Could I Be That Girl

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is a story similar to Beauty and the Beast, only the girl is the Beast, aka, the outsider, the 'loser', 'freak', etc.

Submitted: May 25, 2011

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Submitted: May 25, 2011

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He keeps looking at me.

I'm in Science class right now, and he won't stop staring. I can feel his piercing blue eyes, like lasers, burning holes through my black shirt. I toss my dark hair in front of my face, and hunch over my notebook. I have to ignore it. I get stared at all the time, so this isn't new.

I'm Kara, the weirdo. The freaky emo girl with the purple eyes. The one with the long black hair, who wears too much eyeliner, and always wears black. The one always gripping her sketchbook and notebook, like a life preserver. So yeah, I'm used to the stares.

I turn around slightly, and see him. His dark longish brown hair hangs over one eye, and his mouth is upturned slightly. He wears a bemused expression. I scowl, and turn forwards once more. Jerk.

That's Mike Growsky, the hottest guy at school. He's on the basketball team, so that along with his looks make him the most desired guy in the eleventh grade. I sigh inwardly, and continue to doodle in my sketchbook. My drawing is coming out really good, despite the distraction. It's a girl, sitting on a huge rose, with blood pouring down like rain. I smile despite myself. Drawing always manages to calm me down. That, and writing poetry.

The bell rings, so I quickly stand up and gather my things. But before I can start walking, Mike comes up to me.

"Kara, right?" he asks, his dazzling smile nearly blinding me. My cheeks flush, and I curse under my breath.

"What's it to you?" I say, looking down at my old combat boots. I hear him laugh softly.

"I just was wondering if you'd like to go to the dance with me."

Time seems to stop. The class gets quiet. All eyes are on me. I hate this.

"Um, no." I stammer, trying to sidestep him. He blocks me.

"Why not?" he asks, looking at me intently.

"Because," I say, trying to walk away. He nods, and puts his hand in his pocket. He pulls out a paper and pen, and scribbles something onto it. He hands it to me.

"Call me if you change your mind." he says quietly, and walks away. I look at the paper in my hand, dumbfounded. The whispering starts, and I walk out the room, into the crowded hallway. That was weird.

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I'm sitting at home, coloring in the drawing I did earlier. The sweet croons of My Chemical Romance fills the air, and I set down my sketchbook onto the wide bed. I look over at the paper on my dresser, and glance away. Why would he ask me? Of all people? He was probably just screwing around. That's just the number to a pizza shop. My hands tingle, and my curiosity wins this fight. I grab the paper, and pick up my cellphone. Before I can chicken out, I dial his number. It rings for a long time, and I consider hanging up. Before I can, I hear his voice on the other line.

"Hello?" he asks sleepily.

"Oh, did I wake you up?" I ask, hoping he'll say yes so that I can hang up.

"Kind of, but who's this?" he asks.

"It's Kara.." I say, uncertainly. I place the cell in the crook of my neck, and place my hands underneath me. My heart is beating rapidly, and I suddenly feel cold.

"Oh, hi! Did you change your mind?" he asks. I can hear the happiness in his voice.

"I don' know yet. But why would you want to go with me?" I ask honestly. I shut my eyes, waiting for a reply. He doesn't say anything for a moment.

"Because, you seem...interesting. I want to know more about you." he finally says.

"So I'm just a subject you want to study? A mountain to conquer?" I ask, indignant.

"Kind of." he says simply. I'm taken a back by his frankness.

"Fine." I say stubbornly, "I'll go to the dance with you."

I don't know why I say that. I'll absolutely hate it, and I don't even have a dress. I'm a loner, he's a pop. How the hell would that ever work?

"Great!" he says, "Well, I've got to go. See you in school tomorrow!"

That was completely and utterly bizarre.

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The next day, I walk into school. I can tell people were talking about me, because as soon as I walk through the doors, everyone goes silent. This sucks. I clutch my sketchbook to me tightly, and hike up my bag higher onto my shoulder. I continue walking, as the crowd seems to part. I'm thankful that my hair covers my face, keeping everyone from seeing me blush. I scurry into class, math. I settle down into my seat, and look straight ahead. The teacher begins to drone on about numbers and equations, and I turn to look out the window.

