Lydia

After prom night, I sank into a level of depression that hurt so bad. Flashbacks of my past kept walking in, like little demons dancing in my head with wicked glee. There was something odious about depression. Nothing good ever came out of it.

On the outside, people saw a happy, beautiful girl with good grades and a bunch of cool friends. I wore clothes, although second hand, that were considered by many as fashionable. I didn't go out of my way to hurt anyone, and I did my best to be kind to others.

Teachers said I had an analytical mind but tended to over-analyze situations, which often led to missed opportunities because I saw them as risks.

Why was I holding back? What was I afraid of?

People did not know, or some rather forgot, the real me-the person behind the mask.

In grade eight, most students saw me as an overweight and relatively plain girl who wore braces on her teeth.

I was also either bullied or ignored. I did not know which was worse of the two evils: being verbally abused or unheard. When I spoke up, people did not hear my voice. It was the queen bees and the alphas whose voices were heard more often than mine. Girls like Reggie, who spoke out and made bold statements, were also seen and heard.

Gorgeous guys, like Devon Declan, walked the hallways like kings, with girls like Elsie and Katie.

I was invisible. That was how I felt when I walked along the hallways of junior high school. Every day was Groundhog Day.

When we sat on the bleachers in the gym hall to cheer the sporting teams, I watched Carrie and the other cheerleaders dance, shout and rally up the crowd. I saw people talking and cheering. I also overheard Katie and Crystal mention my name. Katie called me a 'nerd,' and Crystal laughed. "NERD!" Caleb Humphreys, who sat next to Katie, shouted at me when I looked at him.

During lunch breaks in the canteen, I avoided people like Caleb. He once pushed me deliberately while I held my lunch tray, causing the contents to spill on my clothes and on the floor. You would think that among the sea of faces that stared at me, someone would have stood up to him. Nobody offered to help. I felt humiliated and utterly alone. Later on, Carrie came to the cafeteria, looking for me, and found me crying in the toilets.

"Don't let them hurt you, Lyds. You are worth more than all of them in one room," she said, as she helped to clean up the mess on my clothes and skin.

At sports class the following week, Caleb sneakily untied my shoelaces, while I was not aware when we were standing in line to do runs. When it was my turn to run, I took a bad fall and cracked my wrist.

I had to wear a cast for a couple of weeks. I overheard Caleb brag to his friends that he untied NERD's shoelaces and that the fall was funny to watch. I was too scared to tell my parents the truth about my fall, for the fear of Mom lashing out against Caleb's parents and the situation turning ugly. I was already suffering enough.

The bullying did not stop there. Once, somebody put a sign on my back that stated, 'kick me.' Another time, somebody called out 'Blobby lobby Lydia' during swim class. One joke that referred to my smile was 'clickety-clack, railroad tracks.'

I tried to join in on making jokes in class before the teacher came in. Unfortunately, I spoke up at the same time as Crystal, who gave me a death stare.

"Lydia? Is that your name?" she commanded me to answer her.

"Yes."

"You're not funny. Period. Don't even try." She turned her back, flicked her beautiful, dark hair, and the world went on, laughing and carrying away with jokes that flew across the classroom.

Caleb and co once took a snapshot of my backside and posted it to his entire social media network, with one line: Rump steak? The comments streamed in the replies: 'Too many donuts,' laughing and evil smiley faces and 'Bulimia is the cure.' In my senior year, bulimia did become a part of my life, but instead of being a cure, it was a disease. A sick, disgusting disease.

I hated school.

I once had a crush on a boy named Billy, who was very much like Jake. He was an all-rounder and sporty. He was kind to most people around him. We were study buddies for an English assignment. He was in the advanced English program, together with me. He showed all the signs that he liked me and paid me sweet compliments.

Once he looked into my eyes while we were reading Walt Whitman's O Captain! My Captain! and said I was beautiful. I believed him. He was my first major crush. Like Jake, Billy was the kind of guy I wanted to be with, not guys like Devon, who were shallow and behaved like the mafia kings of high school.

At a school dance before the summer, I saw Billy standing with Zach and Greg. I was with Carrie and Reggie. Carrie wore a miniskirt and a white top. I really wanted to wear that white top, but I couldn't fit into it. I was at least two sizes bigger than Carrie at the time. Reggie started experimenting with colors in her hair and tried purple.

I wore my hair out and styled it in waves. I picked out a light pink dress that I thought looked beautiful at a second-hand store. It had a small stain, but it was not so noticeable. You would have to look really hard to see it. Pink, at the time, was my favorite color.

"Carrie, there's Billy!" My heart was palpitating, and I was sweating under my arms. My hands were clammy, and all I wanted to do was go over to the other side of the dance floor, where Billy was standing, and plant him a big kiss on his beautiful lips.

