Year: 2000

"Good job. Now put your hair like that. And that outfit. How very. Good job Janis," Heather says as I get ready for my first day of fifth grade. "And now for the makeup."

"Makeup?" I hear my mom enter the room, giving Heather a look. Heather rolls her eyes at mom.

"Oh don't be such a pillowcase Veronica. It's only lipstick."

"Riiight," my mother says, unconvinced.

"Come on Veronica! I wore a full face a makeup at her age."

"No Heather. No makeup yet. Wait until Middle School."

"What's this about makeup?" my brother asks. He walks into the room and looks at me with makeup supplies on a desk converted to a vanity. "And why does Janis get some?!"

"She doesn't," my mom responds, deftly clearing up the makeup. "Now, everyone down for breakfast in ten minutes, or you won't be able to get a ride with Martha." My mom walks out and down the stairs. Damien flops about in my room, completely ready and bored.

"Get out Damien! I'm not ready for school yet. Go help mom with breakfast!"

"But-" I give him the look Heather taught me, that scares off everyone and anyone, except maybe my mom. "Fine. See you in ten Janis."

When he gets out Heather looks me up and down.

"You look very nice Janice. Normally I don't like pink, but it suits you." I stare at my pink clad self in the mirror, very happy with my look.

"Yeah, I'd look better though if I had blonde hair."

"I'll convince her to let you dye it soon," Heather says, smiling with pride. "Now go downstairs."

I wave goodbye to Heather, who waves back faded out while coughing up something blue. I go down to the bright blue kitchen, which smells like toast and eggs.

"Just in time Janis, now hurry, Martha will be here with Karen any minute." Karen is Aunt Martha's and Aunt Heather's daughter. She's kinda dumb, but very sweet and very pretty.

After a quick breakfast, Aunt Martha almost immediately arrives. She cheerfully drives us to our elementary school and drops us off.

"Hey Karen, were in class together!" I excitedly shout.

"I do too Janis, thanks for asking."

"I didn't. Karen, Karen? Karen where are you going?"

"To my homeroom," she says pointing at a locker. I quietly laugh and grab her arm.

"No, our classroom's over there," I say, pointing to a nice looking room, that says Welcome to Fifth Grade.

As I walk into the classroom, I get the sense that this year is going to be great!