped loving animals get a home. She was a beautiful human being who didn't care if she got hurt in the process of helping others. Another sister I never had.

Apart from their differences, both Shirley and Celeste agreed on one thing: Boys.

Like any typical girl, Celeste and Shirley craved that bad boy persona and thrived for the reckless life like my inner self did. Yet Celeste had that 'good girl' halo on her head, she wanted to be free from her smothered, strict life. With her parents wanting their daughter graduate high school unlike their twenty year old son who dropped out and sought for his dream to be in a band which truthfully, worked in his case. Celeste's brother was on tour travelling to different cities and countries yet never got the satisfaction of their parents' joy over his career.

I suppose, that was a bad thing a parent should do to their child. Neglect them from achieving their dream and steer their lives to the ideal life tey planned for them. Maybe that's why Celeste craved the reckless life. To be free from her parents' rule and just be herself. I remembered her telling me that after graduation, she would leave New Hampshire and tour with her brother. It was her dream to visit different places and collect more pins. While my dream was to shed from my skin and be the person I always wanted to be: Confident and strong. But when the minutes tick by and the entrapment I put upon myself, that dream seemed vague now.

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