Salima
‘I wanna be a flower, Not a dirty weed.’
I couldn’t bear it anymore. Their pathetic mud-slinging session was really beginning to annoy me. And what’s more, I don’t know why they always have to drag me into it!
Stupid boys.
I wandered into the bathroom to clean myself up. I was absolutely covered in muck. Those three were so immature! I looked in the mirror, and saw that I was now completely spotless.
Except, for a spot.
Oh my God.
I have a spot. On my chin. This is a code red emergency! I quickly got out my stash of make-up that I’ve hidden in this dinky little bathroom, and begin to pile on the slap. Once the spot is safely covered up, I decide I might as well go the full hog, and put mascara, eyeliner and lip gloss on, too.
Deciding that I looked quite neat and presentable, I wandered out into the yard again, where the boys were still slinging mud at each other.
“Christ, Salima, what’s the occasion?” Jim asked, looking up at my made-up face.
“Yeah, what’s with all the make-up? You do realise it makes you look fake?” Kane said, also looking at my face.
My head drooped, and I slumped back inside. I only wanted Kane to say I looked super pretty…
