I've always blended into the background. My mom tells me it's because I don't try hard enough to gain people's attention. That I don't act my age. I don't care…Most of the time. I've accepted that I'm plain. It was easier when I was younger, but now that I've grown into a teenager it's become much harder. Hormones, that's what Mr. Lowe blames it on. But I try to blame it on something else.

Maybe if I act like that, that guy will call me back. What a paparazzi girl, I don't wanna be a stupid girl. Baby if I act like that, flipping my blonde hair back. Pushing up my bra like that. I don't wanna be a stupid girl.

I blame my personality, I believe appearance is last place in looking for a friend or boyfriend. So I've always gone what's comfortable in my closet. I think you should always have something to say, even though no one really talks to me. Except Gordy or other members of the faculty. Maybe they think I'm gonna blow my head off if I don't get a little human contact. I've thought about it, only as a poetic tool of course. I could never just go off and kill myself. When I first thought about it I told myself, "No, that means everyone else won, they got what they wanted, you're gone. If I have to be miserable they should have to be too. That's life." Wow, I was really weird when I was twelve.

Go to Fred Segal, you'll find them there laughing loud so all the little people stare. Looking for daddy to pay for the champagne.

I despise girls like Missy, forever believing that people like me are supposed to bend our backs til they break just to make her happy. I learned how to avoid her when we were in fifth grade, so it's not as bad as it could be. I thought Lisa Zemo was like me, we used to hang out all the time. We were best friends. But I guess the pressure got to her. She did it for Simon Cook, even though she won't admit it. But she now has him wrapped around her freshly manicured cuticle. I still sit with her at study hall sometimes, but the gaping guys that always surround her stare at me like I'm an outsider, not really knowing what I am.

What happened to the dreams of a girl president? They travel in packs two or three. With their itsy bitsy doggies, and their teeny weeny tees.

But my most hated rival would have to be Suzie Crabgrass. Miss Perfect, Miss Straight A Beauty Queen. It makes me sick. Crabgrass is full of nothing but hypocrisy. What? Do you want me to prove it? You know how she makes her straight A's? Nerdy kids who she pouts out her lip for so she can go off primping her hair. I, myself, refused. And I got made onto her list. Her and her crew have to get even with me.

Where, oh, where have the smart people gone? Where, oh, where could they be?

Ever since we had the same kindergarten teacher, I've had a crush on Ned Bigby. We seemed to have a bit in common. We didn't care about much, and what we did care about we threw ourselves into. Somehow Suzie found out about my top secret crush, and went out with him on the first try. It tore me up inside, but that's how the world works, and I shrugged it off. I just wrote it down, and locked it all away. Like I will as soon as I'm done with this.

Disease's growing, it's an epidemic. I'm scared that there ain't no cure. The world believes it, and I'm going crazy. I can't take it anymore.

My heart is just too full sometimes. What am I supposed to do? At school, at home I'm surrounded by silence. It's killing me. Everyone around me ignores my existence. But I'll find somehow to push it all away. It'll all be okay sooner or later, but I'm crossing my fingers for sooner. "Hey," I hear from behind my locker. I dismiss it, someone probably talking to somebody else to the locker next to mine.

I'm so glad that I'll never fit in, that will never be me. Outcasts, and girls with ambition. That's what I wanna see. Disaster all around, the world despaired, their only concern is will it screw up my hair?

"Hey," the guy says again, I slam my locker door to see Ned Bigby gazing at me from the other side of it. "Sorry, I didn't think you were talking to me," I swipe a piece of hair behind my ear, just like I always do when I'm nervous. "No one ever really talks to me." Breath leaves me, I talk way too much when I get the chance. I want to hit myself when pity fills his eyes. No, don't feel sorry for me. I'm supposed to feel sorry for you for dating a girl who only pretends to like you to peeve me off. "I was going to tell you that you left too soon before Mr. Pal yelled out that we're partners for the social studies project. So if it's okay, maybe I can come to your house this afternoon so we can start on it. I'm already one 70 away from failing." I shrug, holding my emotions in as always.

"Here, can you come around five I have to work for a bit." I write my address down on the palm of his hand, and he looks at it with a smile. "Yeah, see you then." He waves to me as he goes over to Crabgrass, and she hits me with one of her trademark evil glares, with a double dose of her gleeful maniac smirks. Ned as always, doesn't notice only going over to her and kisses her cheek. They could be planning a prank together. I watch him a an arm around her slender waist. What can I do to stop this madness? Maybe if I acted like that for awhile, Ned would come to me, and Suzie's plan would be demised.

I smiled, something I rarely do anymore. But I couldn't help it I was hatching a plan against my rival enemy.

Pretty will you screw me girl? Silly as a lucky girl, pull my head, and suck it girl. Stupid girl.