Natalie P.O.V
When I left our apartment this morning, the hairs on the back of my neck were standing on end. It felt like eyes were everywhere, staring at me from the darker corners and shadows. But I could see no one out of the ordinary, just the usual people walking to work and the kids on their way to school. Paige was by my side, seeming her normal, reluctant self.
“I hate school.”
“We all hate school.” Her hair was in a high ponytail, with two blonde strands that hung either side of her face. Her black, slogan t-shirt was tucked into her high-waisted denim jeans; a brown belt strapped tightly around her tiny waist.
“I thought you were popular when you went?”
“Popularity doesn’t make school barrable. And anyway, what is popular? Most of your friends are fake when everyone wants