I find my self dozing off, and I'm startled by the bell, announcing next period. I rub at my eyes, and stand up. I take up my bag and notebooks, and stride out the door, trying to ignore the stares. It's going to be a long day...
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.
By the end of the day, I've been stared at a thousand times or so, and walked into bustling classrooms, only to have them go silent as soon as I walk in. The stares and whispers are worse than usual, all because Mike asked me to the dance. And now, with it being one day away, I have to buy a dress.

Once I get home, I change quickly into a plaid knee length skirt, and a dark purple turtle neck, and head out the door. With my mp3 clutched tightly in my hands, I hop on my rusty old bike and make my way towards my favorite thrift shop. Once I reach there, I hop off my bike, and stick my mp3 into my skirt's pocket. I stride into the store, the familiar scent of jasmine tea hitting me.

The store's owner, Cassie, walks towards me. Her round cheeks are red, and her green eyes shine. Her shorts wavy brown hair is tied up in a messy bun, and she's wearing a long bohemian styled dress.

"Hello Kara! Your aura is especially pink today!" she exclaims, opening her arms for a hug. I submit, and breath in the scent of vanilla and chai tea. She really likes tea. She always seems to know when I'm coming, and makes sure to have a pot ready. I pull away.

"So, is this a courtesy visit?" she asks, smiling.37

"Yes, but I'm also on a mission." I say. She nods.

"Prom dress?" she asks, looking at me.

"Yeah," I answer, not bothering to ask how she guessed. She has killer intuition. She grabs my wrist, and pulls me to the back of the store. There's a rack of dresses, all different colors. She stops and pulls out and armful, and places them on the chair behind her.

After trying ten dresses on to no avail, I slump onto the chair. But then, my eye catches a long, black dress, that seems to glitter in the light.

"Can I see that one?" I ask, pointing towards it. She smiles her Cassie smile, and walks over. She picks it up, and holds it for me to see. It's absolutely mind blowing.

It has a sweetheart neckline, lined with black, intricate lace. The midsection is tight, but then, it flares out, like and old-fashioned gown. The bottom is lined with the same lace. It's jet black, but it still has that glittering quality. The sleeves are fitted to three quarters length, but then they also flare out the rest of the way. I love it. I reach out tentatively, and touch it. It feels like silk.

"May I," I begin to ask. She nods. I take it up, careful not to drag it on the floor, and head towards the fitting room. I quickly change into it. It fits perfectly, and when I see myself, I can''t believe who I'm looking at. I walk back out, and Cassie stares at me, a dumbfounded look on her face.

"That's the one," she says, nearly whispering. She hands me a steaming cup of tea. I take it gratefully.

"So, I guess I'm getting this one."

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.
It's the day of the dance, almost the end of school. I'm fidgety. Even though it's probably a pity date, I'm kind of excited. I raise my hand and ask for a bathroom pass. The teacher hands one over, and I walk down the hall towards the girls' bathroom. I just want to get out of class, really.

When I walk in, I'm nearly choked by the scent of perfume and hairspray. I see three girls standing there, obvious Pops. They have the too-skinny bodies, that bored look on their overly make-uped face, and the perfect hair. I make a move to turn around, but before I can, one of them has walked over and grabbed my hand. She has a surprisingly strong grip.

"Hey, you freak," she says, her words cutting into my skin.

"What," I mumble, trying to yank my arm away. No use. I turn towards her, and put on my best scowl.

"Just because Mike is going with you to the dance doesn't mean anything," she continues, her followers nodding in agreement.

I shrug, successfully pull away my arm, and run out the bathroom. I will not let some Barbie high off of hairspray, get to me.

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It's time. Will, not really. I'm finishing my makeup. I decided to tone down the eyeliner, and already have my dress down. I've put on smokey eyeshadow, and even some blush. As I stare at my reflection, I can't help but smile. I look nice.

