Barbiee's POV
"Get out of my life, please. I was fine before all this. Please hang out with people who are your standard, okay?" Those were Griz's words.
As hurtful as they sounded, I wasn't angry with Griz-I was angry with my class.
"Where did she go?" Chloe asked, panting. She must have chased after Griz like I did.
"She ran home," I replied and then walked out.
The moment I stepped into class, my eyes landed on Nikki and her clique. I was about to say something when Miss Wendel abruptly entered, ready to start History.
I sank into my seat and opened my textbook, but my mind was elsewhere-on Griz and everything she had been through emotionally.
"Barbiee! Barbiee Roberts!" Miss Wendel's sharp voice snapped me back to reality.
"What are you thinking about? And where is Griz?" she asked, glancing at the empty seat beside me.
"She's probably somewhere crying," a blonde girl muttered. I didn't know their names yet-I was new to the school.
Annoyed by the girl's careless remark, I clenched my fist and stood up.
"Uh, unbelievable," Nikki said with a sneer, shaking her head.
I felt like I was about to explode. "What did you say?" I challenged.
"I said you're unbelievable. Honestly, I thought you were someone of high status, and I was willing to give you respect-but you messed up big time," Nikki replied, her girls nodding in agreement.
That was it. My patience had run out.
"You're one of a kind, Nikki. You think you're perfect, but the truth is, you're just like Griz," I fired back.
"What are-" Nikki began, but I cut her off. My moment had come.
"Let me finish. Do you know why you layer on all that makeup, wear uncomfortable clothes and shoes, or maybe even struggle with an eating disorder just to 'fit in'? It's because of low self-esteem. So what makes you different from Griz? Griz is herself. She doesn't pile on makeup; she wears what suits her. She's incredibly talented at art, yet she never stands up for herself and endures all your bullying."
"Barbiee," Miss Wendel called softly, but I wasn't in the mood to listen.
"Nikki, you pick on Griz because you admire her. She doesn't have to go through all your struggles to be beautiful. And the rest of you, following Nikki's lead, aren't exempt. You all suffer from low self-esteem-that's why none of you can admit the truth, even when it's obvious. And yes, that includes you, Steven. Miss Wendel, I'm sorry for interrupting your class, but I have somewhere to be." With that, I stomped out of the room.
Ring! Ring! Ring! My phone buzzed. I glanced at the caller ID-it was Griz's dad.
"Barbiee, how are you?" he asked.
"I'm good, sir. Is Griz okay?" I replied.
"That's why I'm calling. I saw her running down the road with tears in her eyes. She found out I'm dating someone and got so upset she skipped dinner. I never thought it would lead her to skip school too." I almost laughed; what he said didn't explain Griz's earlier behavior at all.
"I'm on my way to your house," I told him before he hung up.
When I arrived, I hesitated, wondering what to say.
"Griz! Griz! Griz!" I called out anxiously. A wave of fear washed over me-what if she felt so broken that she had hurt herself?
"Griz! Griz..." Then it hit me-she was probably in the basement painting.
I rushed downstairs but only found splashes of paint scattered across the floor.
"Griz!" I called again, my voice trembling.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, paintbrush in hand.
"I came to see you," I said softly.
"Well, I don't want to see you," she replied flatly, returning to her painting.
I glanced at her work-it was a portrait of her mother. Tears pricked my eyes.
"Did anyone say anything about your mom?" I asked gently.
"They implied I flirt because I don't have a mom. I feel torn, Barbiee." She dropped her paintbrush and looked at me with raw vulnerability.
"Hey, I'm not going to tell you it's okay. Instead, I'm going to say this: everything that's happened is your fault." I said it and swallowed hard, knowing my own feelings were about to explode.