"Gee Janey, that's a really nice tent and all, but you were supposed to bring your P.E. kit!" Shouts Melody.
Wow, last day at school until half term and the taunting won't stop for ONE day. Must be a world record for her.
As her stuck-up cronies laugh and unbutton their school shirts, revealing perfectly tanned and slim stomachs, I quickly rip my shirt off and wriggle into my P.E. top.
"Gee Melody, that's a really nice face and all, but you're not supposed to use a shovel for your make-up." I retort.
She glares at me with pure hate and anger. No change there then.
I turn around to walk out of the changing rooms, and Melody falls back, over-reacting. "Woah Janey, big ass much?" Ignoring her remark, I trudge off to the tennis courts to get 'accidently' hit in the face with a tennis ball.
"Yo Jane! Wait up!" A familiar voice booms behind me.
"Hey Harley, how was physical education?" I say, mocking his P.E. teacher.
He smirks and replies, "Crap."
Harley is my best friend. We met in Year 7 at the beginning of the school year, when I had absolutely no idea where the Art block was and he didn't either, so we both got lost together. It kind of just carried on from there, he didn't make many friends either because he actually cares about personality and not looks.
At break time, we buy our usual carton of juice and go and sit in our special spot. The place we sit in every day.
"So, didja get hassled USA stylee?" Harley says.
We tend to say that Melody has a USA stylee as she tends to put on a horrific american accent because she's quarter american.
"Yup. But hey, what's new there?" I say.
I look up from my lap to see Daniel Roberts casually strolling past, patting his floppy blond fringe back in place and ignoring me and Harley, like everyone else.
Harley notices me staring and says, "You like Daniel?" "Come on Harley, who doesn't?" "Well, he couldn't turn me gay!" He laughs.
His laugh is so stupidly funny I can't help but burst into laughter too.
Eventually, the bell rings signalling the end of school. "SCHOOL'S OUT!" We both shout and chase each other all the way down the street, on our way home.
Sometimes, we really are childish.