Author's note: Heeey. Thank you so much for the feedbacks :) I hope you will like this chapter as well. Let me know, mkay?
Enjoy.
2.
Yeah, I really don't lie. Do you think it's something I'm proud of?
Because it's NOT.
I hate it. I hate being the only girl...person, who never have been kissed. As I said, it's frustrating and depressing. Maybe that's why nobody knows. Well, nobody but my brother.
It's not that I've never been interested. I have. Trust me, I have. But boys haven't. I always was that mousy in the middle of crowd that nobody even noticed. Not boys, not girls. No one.
It's kind of sad, don't you think?
I've never had real friends. It was just me and my brothers. Mom and Dad were kinda strange and I've never had a close relationship with them. On the other hand, I loved my brothers. They both were everything to me and even though they could such fools sometimes, I felt loved.
At least by someone.
I was 15 when Clay, my older brother died. He was adopted and black, which some boys couldn't stand. They shot him on his way home. He died immediately and I couldn't even tell him goodbye.
After that everything changed. I wanted to achieve something, something to make him proud of me. I went to college and became as a journalist. I got a job at the biggest Los Angeles newspaper, thanks to Aiden, and I was satisfied. Not happy, just satisfied.
But I want more. I want to become a real journalist, not just a copy-editor.
Do I want too much?
----
Another morning and we all are sitting in a conference room, listening to Aiden's dad.
"We need new ideas. God, people, no one has new ideas?"
I look around and see all my co-workers with their heads down, looking at the papers. Or, at least, they act like that.
"Spencer." I hear my name.
I lift my head up and I meet with a soft stare coming from Mr. Dennison. I always liked Aiden's Dad. He is nice and kind, not like his son.
"Yeah?"
"Do you have something?" he asks, and I feel every face turns toward me.
"I…uh…"
I desperately look around the room and see Madison reading some magazine for teenagers.
"Teenagers!" I blurt.
"What?"
"Uh…I think we should write something about teenagers today. I mean, how much do we know about them? Who are they? How do they act? What are they thinking?"
I stop and glance around to see all eyes fixed on me. I already feel myself blushing. I probably look like a tomato.
Then I glance at Mr. Dennison, who seems to be thinking really hard. After a while he still doesn't say anything and I start feeling sick. I guess I shouldn't…
"That is a great idea!"
Every pair of eyes looks at him in shock, along with me.
"Spencer, you enroll on Monday. Undercover."
I guess I finally got my chance.
-----
"No. No way, Spencer."
I'm in our old house, where my brother Glen still lives with our parents. He is almost 27, but still doesn't seem like he's going to move out. I think he is satisfied with my parents supporting him. He doesn't have even a real job yet, but my parents don't mind for some unknown reason.
"Please, Glen. I'll give you anything. I'll do anything."
"For how long?" he asks with his head stuck in the fridge.
"Just for a couple of months."
He pulls out from the fridge and looks at me in disbelief. "What? You want to borrow my car, my Chevrolet Camaro from 1969, my only love, for a couple of months?"
I innocently smile at him. "Yes…?"
"Forget it," He resolutely shakes his blond head.
"Pleaaaaase, Glen. I'll give you my car."
"Wow. This must be big, if you want to give me your car. The car you never lend to anyone in this world."
I nod. "I got an assignment from the paper. I'm going undercover. Back to high school."
Then Glen starts laughing.
"Why are you laughing?" I glare at him.
He finally stops laughing and replies, "Spencer, this is not a good idea."
I frown. "Why not?"
He looks at me, amused. "Spence, do you remember high school?"
I fix my eyes on the floor. "It was a long time ago."
His voice softens. "Spence…"
"Okay, I do."
Flashback:
She walks through the hallway in King High School; nobody notices her. She sees cheerleaders, surrounded by basketball stars, she sees nerds with nerds, Goth kids and many other groups.
And then there's her. She's walking all alone. She has no group. It's just her and no one else.
