But like why? Why did today have to be the first day of school? Yesterday was fine, but why today? I lay in bed staring at my spackled ceiling that 5-year-old me thought would look wonderful in a bright shade of barbie-doll pink. I look over at my alarm clock, it's bright blue screen reading 3:00. What am I doing awake at this hour? I ponder that to myself until 3:30, then give into my own brain decide to get up and pick out an outfit. Last year in middle school, I was not what you would call 'popular'. I didn't hang out with the 'in' crowd, and the only reason guys looked at me, besides the ones that were already my friends, was to look at my acne-infested face.
       Yes, I was also that kind of girl, the grease-face with red and white pimples scattered like a population map of India across my face. I always wore oversized hoodies and my jeans were either black or blue, and always boring. I was such a "loser", over the summer my mom took me to the most trendy store and forced me to buy almost half a closet full of fashionable clothes that made me look 'stylish' and 'fierce'. She made me promise to at least where each item once before wearing any of my old clothes, and actually put effort into my appearance this year.     
      Guess this is what happens when your mom was Prom Queen and a pageant princess as a teen. I peer into my closet that was now full of bright colors and all kinds of basic girl vibes. After we went shopping my mom took the 'liberty' of putting all the outfits together so that I couldn't 'screw up something that 'doesn't need to be screwed up'. Basically, mom speak for "Let me do this for you so you don't mess this up like usual." I've gotten used to it by now though.
      I pull out a white shirt with roses on it that looks like someone cut the bottom half off, and ultra short shorts that only a Victoria's Secret model would wear voluntarily,and to top it all off, rose-colored sunglasses, how fitting. I squirm into the shirt and squish myself into the shorts that feel like they would fit a 4-year-old. I trudge into the bathroom to look at the hair I'm dealing with today. Instead of my normal countertop which just contained my actually decent hairbrush, toothbrush, toothpaste, and a few hair ties, my vanity is now littered with all kinds of makeup products. I could tell this was my mother's doing because along with all the glitz and glam, came an iPad with an already-pulled-up link to a full makeup tutorial, including, what is this...contour? Is that what that is? HAIR TUTORIAL INCLUDED?! Are you serious mom? Fine. I'll humor her just for today. But first, food time.
      Over the summer my mom also made me start going to the gym and dieting... The dieting I didn't really follow, I hid chips in my room all the time, but I did lose enough weight to lose the mini tummy-overhang I had that made me look fat. I run down the carpeted stairs of our Florida beachfront house. It sounds more expensive than it was when we first got it. We bought it when it was old and worn down then over time my dad, being the hard worker he is, fixed it up good as new! But now he's not around that much... neither is my mom, she probably left for some fancy retreat down south.
   Dad has a traveling job and mom is a flight attendant on a large airline. She had to leave at 12 in the morning so she probably left while I was asleep. I padded down to the pantry and chose the healthy cereal mom picked out for us to eat on our 'double diet'. I looked down at the box and notice a small sticky-note on the side of the box. "I expect to see a picture of you after school or I'll know you broke your promise!" Welp, wasn't getting out of this one. I pull the sticky off and threw it away... then grab a donut from my secret stash behind the bread and crackers. No way my mom was going near those. I snatched a strawberry-frosted donut with extra rainbow sprinkles and run upstairs. I brushed my hair while eating the donut and put on some mood-matching music. Which today it includes Woman Like Me, Bang Bang, and my favorite choice of the three... Don't Play. (Little Mix- Jessie J., Nicki Minaj, Ariana Grande- Halsey in case y'all were curious, this is author BTW)

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Nothing like some blood pumping music to get you in the mood. I finished my donut then attempted to put up my hair as the video said... 7 hair ties and 1 mental breakdown later, I end up with a pretty sweet looking sleek ponytail. Next this makeup routine... 4 hours, 3 mental breakdowns, 2 extra donuts, and 1 complete start over later... I grab my plain white backpack, my phone, and my keys. I slip on my favorite black converse on the way out the door and hop in my convertible, door-detachable white Jeep. My most prized possession that I paid for with the money I had been saving for 3 years of birthdays, Christmases (no idea how to spell Christmas as a plural), and part-time jobs. I felt a buzz on my thigh, I took out my phone and I see the name tag: Malorie.

M: Where U at B? We got school in 30!!

B: IK just getting in the car now, be there in 5

Oh yeah, my name is Brooklyn, like the bridge. My mom's name idea because "my baby girl shall be as magnificent as the Brooklyn Bridge". Also, that's where she and dad met. But in her mind, the first part was the most important part. I rode to Malorie's house and honked the horn. She popped right out and jumped (literally, it's a convertible) into the back of my car. I turned up some Little Mix and Taylor Swift as we drove to school.
"Yo Brook, what happened to your face, you look different," Malorie inquired with a puzzled look on her face as she squinted at my highlighted and defined cheekbones, and cherry red lipstick, not to mention my cutting edge eyeliner, mascara, extensions and a bunch of other stuff that nearly killed me putting on.
"Mom." That's our code word for, 'I know I look weird just go with it, AKA my mom made me do it'. Malorie had always been the natural beauty of the group, she was always stunning with her dark chocolate skin tone and Angelina Jolie kind of cheekbones, but soon lost attraction when she said she wasn't interested in being popular, and started hanging out with us, and surprisingly never once said she regretted it.
"We're here!" Malorie shouted as we pulled up to the school's main entrance. But Malorie and I looked and each other and I kept driving. Since we became friends in 7th grade, and she always had to go with her mom to her older sister's sporting games, she had found a back entrance to the school that lead to an empty room that we assumed used to be a sound studio. She lead me around back and opened the door to the hollow room that was covered in dust, but still had a DJ booth and an auxiliary cord, and a couple YouTube tutorials and sanitary wipes later, we got it all fixed up. We used to ask Malorie's mom if we could go explore the school, and she never actually said no. So we did explore the school, just not an area she was aware of... so before any of Malorie's sister's games would end, we would walk back to the gym and act like we had been doing nothing but picking out nose under a staircase. But what we were really doing was so much more amazing! We would run to our secret spot and lock the door behind us, then, because it was what we found out from Google, was actually a soundproof recording studio, we would blast the music and teach ourselves to dance using videos on YouTube. That was the life. It was 7:30 then, school starts in 10 minutes. Until then, we covered the car in an old tarp and hid it behind a corner. We listened to some Camila Cabello, only daydreaming about what would happen once that school bell rang.

Hope y'all liked it, give me any writing advice that you might've seen and liked on any other stories! Thanks for reading!