Now that I’m a senior, you’d think my family would acknowledge something good about me, but I’ve slowly been turning invisible. Not like in comic books or old black and white movies on Sunday afternoon, but the kind where people seem to look through me. When I walk into the living room, Mom doesn’t acknowledge my presence but keeps her eyes fixed on that one spot in the wall. The hole we don’t talk about.
The one that’s all my fault.
Oh, I know. I f****d up. Shouldn’t have messed up Kourtney’s purse. But imagine what would have happened if she told everyone I was in her gang? Then I’d be beyond outcast, part of a freakizoid group.
Hell, I was barely clinging to Lisa’s friendship. She’d already been asked to three parties this year. Once right in front of me. I stared into the chick’s ba