-----
"Glen, please. That was a long time ago. I'm different now. The kids there are different."
He shakes his head. "I don't think so. I think they're still the same."
"Whatever. Just lend me your car, please. I can't go there with mine."
He finally gives up and hands me the key. "Fine, but remember that I warned you."
"Yay!" I jump him in his arms, hugging him, and give him a peck on the cheek.
"Thanks, bro. Love you," I say before I leave in his car. Well, it's mine now.
----
"Girl, if you really want to look like a teenager, you need to do something with your whole look."
I'm in my apartment with Madison and Chelsea, looking through my wardrobe. Well, Chelsea and I are looking, while Madison sits on my bed, commenting on everything.
"Seriously, your clothes are…too…" Chelsea starts, searching for the right word.
"Boring?" Madison added.
I frown at them. "They're not boring. They are just…"
Madison cut me off very quickly. "Boring. Just admit it, Spence. None of today's teenagers wear these clothes."
She stands up, and faces me, brushing my hair.
"You're really beautiful, Spencer. I don't understand why you hide yourself behind these," she frowns, "clothes. It's not you. You should wear more girly clothes, not those ugly pants suits."
She touches my face, tracing it with her long fingers and I shiver.
Wait, why am I shivering? It's just Madison.
"You have a really beautiful face. If you used some make-up, it would be even better."
"She is right, Spencer." I look at Chelsea, who is nodding at Madison's words.
Maybe they're really right.
I sigh and give up. "Okay, do something with me."
"Yay!" They both squeal.
----
After three hours of shopping in the biggest mall in L.A. we are at the hairstylist, the best in L.A. At least that's what Madison told me.
"So, honey, what would you like to do with this?" he asks as he turns me in the seat.
"I…uh…anything?" I spit out, not really knowing what I should say.
"Diego, just do anything you want to. She must look hot," Madison says, sitting next to me in the seat as some hairstylist is washing her hair.
"Yeah, she must look hot and young," Chelsea adds and I look at her. She is sitting next to me on the other side, another hairstylist doing something with her hair.
Diego turns me around again, so I can see both of us in the mirror. He smiles at me and I think he noticed my scared look, because he smiles even wider.
"Don't worry, honey, you will look beautiful."
Oh, didn't I say it sooner? He is so gay.
Minutes pass and Diego finally seems to be satisfied with his job. I don't know how I look, because from some unknown reason I must have covered my eyes. Madison and Chelsea wanted this to be a surprise or something.
"Alright, sweetie, you're done." He turns me around; now we are facing each other. He uncovers my eyes.
"Oh my God, Spence, you look beautiful!" Madison shrieks as she sees me.
"Well, yeah, thanks, can I look now?" I ask, looking around for the mirror.
"Nope. We are gonna do your make-up first," Diego says.
I protest. "What? But I don't need it today. I mean, I have to be there tomorrow, so…" I try stand up, but he pushes me back into the chair.
"But we want you to look hot today, don't we?"
"Absolutely," I hear voices from my so-called friends.
I sigh. "Okay."
-----
Minutes pass again and Diego finally stops whatever he was doing with my face. It wasn't that bad, though. I don't wear make-up at all and it was nice to feel someone doing it for me.
"Okay, sweetie, we are done."
He calls Madison and Chelsea and when they see me, their mouths drop wide open.
Is it that bad?
"Oh my God, girl, you look incredibly hot," Madison pronounces.
I turn around to look at myself and what I see leaves me speechless. Madison was right. I do look hot. Incredibly hot. Is that even me? I slowly run my hands over my hair. It's no longer just long without any form, but shorter. Not too short, not too long, just right. My hair color isn't just ordinary blond anymore, but a gorgeous shade of golden color.
Then I touch my face, a face who has never known make-up until now. Hell, I don't look like an old woman anymore. I finally look like a young girl, exactly what I need for the next couple of months.
