Anonymous

She is beautiful - there is no doubt about that. She has big brown eyes with long, thick, curly eyelashes. She has pale but healthy skin, and long, wavy, black hair. Her cheeks are rosy, and she doesn’t wear makeup, nor does she need it. But, like many other teenage girls, she doesn’t notice her beauty. She doesn’t notice when people stare at her full lips, or her long, shapely legs - whether in envy or admiration. She misunderstands her tall figure as awkward and gangly. She considers herself one of the “plain” girls at her school, invisible to all, which may be ironic, since her name means beautiful. Indeed, Caoimhe is a beautiful – and intelligent – young woman who can't accept her beauty.

(Caoimhe’s POV)

As I drove through the familiar streeets, a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach began to bubble. I felt my eyes droop, so I turned up the volume on my iPod which was connected to the stereo. It blasted through the car’s speakers loud enough to keep me awake. I groaned as I saw the school ahead. Thomas Jefferson High School, a prison camouflaged as a harmless public school, where multiple cliques loitered at the front, trying to soak up a few more rays of sun before they were locked up inside the masked prison for the rest of the day. It was the first day of my junior year, and I was already dreading the pile of homework that was always assigned the first few weeks. It seemed as if the teachers had a competition to see who could hand out the most homework on the first day of school.

(¶)As I found my usual parking spot - the one under the giant oak tree in the farthest corner of the student parking lot - I saw a group of nervous freshmen entering the building, keeping their eyes on the upperclassmen and staying away from trash cans. I laughed and looked out of the windshield and watched as other students began to gather and hang around the forest near where I was parked. I grumbled, hoping that they would leave soon. The only reason I parked here was to get as far away as possible from crowds and all the stress, gossip, rumors, and crap that came along with trying to have a decent social life in high school. Now the “popular” people were invading my private domain to hang out, make out, and whatnot.

I mentally sighed as I sat in my black Saturn Hybrid, a gift I had received for my sixteenth last year. I loved it even though my parents bought it used. I was just happy to have a car. I rested my head on the oh-so-comfy seat, and wondered if I should suck it up and go inside, or go back home and sleep for the rest of the day. The latter seemed much more appealing, since I wasn’t exactly a morning person, but if anything remotely exciting were to happen, I didn't want to miss it. Alek, my bestest friend ever - well best guy friend ever - was always at his craziest the first and last two weeks of school, so I was anxious to see what he would pull off today. But sleep seemed to beckon me.

(¶)I closed my eyes and listened to Taking Back Sunday, which was currently blasting through the car speakers, and soothing me for some strange reason. I was dozing off when I heard a knock at my window. My eyes flew open and I whipped my head to look at who had disturbed me, and there he was, all six feet of him. His dark hair hung slightly in his eyes, which were looking straight into mine. Alek started wiggling his eyebrows and making funny faces at me. I laughed and rolled down the window. “Welcome to McAlek’s, may I take your order?” he asked in that extremely deep voice of his.

“May I please get some brains to go along with that ridiculous personality?” I replied. “Anything for you, Love," he murmured in a horrible British accent. He patted my head affectionately. I smacked his hand and began to crack up.

“Ow, that hurt! I thought I was your best friend!” he cried. I just chuckled again and rubbed the hand that I had smacked.

“You are my best friend, and that’s the only reason that I’m rubbing your gigantic paw. If you weren’t my best friend, I would probably run you over with my car for pretending to hit on me.”

“How do you know I was pretending? For all you know I have a gigantic crush on you, but I’m just hiding it so that our friendship won’t get ruined…” he whispered as he gave me a mischievous look.

“I know you're lying because that is super cliché, and I know you hate clichés, and that’s impossible. We’ve been best friends since like, seventh grade, and you are gay.” I replied.

“Ah, true. You really are my best friend. You’re the only one who can tell if I’m just joking around,” he said as I reached to unplug my iPod from the car.

