Anya walks into the nearest Starbucks and finds an empty table nestled between the serving counter and the terracotta walls. She plops herself on one of the chairs, then pulls the hood of her jacket tight over her head.
Anya breathes in and out deeply as she flips through her journal.
January 15, 2003, she writes in the top left corner of a blank page.
This day was off to a great start. My audition was fantastic. Mr. Hawthorne was incredibly impressed. But then Carly and her damn friends had to ruin EVERYTHING! Every time something good happens to me, they have to destroy the moment…my moment. They don’t want me to be happy. Why, I really don’t know. I’ve never done anything to make them hate me, so they have no right to be nasty. I just wish they would all disappear; vanish into thin air. It sure as hell would make my life a LOT easier.
And what’s up with Mrs. Shenkle? I was her favorite student and she was one of my favorite teachers. But she didn’t even speak in my defense. Couldn’t even tell Matt to grow up. Surely, she heard him call me a loser.
I thought Patrick would meet me after my audition, he said he would. But he was nowhere in sight, and I had to deal with the jerks on my own.
Some days, like today, I feel so alone. Nobody seems to care for me. I don’t understand why some people have no problem making lots of friends. But I just can’t fit in no matter how hard I try. God, it sucks to have such a shitty life.
Anya glances up and studies her surroundings. Soft jazz music is playing in the background, and the sounds of lively chatter fill the air. Employees and customers alike seem to lead socially active lives, judging by the upbeat tone in their voices. No freaking fair.
Anya refocuses her attention on her journal.
I wish I could wave a magic wand and boom! I’d be rich; I’d have a family who loves me, and I’d be popular. If only it could be that easy.