five
ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : drivers license - Olivia Rodrigo
0:10 ───ㅇ───── 4:02
↺ ᴿᴱᴾᴱᴬᵀ ‖ ᴾᴬᵁˢᴱ ≫ ᴺᴱˣᵀ ˢᴼᴺᴳ
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"Have a great lunch everyone!" the teacher called as we left the class.
It was Tuesday, and we were in school.
Timmy had left around 2 am yesterday, after watching movies with me and Bella, and Mom came home at 6 am.
Timmy and I were walking down the crowded hallway. He was on his phone, and I was just trying to stay awake.
Noises of all the other kids' chatter enveloped us and the hallway was packed and hot, making me feel overwhelmed.
It's way too early for this.
And if that wasn't enough, someone harshly shoved me out of their way, me almost falling.
Both Timmy and my head turned around and there stood Tara, looking at me with a look of disgust on her face.
Tara Strevel, a perfect body, perfectly straight and silky mousy brown hair with light brown streaks, perfect skin, perfect nose, pretty blue eyes, and the perfect smile.
She was perfect, and everyone loved her.
Everyone but me.
She and her friends made me feel insecure sometimes, looking so perfect it made me think if I looked perfect too, which I didn't. I never did.
Her makeup was always careful and precise, lipstick always on point, and her outfits were to die for. She was always looking perfect, no matter what she wore or she did, she always managed to look perfect.
She was the dream girl, both inside and out.
She had a bubbly and flirtatious personality, super fun and outgoing, and overall, perfect.
Looking at her always made me feel insecure, even if I felt confident before going to school.
Why couldn't I look like that?
Why couldn't I be like that?
Maybe because you're Xana Trishelle and she's Tara Strevel. Big difference.
I look at her exasperatedly.
"Hey, Timothée!" she said energetically.
"Hey," he replied blandly.
I snorted, and Tara glared at me.
"Wanna eat lunch together?" she asked, flipping her silky hair over her shoulder.
"Actually, I'm eating with Xana. Maybe next time?"
She nodded.
"Okay then, I'll see you later, Tara, bye!" Timmy said and quickly walked away from her, making sure I was with him.
Once we were a good distance away from her, he looked back, to check if she was there, and when she wasn't, he sighed in relief.
"Come on. Let's go eat lunch," he said.
"Yeah," I responded dryly.
Once we had reached our table, Emily was there, waiting for Tim it seemed.
Emily Green, golden blonde curly hair, green eyes, a sharp pointy nose, and a lovely smile.
Emily was shy and pretty sweet, we had both known her for two years, we just never hung out with her.
Timmy stared at her for a long time, and she smiled at him, and he smiled back.
My heart hurts.
I felt like I was third-wheeling, like I was intruding on a moment I shouldn't be intruding on.
After all, it was their special moment, not mine.
I'm fine, I'm fine, everything's fine.
I know it's not.
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It was 4 pm.
School had ended, I went home, played with Bella, then Timmy showed up.
Right now, I had put on eyeliner on one of Tim's eyes to see how he would look, and he was checking himself out in the mirror.
"Come here, I'm gonna do the other eye," I said, and he hopped back on the carpet where I was sitting.
I held his face, and his eyes were focused on me as I applied the liner.
He held direct eye contact with me the whole entire time, and the stupid butterflies in my stomach were going crazy.
"Done," I said, and he turned around to see himself in the mirror.
I jumped in my bed and watched Timmy look at himself.
"I look good," he said.
"You look hot." I agreed, and he smiled.
Suddenly, his phone rang.
He quickly picked it up, and I opened my own phone, trying not to listen.
"Hey, Emily!" I heard him say.
My heart dropped.
"Hey, Emily!"
I quickly stood up and went to my bathroom, quickly locking the door behind me.
I looked at the mirror.
I didn't look anything like the girls at school or on social media.
Why?
My thick waist-long dark brown hair wasn't silky or smooth, it was wavy and tangled.
My dark brown eyes weren't pretty and catchy, they were boring and poop-coloured.
My nose wasn't perfect, it was sloped downwards.
My face had some acne, it wasn't 100% clear.
My body was underweight, it wasn't the perfect, hourglass body.
My style was horrible, it was never on point.
Why?
Tears came into my eyes.
I felt horrible for having feelings for Timothée when I looked like this and I knew he didn't like me back.
He would never like me.
No matter how hard I tried.
The tears started streaming down my face and I quickly took a deep breath and washed my face as quickly as I could.
Timmy knocked on my door.
"Xana? Are you okay in there?" he asked.
"Yeah, just a minute," I replied, drying my face and looking at the mirror again.
My face was now red and blotchy, and I looked even worse than before.
Taking another deep breath, I opened the door.
"Hey-Are you okay?" Tim asked.
No, I am not.
"I'm fine" I replied.
Timmy wrapped his arms around me in a big hug and I felt safe, secure.
"I hope you don't think that because Emily is my friend I'll be spending time with her more than you, 'cause that's never gonna happen," he said, resting his chin on the top of my head.
"Yeah, thanks."
"Youll forever stay my best friend, Xana. And nothing is ever gonna change that."
And nothing is ever gonna change that.
"Thanks," I managed to choke out, almost on the verge of tears again. "I'll remember that,"
"How does it feel to be my favourite person in the whole wide world?" he asked, clearly trying to cheer me up.
"Feels good, for now."
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this chapter hit a little too close to home :(
ANYWAYS DID YALL SEE TIMMY WAS SPOTTED IN NYC W PAULINE AND HIS DOG AND A FAN TOOK A PHOTO W HIM
I'M SO HAPPY HES ALIVE AND IM SO SAD THAT WONKA IS DONE FILMING
ANYWAYS BYE BITCHES
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