Not the Same

As a child, she had an easy life. A family that loved her, classmates that admired her, and friends that cherished her. After her older sister's death and her best friends' sudden move out of the city, nothing felt the same for her, both physically and mentally. Growing up, she learned how to hide her pain behind her smile. 9 years later, sixteen year old Carter Smith is excited for her friends to come back. But with a new school year comes new classmates. Will the new guys who call themselves JML change how she feels about the friends she has now?
please be warned that this is my first fanfic so... hope you like it :) COPYRIGHT (c)


13. Girls

Carter's P.O.V.

Looking at the calender, I saw the date circled with red marker. 10 more day until Scarlett was coming back! Finally, a girl to talk to. Not that hanging out with the guys is bad. They're actually pretty cool to be around. It's just that I can't talk to any of them about, you know, girl stuff. I've tried to talk to her for the past few days, but she hasn't responded to any of my e-mails texts or calls. If there's something bothering her, why isn't she telling me anything? Will things be awkward when we meet?

When I left the house, I was surprised to not see Kevin waiting for me even though he and Callum told me last night that they were going to school earty for their first soccer tournament of the year. I guess I was going to school by myself today.

As I made my way to school, I suddenly thought about the reasons why I find it hard making girl friends. For one, they seem all friendly to you on the outside, but once you're gone, they start talking about them behind their back. Sometimes even I think that girls are scary. For example, when you pass by the group of Popular Girls at school, they approach you and start saying, "Omg, your skirt is soo cute! Where did you get it?" And then you're all like, "Oh, thanks. I got is at American Eagle," and turn around. But once you're gone, they start saying stuff like, "OMG she's such a nun," "That was so last season," or "Haha, she's so ugly!" It can either go both ways; people who don't know you treat you nice but talk bull about you after, or it's your friends doing it. When it comes to friends, they hang out with you because of the things they can give you: good grades, gossip, or even money. Yes, money. Be friends with the the most popular and richest girl in school and you've hit the jackpot. The money can be in the form of clothes, make-up, jewelry. I can't stand it. Getting of the bus, I passed by a bunch of girls with make-up layering their faces gossiping with each other about the new One Direction video that was released last night.

Another thing I hate about girls nowadays is the way they dress. I get it. As a teenage girl, looks matter. But must they cover their faces with loads of make-up to try and look pretty? Sure, use a bit of lipgloss, mascara and eyeliner and you're good to go. But add eyeshadow, lipstick, blush, foundation; personally, I find it too much. And also, do you really have to hike your skirts so high and wear tops so low? You may look pretty, but you look fake. It's like saying, "Oh, let me put on loads of make up and wear this really revealing shirt to find a guy that likes me for my personality." Like really? Please, just stop.

Passing the crowd of people hanging around in the hallway, I opening the classroom door to see that I was second to arrive to class. Looking around the classroom, it's just me and a girl named Alexandra Ferguson. The six seats next to mine were empty . A few days ago, JML kept asking me to join the mathletes with them. Today, they had their first competition. Too bad my love for math can't overcome my fear of being asked questions in front of people. I take my place in front of Alexandra.

"Good morning," I said placing my books on my desk.

"Oh, good morning Carter," she replied looking up from her English textbook as she pushed her glasses higher on her face. She was a plain girl, who not many boys would look twice at, with long brown hair and thick glasses. Unlike most of the girls in highschool, she didn't fold her kilt up. All I knew about her was that she was probably the smartest, and quitest, person in class. Thinking she would be an ok person to talk to, I took out my English textbook and turned around.

"Um, you're in my English class, right? I have a question about the homework she assigned," I asked her. Without saying anything, she just blankly stared at me.

"Haha, that was my lame attempt at starting a conversation," I said with a nervous laugh.

"Sorry. It's just that not many people choose to talk to me," she responded shyly.

"Well, today is your lucky day! Here is a perfect human being conversing with you in the language which we call English," I replied. At that, I was able to make her laugh.  

"Well, it's not like we know how to perfectly converse in french," she said, smiling.

"Actually, I think I'm failing french," I whispered to her. At that, we both laughed. She was a pretty easy person to talk to. Just like that, we just clicked. The bell rang and Mr. Hayes entered the classroom signaling the start of a new school day.


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