I walk up to the teacher, since class has not officially started, and Show him my schedule. he doesn't see me at first, and looks at my paper. Then he looks up and the smile is frozen on his face. I can see his eyes moving over my body.
I am used to this, and try not to let it irritate me. Every now and then, I will get so pissed, that I will do something. That something usually makes me have to move. When he is done, he says welcome. He looks me in the eye, and I can see his smile is bigger than before.
Men have been doing this since I was twelve, and started "developing". I wish I had a mom to help me, but I don't. She died because of me, and I will never fix it. I wish I didn't have a dad, but I do. He has been taken away until I am 18. Which is soon. This was done to protect me.
I would have worn more conservative clothes, but it was to warm for that. I probably didn't have to wear heels and a miniskirt, but it seemed like fun. I probably could have put on an actual shirt, rather than three tank-tops and a bra. You could call me bi-polar, but I am not. I just can never make up my mind. I like to feel beautiful, even when it annoys me that other people enjoy it more than me sometimes.
When he tells me to sit in the only empty seat, I can see he is sad. The empty seat is near the back. I cast my blue eyes over the class, and see all the boys staring. I can also see most of the girls glaring. I immediately can tell who used to be the populars, and they are whispering and smiling and looking at me with calculating eyes. They know that if I join them, they become more popular too.
Well, that never changes.