Every year, at my school, is a free dress day.
You can wear whatever you like.
I am not very keen on free dress day.
Every body else’s clothes are so “Cool”.
My clothes are different; while everyone else is wearing jeans, shorts, and hoodies, I wear skirts, stockings, and headbands.
Every year when its free dress day, at home, I feel confident with what I’m wearing; but when I get to school, and see all what all the other kids are wearing, I feel like curling up into a little ball and hiding away.
Now I am walking into my classroom, staring at all the children dressed like 21 year olds.
When class started, my teacher, Miss. Ripley, brought in a new girl.
Miss.Ripley told us that her name was Jasmine, and she came from a different town.
Jasmine looked different, to all the other girls.
She wore pink stockings, and a yellow polka dot skirt.
She has big green eyes, her hair is bundled up into two ponytails on either side of her head, and placed in her hair is a beautiful dark blue headband, with swirly decorations on it.
I can tell I already like Jasmine, she makes me smile with pleasure.
“Jasmine will sit next to Molly.” Announces Miss. Ripley.
When she says that Jasmine will be sitting next to me, I feel a tingle of excitement in my stomach.
As Jasmine walks towards her seat, the butterflies in my stomach start to sway more vigorously.
“Hello.” Whispers Jasmine to me, her bright eyes beaming.
Jasmine does not seem to mind that she doesn’t dress like all the other kids in the school.
“Hi.” I whisper back shyly.
“I like your skirt, it’s very nice.” She says, pointing to my floral patterned skirt.
I think she is being sarcastic, but when I look at her face, I relies she is not!
She is being honestly nice!
I decide I should compliment her back.
Normally I would struggle to compliment girls in my class, because I never like what they wear, but when I look at Jasmine, I want to say a bajillion things about her!
I like Jasmine, from the way she dresses, to the way her eyes glimmer, I think she is utterly beautiful.
“I like your headband.” I say, hoping she doesn’t think I’m weird.
“Thanks!” She says with a wide, happy grin.
We turn our attention to Miss. Ripley, who is naming French verbs, and I smile to myself.
I think I found a friend.
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