Because school isn't far away, and it's nice and cool outside, I decide to walk. I pick up the skirt of my dress, not wanting to dirty it, and head out the door. Before I can escape, my mother takes a few pictures of me, her cheeks red, her eyes shining brightly. Her long brown hair bounces as she jumps around, and my dad looks on proudly. They are such weirdos...

I soon arrive at school, and walk slowly into the gymnasium. As I enter, I get the creepy feeling that everyone was talking about me. Because, suddenly, it goes quiet. Everyone seems to look at me, and I concentrate on the floor, not even bothering to look at the cheesy decorations. A hand touches my shoulder, causing me to look up. It's Mike. And he looks really handsome. He's smiling, and a dimple I never noticed appears.

"Hi," he says, his eyes never leaving mine. "Can I have this dance?'. I nod numbly, as he takes my hand. He leads me to the middle of the floor, as the music picks up. I love this song, by Avril Lavigne, and I feel myself get lost in the music. I barely notice when the song ends. Mike is looking at me again, an amused smile playing on his lips. I feel myself blush.

"You're a pretty good dancer," he says, his hand pressing against my back. A slow song begins, and my hands find themselves around his broad shoulders.

"You're not so bad yourself," I say. Wait, I'm flirting? I didn't even know I knew how to do that.

I put my head on his shoulder, and am surprised when my hair doesn't cover my face. Then I remember that my mom insisted on me wearing my hair up.

"You look really beautiful," he whispers. We talk for the next four dances, never leaving each other's side.

"You write poems?" he asks, surprised.

"Yeah, but I've never showed any one any of them," I says, blushing again.

"Maybe I could see one one day?" he asks, genuinely interested. I nod, smiling. He leaves to get us fruit punch, and the same girls from earlier come into view.

"You stupid loser," she hisses, standing in front of me. Her skimpy dress nearly makes me gag, it's bright yellow color clashing severely with her tanned skin.

"You do know that this was a bet, right?" she continues, her faithful followers nodding along in agreement.

"What are you talking about?" I ask, folding my arms in front of me.

"The basketball team had a bet on who'd bring the biggest loser to the dance. Who ever brought the biggest weirdo would win. I guess the prize goes to Mike."

I gasp, despite myself, and stand up with a start. As I dash out the room, I can see Mike calling for me, a confused look on his face.

I burst out into the cool, quiet night, and feel tears well up in my eyes.

Why should I care? Did I actually think I had a chance? That someone like him would like someone like me?

I did. And I hate myself for it. I cry, loud, sloppy tears, my shoulders shaking. I hear the doors open, and hear his voice.

"Kara, what's wrong?" he calls out, drawing nearer.

"Go away!" I say, not wanting to talk to him. How dare he come after me, knowing what he did.

"What happened? Please tell me," he pleads.

"You lied, " I shout, turning around to face him. "She told me about your bet."

His face falls, and his cheeks go red. His blue eyes are dark with worry, sadness and regret.

"I'm so sorry,' he whispers. He reaches out, and pulls me towards him, hugging me tightly.

"At first it was a bet, but as soon as I saw you tonight, I forgot about it," he continues. I shake my head.

"You're lying," I mumble into his chest. It starts to rain, not very hard.

"I'm not, I promise. Everything I've said tonight is true," he assures me, stroking my hair softly. He pulls me away, and looks at me.

"Please believe me Kara. I really like you." I'm scared to believe him, but when I look back at him, I know that I can. He looks so honest, and sad. I nod slightly, and lean into him again, hugging him. We stand like that for a while, in the rain, hugging each other, afraid to let go. He pulls away, and looks up.

"When did it start raining?" he asks, smiling slightly. I laugh, and pull on his arm.

"Come on! We might have time for the last dance!". We run into the gym, wet, shivering, and laughing. Ignoring the stares, we go to the middle of the floor once more, and dance.

Who'd ever think that I'd be that girl? The happy one? The one with the loving boyfriend, the one always smiling? Well, I'm that girl now. And I'm never looking back.


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