I didn’t care about my green hair. Well, okay, I didn’t care about it much.
It’s the other stuff I couldn’t stand.
You’re confused—I can tell. Look, there might be one or two things I’ve left out of this book so far. I guess I’ve never mentioned that one of my legs is shorter than the other. I wear a special shoe, which helps, but I still limp a little.
Get it?
And “clip-clop”? That’s the way the Princesses made fun of the sound my feet make when I walk. I’m a little uneven, I guess.
I actually got the joke the first time they said it. But I guess I didn’t feel like explaining it. You understand, don’t you? It’s not like I’m a liar.
(What? Rafe never mentioned my shoe either? Well, that’s… interesting.)
Nobody at my old school even noticed my limp. Well, if they noticed, at least they never really cared. I mean, sometimes, of course, it came up. Like, I always got picked last when we had relay races.
But that didn’t happen all that often. All in all, I really never thought about it much. Everyone was just used to me, and they accepted me.
But middle school was totally different. The more I tried to blend in, the more I stood out. It’s like I was some kind of free entertainment that people couldn’t help but stare at. Free freak show! See the Limpy Chick in her natural habitat! Mock her hair! Judge her clothes! Remember her crazy brother?
So is it a surprise that I was locked in a bathroom stall, crying? (I’m telling you, middle school is all glamour.) I blew my nose on a strip of toilet paper and took a shaky breath.
I wondered if I could just stay in this stall forever. With wireless Internet access, I might never have to face the world again.
