I sat back and sipped my Mocha Latte. I looked at the fresh snow on the streets and thought about winters back in my hometown. Always cold and long. Here, they were almost the same. I took in the view, well the view from the outside of the 7th street Starbucks. Oh, Brooklyn. I moved here when I turned 18 to go to fashion school. That was three years ago and I'm almost finished. It's been quite interesting, seeing what kinds of fashions are going to be trendy soon. I don't make enough to purchase them, but who knows? Maybe one day, I'll be famous for my designs. My mom always said I was pretty enough to be a model. I guess it was true. I was always called pretty because of my long dirty blonde hair, cascading down my back and stopping under my breasts. My eyes changed colors, from bright green, to sparkling blue. I wasn't really skinny, but I was average. I was short, petite. I had curves, but not the noticable. Sure, I had okay boobs, but not out there boobs. And I was fine with that, I liked my body. It had taken me years to accept my body, but I had. My older sister hadn't helped. She was absolute perfection. She had the same length hair, platinum blonde. Her eyes were the palest, prettiest blue there is. Her face was heartshaped, perfect. She was so skinny, people asked if she ate. And she does. She was almost never single, men all over her all the time. She had always been more popular than me. She'd always been just a little better at everything. She was now studying to be a doctor, at Harvard. She was there on a scholarship. I loved her to death, but it seemed like she always tried to outshine me. When I annouced I was moving to New York, she announced she was pregnant. It was a scare, but she thought she was. When I graduated high school, she announced she was engaged. She left him at the last second, saying he was too controlling. All he did was tell her she needed to spend less on shopping. She loved shopping and hated when people talked about her habit. I was so glad she wasn't in the same house as me anymore. I turned to look inside the window, looking at the line of customers waiting for their coffee. I wonder where they're going, who they are. Do they have kids? Do they have a job? I always wonder about people. What they're like. I wonder if people think about me like that.
"Jordyn, hey!" My friend, Robyn called from down the street. I waved and she hurried over to me. I met her on my flight to New York. She was going to the same city and the same school. It was friendship at first sight, as she said.
"Oh my god girl, I have so much to tell you!!" She cried.
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