“No, don’t!” he screamed in my ear. I looked at him as if he were insane - which I’m sure he is - and reached for my backpack instead, which was in the passenger seat. I stayed in my seat with my black backpack in my lap. I raised an eyebrow at him, signaling him to explain.

“This is my jam! You know that Kee!” he exclaimed. I listened to what song was playing and I realized that it was playing Taste of Ink by The Used, which was his absolutely favorite song.

“Alek, that song is so old. It is a good one, though, or else I wouldn’t have it on my 'First Day of School' playlist,” I claimed. I always made a playlist the night before the first day of school, knowing I would need something to lift my spirits. Although I don’t even know why I bothered since I had Alek. He was like living, breathing entertainment.

“This calls for a round of random dancing!” he shouted as he opened my door and pulled me out of the car. He put his hands on my hips and shook them for me.

“Come on, you’re supposed to be dancing! That’s why it’s called random dancing, emphasis on the dancing part,” he whined. I took his hands off of me, put them on his head, and held them there.

“Well, it’s not really random dancing when there’s music on, is it?” I questioned. He frowned at my suggestion, but started dancing anyway, shaking his hips. He grabbed my arms and waved them around above my head.

“Oh well, let’s dance anyway,” he insisted. I sighed and removed my arms from his grip. I unplugged my iPod from the car stereo and looked around to make sure no one was staring. When the music was off, Alek looked at me as if I was Satan himself.

“You are so mean!” he pouted. He noticed my backpack lying on the ground by my feet and took it while I locked my car. He pulled the straps over his arms so the pouch that held all of my things stuck out like a second stomach, and a huge one at that. He started rubbing it and making strange noises that I thought were creepy, but to him, they sounded soothing, I guess.

“Aww baby, when are you coming out? I wonder if you’re a girl or a boy… Oh I’m so excited!” he cooed in a falsetto. He turned around to look at me with wide, round eyes.

“What do you think the baby is, Sweetie?” he murmured in my ear. I giggled and tried to grab my backpack from him. He jumped like a frightened animal and accused me of trying to steal his baby. I gave him the evil eye and stuck my hand out, but instead of returning it, he started running, flailing his arms and yelling like a madman. I ran after him, hoping no one would stare. No such luck. Especially around Alek.

“HELP! HELP! That crazy woman is trying to steal my BABY!” he yelled while pointing back at me. I ran faster and felt my face turn red from embarrassment and exertion. I wasn’t used to running; I hadn’t run for about four months. He turned around, running backwards, but as soon as he saw my expression, the smirk on his face vanished. He mouthed the words “Oh no” about two seconds before I tackled him. He landed on his back, as I straddled his chest. I was panting, my face red as a tomato, and I could feel sweat popping out of my pores. He laced his fingers behind his head and looked at me through half closed eyelids.

“Well, hello there, little lady. What can I do fer ya?” he drawled in a thick Texas accent. I scowled down at him and slipped my backpack from his wide shoulders. I stuck out my hand to help him up and he took it. After he was up, I looked around. We had acquired quite a crowd after the whole fiasco. I blushed a deep red and muttered “You owe me big time.”

“Sorry darlin’, I didn’t quite catch that.” He replied as he slipped his arm around my shoulders, letting his big hand dangle. I scoffed and looked at him sideways, once again giving him the evil eye.

“Oh that’s right little bit, you don’t like crowds. 'Specially not when they’re oglin' ya. Now, the way I see it, you should let a man look when he wants to look. There ain’t no harm in lookin' is there?” I opened my mouth to respond with some witty remark, but he kept going.

“Now don’t worry darlin’. I’ll help you get rid of that there phobier. Really, all y'all needs is a bit more confidence. You a pretty little lady, and it’s a sad character flaw to be shy, it is,” he drawled on.

“God Alek, sometimes I fear you have a multiple personality disorder,” I mocked.

“Oh, don’t worry, I got that checked out already and my psychiatrist says I’m perfectly fine.” He said, deadly serious. I looked at him as if he had three heads. He just laughed and kept walking to our homeroom.