The girls who wore makeup, drank expressos, and carried around big, initial-covered bags. . . I was never one of those girls. I was never a stupid girl. I didn't care about whether my eyebrows had been plucked lately or not, or if any boy has got the hots for me, or what's the latest fashion trend on the streets. I cared whether or not I could solve this problem by Ceva's Theorem. I am the topper of my class and a brilliant student with high ambitious, I am not some dumb girl whose sun rises and sets thinking about boys.

And that is why, I never had any close competition when it came to studies, sports and art. Because all the other girls in my class were busy drowning their faces in make up and getting manicures, bitching and gossiping among friends, shooting down geeky boys and rumbling for the good-looking men. How could they go on a new date every single evening, and how could they even afford all that lip glosses, eye liners, mascara and lipsticks. It was just beyond me. But I didn't have time to dwell on it. I had tests to prepare, coz I had so much plans for myself in the future.

If they wanted to waste time on silly things like dating stupid boys then I wasn't stopping them. I could be learning new things, apply for courses, take up new hobbies, perfecting my skills to ensure my place in this world. Only when I blushed with him for the first time did I ever care about anything like bronzer. I didn't even know what bronzer was until we were wondering around the city, and I saw it in a store window. I wasn't even going to use it to look better, just to hide my face if, for some strange reason, my face went red around him again.

But then I discovered things like mascara. Mascara would puff up my eyelashes, and hide that look in my eyes that made him look so confused. And damnit, cute, too. Eyeliner, lipstick, lip gloss; they all served to hide me from him, but the realization that I knew was coming, coming from him, was closing in quickly.

I tried to avoid it. I didn't make eye contact with him. I ignored his cutest quirks(though sometimes I couldn't help myself). I told myself over and over again that it was nothing but a hormonal girl crush, the kind that was natural for girls my age. It was nothing to fret about. It would pass.

It wasn't until I was lying on the bank of a stream during what should have been a good swim, mascara running down my face that was half soaked in water and half soaked in tears from the black stinging, until I realized that it was getting the best of me.

That girly stupidity, that stupid girl-ishness that I had always resented.

And so I gave into it.

It wasn't as bad as I thought, though my pride had been slaughtered to mince meat and my self esteem was surviving off of the little glances that he sent me. I was fine. I threw in a subtle flirt every now and then and I was fine.

I was fine. I was fine, I was fine, I was fine.

That was what I told myself.

But scrubbing at my hair, having to fight the chlorine out with conditioner, I pined again for the strength that I used to be proud of myself for. So, was I happy or not of my girly addiction? I don't know. I just- don't know. I don't think I want to know. Either way it makes me weak.

I'm not a stupid girl. I'm not a girl who is stupid for makeup and I'm not a girl who is stupid about myself. I know that he's gone now, off in some far away land, to train some far away people, some future of Beyblading crap. He wouldn't have it any other way. He just loves all the attention.

But I needed something. Something to calm myself with, something to suffice my stupid needs until I saw him again. I didn't know what I was expecting, traveling all the way to his house without notice. My own room would be idle for a while, but then, I guess my stupidity overlooked that.

A forced smile, some sweet banter, and a cup of tea later, when I arrived at Tyson- the Grangers' dojo, I got to the point of my visit as quickly as I could:

"Um, Grandpa?"

"Yo homegirl! Whad's eating ya yo!"

"I was wondering if I could ask you for something. . ."

"All ears, homie!"

"Well, I'll be going back out of Japan for further studies, and I was just wondering. . . well. . . if I. . ." Suddenly, all of the bronzer in the world couldn't hide the red of my face.

"Relax the lips, girl! I can smell what ya stepping in!" To my shock, Tyson's energetic grandpa placed a loving hand on my shoulder.

"Huh?!" Confusion and worry came upon me like Kenny on a beautiful girl.

"Dis old crook no fool! Wanna know how ma T-Dawg chillin, ain't yo!" He cackled so loudly that my teeth began to ache(though maybe that was because I had been grinding them). "Still the tots for him, eh?"

"Ho-How. . ." I was so consumed in confusion that my thoughts came to a halt.

"Dis body seasoned for nothin, homegirl!" Out of the closest cabinet, Grandpa revealed to me something that I never thought would leave Tyson's head.

His cap.

His stupid, precious, dirty, unwashed cap.

"He left. . ."

"Affirmative." Memories and feelings of betrayal poured into me like a wife who had just walked in on her husband, a bottle of champagne, some cotton sheets, and his three mistresses.

"But. . ."

"his big head outgrew it girl!" Grandpa revealed.

But I knew it was a lie and I tasted the lie like lemonade with no sugar.

He was moving onto bigger and better things, and of course, he needed a better hat.

"T-Dawg wanted ya to have it!"

It didn't dawn on me that he had left the room until I asked him for the time and he wasn't there to answer. I glanced over at the wall clock and I realized that I had spent half an hour just staring at the red hat in front of me.

I took it and left, thinking about it the whole way home. The weakness that I felt was tripling in size.

Tyson- not the Tyson he was now, but the Tyson I used to know- he would have been angry at me for getting his cap all wet. Good thing I wasn't wearing any eyeliner, or I would have stained it, too.

Tyson Granger, that stupid, stupid, stupid boy!

He went and made me stupid for him.