Bad Girls

Episode 1 (^_−)

Libia's eyes were drooping as she pulled up to the school. Her long lashes brushing her cheeks with how tired she was. She knew this day would not be easy. The first day of school never is.

Her hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, her school uniform messily thrown on. The night before had been filled with nightmares about this day, for Libia Fields was not the best at making friends. In fact, she'd been deemed the loner because she was just too shy to make friends. 

She was pretty, no doubt, with a heart-shaped face, long, wavy, raven black hair and chocolate brown eyes. Of course, she didn't see her beauty as others did. Who does?

If you asked a beautiful woman what she thought of herself - honestly, and with no embellishments - she'd tell you that she thought her butt was too fat, or that her face was too chubby, or that she had no curves or something of the sort. Libia, of course, wore makeup, did her hair when she felt like it, and sat at home watching comedies and reading books when she wasn't in the dance studio or studying. Every girl once or twice a week looks at herself in the mirror and thinks, "I'm fabulous today." and then the next day, they look at themselves and wonder how they came to that conclusion.

Episode 2 (^_−)

And Libia was no different. Of course, the eighteen year old girl had no intentions of making friends this year, as she hadn't every year. But as we all know, intentions are not always set in stone.

So, Libia entered the school, looking in envy at the girls with perfect blond hair and barbie doll complexions. Not knowing that she herself, was getting looks of envy.

She crossed her arms, trying to make herself as small as possible so no one would notice her. A trait she'd picked up from her shy ways. She wished she'd left her hair down, so it could shield her face from the curious on-lookers. Her mother, a boisterous woman with a big personality, had moved Libia here over the summer in hopes for a fresh start, so she had no idea what to expect from these kids, or who to avoid. She had no doubt that these kids knew each other, and that she was as much a stranger to them as they were to her. Already, she could hear people asking about her, hear the whispers, the rumors that had already circulated. Libia, even though she'd moved here in the middle of the Summer, had talked to no one in the town. They'd seen her walking the streets to reach her dance class, or stopping at Starbucks are her way back, and they'd created rumors about her. It was only natural that, since they had no solid facts, they'd let their mouths run as their minds wondered.


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