Marci Loves My Boots
I HATED MARCI ROGERS, but not as much as I hated her friends, Georgia and Vicky. When it was only Marci, she was at least civil. When Georgia and Vicky were around, I was a slime ball, and they made sure I knew that.
I made the mistake, years ago, of telling Georgia how I felt about Marci. She told Marci in front of me. I think I saw a hint of a smile, but her expression turned to disgust.
“Him? He likes me?” She flipped her golden hair. “Gross.” The three girls walked off, but Marci looked over her shoulder with a soft expression.
It wasn’t until Marci started dating Brett Jones that my hatred began. She flaunted her relationship through the halls at school and out on the grounds, and at the mall, and at the movies, and everywhere they went. She showed up wearing
