Page 69 - The Life of A Teenage Girl (Stories About Finding Your Way)

CHAPTER 2

T
he next morning, I pushed myself to wake up early—

something I hadn’t done in a while. Ever since that little girl
on the bus whispered something to her mom, I hadn’t been

able to shake it off. I didn’t catch the full sentence, but I swear I heard
the word “fat.” That alone was enough to put me in this quiet haze.

So, I got up, took a warm shower, and pulled on my oversized

white sweater and favorite black shorts—something that felt like
comfort and effort at once. “A little makeup wouldn’t hurt,” I mumbled,

dusting my cheeks with my Sephora blush, the one that always made
me feel a bit more like myself. Just as I reached for my lip balm, a

sudden shout came from downstairs.

“Elle, we need to go!”
Then I realized we were going to the school for the new–student–

assistant thing. I guess no exercise then.
I jogged downstairs to see Dad already heading out of the house.

When we were on the way to school, nothing about the building caught
me off guard—it was exactly how I remembered it. No new paint, no

updated garden, not even a cleaner sign. I had secretly hoped they’d fix

up a few things—maybe change the walls or give the place a fresh
look—but no. The same building. Same hallway smell. Same dull

“Parkland High” sign hanging crooked above the door like it always
did.