Disclaimer: All Fairly Oddparents property belongs to Nickelodeon
Tootie (17)
I wake up on the first day of senior year with a headache. Not a blinding one, thank God, but enough of one to be slightly annoying. I grunt in disapproval of my head and look around my room. Still pink, still covered in hearts of every shape and size but for the past 5 years that's all the decorations that have adorned my room. When I was younger I thought maybe I'd move my focus onto another guy, and I have multiple times in fact, It's just I've never had the same obsession that I had for the first one and that's probably a good thing. I hum as I get to work, changing clothes and making my bed.
When I get to the bathroom in order to brush my teeth I allow myself a few moments to stare at what puberty has turned me into. I'm not much taller around 5'2" and I top the scales at 110. My hair is in a long braid that I drape over my shoulder. My eyes shine bright and beautiful a strong violet that were finally given a chance to breathe after I got contacts a couple of years ago. My face has narrowed out giving me high cheekbones and dimples and my straight, white smile peeks at the world from beneath my lips, not a trace of metal on them. A combination of a slim waist and a generous chest give me what some might call an "hourglass figure" but honestly all I get from it is a hard time trying to find clothes that actually fit. Currently I'm wearing a white shirt with pink hearts and black peace signs covering it. It is a lower cut shirt and hugs my breast provocatively. Just thinking about walking in to school like that makes me blush so I zip up a pink hoodie in an effort to cover myself up, at least a little bit. My jeans are ripped in strategic places and pink vans cover my feet. After brushing my teeth, checking myself in the mirror one more time to make sure I'm not showing too much I leave grabbing my keys on the way out.
I jog out my house shooting quick byes to my parents and get into my well-loved 98 Mazda. I say well-loved because the poor things been through hell. I'm pretty certain the other owners used it for racing, as well as other things that are no more than annoying stains on my backseat now, and it doesn't help any that my friend Christy slams the door at the speed of light every time she gets in or out. As my small powder blue car somehow makes itself start and I drive out of my driveway and start toward the terror that is Dimmesdale High a bright pink 2013 Mustang speeds down the road narrowly avoiding hitting me in the process. I glare at the disappearing tail lights and growl low in my throat. As Timmy Turner turns down the street that would end up leading him to the school I start wondering for not the first time why I was ever in love with him. I drive responsibly toward my friend Christy's house and park outside. I honk twice and resolve myself to wait 5 minutes before honking again. Picking up a well thumbed book from where it was discarded in the back seat I decide to enter the world of Jane Eyre. I get to another chapter and look at the clock, 10 minutes have gone by and I honk 3 times, and a fourth long one. Several doors fly open spot my car look toward the house I'm currently still parked in front of and shaking their heads they shut their doors. Finally at 15 till my blonde friend decides to open her door and move to my car.
Wearing tight clothes, much more confidently than myself, Christy walks quickly to my car opening the door and slamming it with all the power her little body possess. Part of the reason I hang out with her is because she's the only senior that's actually shorter than me and she doesn't mind. She always says "As long as you love me darling." But other then that she's OK, she wears tight clothing mainly because like me she can't find anything that fits but unlike me she actually enjoys wearing this to school. Like her current ensemble which includes a t-shirt that clings to her curves and says "Kiss me I'm Irish" but thankfully isn't low cut, her jeans are so tight at this point they're more like leggings and her blue vans clash with her green shirt, not that she cares.
She looks at me for a couple of minutes waiting for my traditional comment on her attire. Not wanting to give her any fuel for her proverbial fire I turn to the street, restart my car and say "You aren't Irish" as I continue towards school. She smiles and says back "I am today sweetie." Her startling grass green eyes cut through the air between us and keep staring at me until I finally crack a smile. She smiles back putting her feet on the dash, getting my baby annoyingly dirty in the process, and putting her head against the window falling promptly asleep. I grunt in annoyance and honk once, jerking her from slumber. I dodge the pencil she throws at me and chuckle she grumbles and putting her feet back where they belong, on the floor, she watches as I drive into the parking lot of Dimmesdale High. I take in the all too familiar white building, looking like our old Elementary School, Dimmesdale High stood proud and gleaming in the morning sun, ready to torture a brand new class of Freshman. I glare at the building, and reluctantly park. Ready for my Last First Day of High School.
A/N: How was the first chapter in 1st person? Next chapter we find out why Timmy was speeding. Until next time press those three special buttons Review, Follow, and Favorite.