17 year old Lexia is moving out of her parents house with her boyfriend.
|Monday January 1st
My parents insist that I should write every day for the next 365 days. I hate writing, what's the point, it does no good to you unless you're a published author, which I'm obviously not. They think it's going to help with my attitude problem, but I know it won't. What would help are parents who understand me and my life. Not the life the TV should have or the life from the stupid books they read. I'm not a character from a book. I'm a 17 year old girl, my name is not some stupid made up name, like "Sweetie" or "Honey". It's Amber, Amber Lily actually. It's a stupid name, but I didn't choose it. Amber Lily is a name for a girl with red hair and green eyes. Not for a girl whose eyes are brown with speckles of grey, or a girl whose hair is as long as her ass and black like a dead raven. Amber Lily is the name of a girl who is popular and has dated every popular guy in the school. I can't complain, my boyfriend is great, but he would be even better if he wasn't always sleeping or skipping class. The guys in my school always whistle when I walk by. They whistle because I have a pretty great body, most girls would like that, but not me. I would like it if they whistled because I have a good body and because they like me as a person, but they don't care to get to know me. I'm that girl who everyone knows, but at the same time, they don't really know me. The only people who really know me is my boyfriend Charly and my best friend Dev. It sucks that my closest friend is a guy, but I love him anyways. I've always wanted to be besties with a girl, but they are all bitches. I met Dev in Kindergarten. He used to be in love with me, so I used to paint on his face, but in the end we became besties. Dev is really popular, and has dated most of the girls on the cheerleading team, but he doesn't let his popularity get in his head. He doesn't care that people know that I'm his best friend, or that he's still a virgin even with all the girls he has made out with. My hand hurts so I'm going to stop, I'm also going to think about why I'm speaking to you as though you are a person, that's sort of worrying me.