Disclaimer- I do not own the clique or any brands mentioned. (A/N) Thanks to emeraldeyes101, who made me post this, in a way.
Day 1: Decision
You sit, the soft navy-blue duvet blanket covering your toes. The cloak of excitement the Sunday night brought makes you grin. In front of you, the rainbow of shoes travels from knee to knee between your outstretched legs.
Black, Yellow? Or maybe purple?
"No more purple. Not anymore." You think, and toss the brand new sneakers onto the floor. You are now... original, an individual, you are to stand out when you step into those OCD doors. They are not a part of you. And you will not be a part of them, when you walk through those Octavian Country Day School doors for the first time, entering sixth grade. You are to be bright, like sunshine.
Day 2: Impression
You curse under your breath when you realize you look like a bumblebee.
"Totally loving those." Some girl says, pointing to your yellow shoes.
"Thanks." You beam and walk away, unaware of the snickers echoing behind you.
Days 3-4: Proud
You are proud of yourself for being, not a Massie-clone or OCD-Girl, but someone different.
So maybe you are Converse-Girl, or Rainbow-Feet, but they are intrigued. Those girls- they knew your name. And because of that you're proud of yourself, yet at the same time, oblivious.
Day 9
Being rushed out the door by your older brother, you snatch up the pair of shoes that are the forbidden color.
You step into the OCD halls.
"Purple. Her shoes are purple." A girl snickers to her friends.
"You were wrong!" Some girl screams to her friend in victory.
"Ugh, I thought they were gonna be green." Another girl whines.
"I knew it! You owe me ten dollars!" Some eight grader says.
Realization.
Your social-life? A mockery. Your 'originality', it was now a mockery to everyone- a mere amusing guessing game to others.
A game simply called, 'What Color Is She Wearing Today?' That was your individuality, what you are know for. You search for the answer to why you didn't notice this before.
"Oh, they're purple today, Layne-y?" That voice. "That's always been my color, you know that."
Looking down, away from her face, you see your stubbly, once constantly shaved legs. And in nervous habit, you crack your knuckles, only to see the small residue of purple nail polish.
Running into the lost and found, you throw off the purple sneakers, and put on a pair of black flip-flops in your relative shoe size.
You tried. Tried Hard. But your past was like that stubborn purple nail polish, that would take time to fade away... even with nail polish remover.