I'd Rather People Hate Me For Who I Am Than Love Me For Who I'm Not

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4. 4:

 

The lunch bell rang and Cara picked up her books, heading towards her locker. She groaned upon reaching it. They had kicked it in again. She just carried her bag around all lunch.

 As always, she walked around to the back of the school. She walked towards the trees, having completely what happened in the bus. A figure stood there. She stopped dead in her tracks and the figure turned around.

 Her sandwich dropped out of her hand as she stared at him. "Mike?" she choked out.

 "Who's Mike?" Of course it wasn't Mike.

 "He'll never come back. Stop hoping. He's gone," she thought.

 "Hello?" His voice pulled her back into reality.

 "Nobody. Who are you?"

 "I'm Jack. Come here." For some unknown reason, she obeyed, taking slow steps towards him. "They hate you, don't they?"

 "So?"

 "I know how to make that change."

 "You're going to brainwash them?" she said sarcastically.

 "No, I'm not going to change them. I'm going to change you."

 "What did I do wrong?"

 "Not much. First thing you have to do is go to church on Saturday and Sunday. Pretend you're Catholic. You should die your hair brown and straighten it. Start wearing make-up. Believe me, it'll work." And with that, he left, walking across the fields behind the school.

 "I'll do a temporary dye," Cara decided. She sat down under the shade of the trees and took a drink from her water bottle. She daydreamed until the bell went, signalling the end of lunch.

 Nothing they did bothered her. She was too excited about the prospect of changing completely. Her mother had make-up. She'd just borrow some of that.

 

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