ELLE-avation

Her initials are E.H. So weird. People look up to her, almost hinting I'm supposed to, but I don't. To E.H.? Please. I point and laugh at all of them, calling them airheads, dumb blondes, idiots, barbie dolls under my breath. They have ears like hawks. Any slight insults make the jittery to share with thier queen, thier goddess, that E.H.They want to share gossip they found with her, to make her mad at me and proud of them. If I stop, they have nothing to talk to her about. She pretends I killed someone when she finds out, and almost explodes when she talks to me. She's It repeats for most of the year periodically, then-nothing. Fake smiles and awkward friendly comment-'trying to be nice', she says. Offers to go to the mall, like she thinks I was serious when I said I was jealous of her. Jealous for what? Being worshipped by every moron in the school? I turned all of the offers down cautiously, while being watched with uneeded eyes.'Just trying to be nice'. They love her makeup, her laugh, her perfect body. She knows they watch, but she is no different. Then makeup. Thick concealer and eyeliner, whirling out of her bag and dancing on her chest and face spins into a mask of self concious perfection. "I look like crap" moans the mask. An eyeroll from me when the Uggs tap out. So weird.