A Mislead Perception
I was incredibly awkward in middle school: tall and uncoordinated, fitting the mold of a nerd with a high grade and science and a low one in self-esteem. Even though I had friends, I didn’t necessarily fit the seventh grade standard of being popular. I remember the day Austin came to our school. She was from Brooklyn, and she brought along her unbelievable stories of mischief making her instantly popular. She told us of how she had snuck out at night to meet older boys, and how she would smoke in the park. She was slightly overweight and her teeth were crooked. That did not matter though, because she walked around like she was better than all of us put together. She was intimidating, outspoken, and aggressive – a person you would never want to cross. While Austin stomped her way around campus, I tried my best to go unnoticed. If I was to steal her spotlight or stand out, it could only result in one thing: confrontation. I convinced myself that I needed to act as if I was a chameleon, blending in with my surroundings and to remain the shy seventh-grader that I had always been. My actions were to remain coy and reserved. My wardrobe needed to be modest and unrevealing. I let my wardrobe consist of my All Star Chuck Taylors, jeans, and plain t-shirts. Austin and her friends, on the other hand, wore shorts with words like “Hottie” across the seat and they pulled their thong underwear up so it showed. She dyed her red hair black and got a perm like all the other popular girls. All the boys were completely smitten with her appearance and background. I never understood why the boys liked her grungy, despicable style or her loud, boisterous actions. Even during recess I questioned why, why Austin? I could run for a touchdown, but Austin somehow always managed to be one of the first girls picked in flag football during recess while I was lucky to be picked at all. I was thrown the ball while she stood with the quarterback, conversing about the last...
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