"Let's go over there and say hello to the boys," Carrie winked at me. Reggie was crushing on Zach at the time, so she happily agreed to greet the boys.

As we walked up to them, I smiled at Billy. He looked at me, and I thought there was a flicker of interest in his eyes, but he continued talking to Zach and Greg.

"Hey guys, did you notice Mr. Stevenson came tonight with a date?" Carrie broke the ice.

"Yeah, he's got game," Zach chuckled. "Lyds, long time no speak. What's been happening?"

"Not much." Those were the only words I could muster, out of anxiety and nervousness. I was sweating profusely, and I could smell myself.

Carrie and Reggie joined the boys' conversation while I shuffled my feet and looked down. I was trying to build up the courage to speak to Billy because he looked so good, and I was tongue-tied.

Carrie, Zach, Greg, and Reggie decided to join the others on the dance floor while I stood near the bleachers with Billy. As Carrie walked away, she mouthed, "Go for it!" She always wanted the best for me and encouraged me to take risks, as I tended to be shy and risk-averse.

I decided to throw caution to the wind and Just Do It. Like the Nike ads.

"Billy," I tapped his shoulder gently.

"Coleman, what's up?" His aquamarine eyes gazed at me. I could melt right there and then.

"Would you like to dance with me?" I asked.

"Umm, nah. I'm not really much into dancing," he responded nonchalantly.

"Oh. Okay."

I wanted to try again.

"Billy, I think I'm in love with you," I blurted.

"What? No way!" He looked flustered and surprised.

"Lyds, I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression, but I don't like you that way. You're just a friend to me," he replied.

Later that night, he asked Carrie to dance with him. She declined the offer.

The following Monday, I heard a group of girls and guys snickering near the lockers.

"Can you believe the dork asked Billy Rider to dance with her?"

"As if he would," another face scoffed.

They burst out in laughter.

"She even said she loved him! Oh, my God! Who says that kind of shit?"

More laughter erupted from the group, who stood by my locker. As I walked closer to them, they stared at me as if I had two heads or four eyes.

It was a humiliating experience. The whole school knew about it, and again, the only one who was really there for me was Carrie.

I once punched a boy who bullied Carrie when I was in grade five, and I was sent to the principal's office for it. Carrie never forgot that, and she had since been a loyal friend.

Billy moved away that summer. I never really spoke with him after the school dance.

At home, Mom criticized me for the way I looked. She once called me a meatball dumpling and moon face because I was not the ideal size she wanted a daughter to be. I was too big and round.

---

Then it all changed during the summer before I started grade nine. During the first week of vacation, I got my first period. I was a late bloomer when it came to puberty, but it finally caught up, and when it caught up, it bit back hard with a vengeance. Not in a bad way either.

I went from wearing trainer bras to B cup bras, and I dropped a whole lot of puppy fat-two dress sizes, at least. Mom also treated me to a trip to the hair salon, where the hairdresser gave me a fantastic, new haircut that nicely framed my face. My braces also came off, and I was rewarded with straight teeth.

Carrie and I spent time reading many fashion magazines that summer, and we shopped at second-hand stores together. At first, I thought she did it for me, but I noticed she had a blast, piecing outfits together at op shops. She loved her fashion, and it didn't matter which store it came from.

By the time I started my first week in grade nine, I looked like a different person. I had a brand new wardrobe, thanks to Carrie, and I was no longer 'Blobby lobby Lydia.'

Zach and Greg, who were closer to Carrie and Reggie, asked the three of us to join their social circle.

"Shit! You got hot over the summer, Lyds," Zach hollered.

"I'm still the same old Lyds," I replied.

"Nope, you're not the same. You're a queen now," Greg winked at me with folded arms.

"She always was a queen. You didn't see it coming," Carrie smiled proudly.

The group was in good spirits, except Reggie, who I noticed was unusually quiet. Our friendship started to change that year.

At the Halloween school dance in grade nine, Zach asked me to dance with him. I had never danced with a cool guy like Zach before. That certainly caught a lot of people's attention.

Boys started asking me out, and girls like Katie and Elsie started seeing me as the competition, rather than the laughing stock.

My world was changing, but inside, I was still Lydia Coleman, a girl riddled with insecurity and very little confidence in being truly loved.

When Devon asked me to be his girlfriend at the start of my junior year, I felt lucky. I should have known better that I deserved so much more.

I did not believe I deserved to be loved, let alone by a demigod like Jacob Somersby, who I felt was, by far, superior compared to lil' ole Lydia.

A/N: If anyone is going through what Lydia experienced, I want to say one thing: you are loved; you are special; you are beautiful. :)

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