Lenna pictures herself from a distance, the way you’d watch a character in a film. There she is, walking up the front steps of a school she’s never set foot in before. A little too early, bag hanging off one shoulder, hair tucked behind her ears in a way that says don’t look at me but please notice anyway. It’s her eleventh year of school. By now, the rituals are muscle memory, but she wishes she could get new ones. The polished linoleum floors with a faint reflection of sneakers are all too recognizable. She wishes she could just start working and move out, because she has outgrown this. Still, there are three years left.
Her mother’s voice threads through her mind, saying "Keep your eyes peeled and your head screwed on."
Her mother says it about everything from crossing busy streets to dealing with strangers to navigating supermarket sales. It means look sharp and don’t be a fool. It also means she can’t afford to get swept away by things like popularity or gossip.
From my imagined third-person view, Lenna looks… fine. Not lonely, not desperate, just self-contained. She doesn’t plan on making friends, not because she’s above it, but because she isn’t convinced she needs them to get by. Friends are like dessert: nice if they appear, but she can live without them. She takes a breath, rolls her shoulders back, and walks through the hallways. She doesn’t know what the year will bring, but she likes the way she looks doing it. After three years with a total of 570 school days, she will officially be graduated. It's the final countdown (that's really funny of me actually).
Love, Lenna ❤
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