It was a chilly October afternoon. Halloween was right around the corner. That meant "spooky szn!!" Instagram stories, fright fests, and fall pageants for Kayleighh Mckenna Grace, or a name spelt just as stupidly or similar to hers in my extremely predominantly white town.

I hated Halloween because everyone was trying to be someone they weren't. People used it as an excuse to do wreckless shit without any consequences- without having an identity to come back to. To not have to get caught t-peeing some old couple's house, or to not have to worry about getting so drunk they sleep with their best friend's boyfriend or some other trivial shit like that. I hated it.

All of it.

The former pale blue sky darkened quickly to a lonesome shade of deep indigo. Cars passed by, each vehicle filled with people with their own little stories.

Fall leaves littered the ground and school busses that previously left the school hours ago drove back to the school to pick up students that had EBB or extracurriculars and I shivered as the large vehicles drove by.

The wind was harsh and I instinctively hugged myself to shield myself from the cold. I glanced down at my wrist, still waiting at the bus stop, and bit my lip. It was freezing cold and I just came back from volleyball practice and unfortunately, didn't pack any extra sweats. I was under the impression that my one and only best friend, Colton, would be picking me up after practice today.

He couldn't make it. Said he had "shit to do". Which, yeah, he probably did, but that "shit" was most likely lighting up with the other half of his friend group. The more "Saturdays are for the Boys, I play Lax" group of friends he had.

Me and Colton were only friends because of afterschool SSL sessions. I needed something easy to do to easily get SSL, and so did he. Great minds think alike, I guess.

And so we both signed up to help backstage with the school's spring play. Made fun of the theatre kids. All that jazz. Behind the curtains, we made out a couple of times, but he made me promise not to tell anyone since he was cool and I was not. Of course he didn't actually say that, but if I had a good memory of that horrid day, I would probably recall the conversation going a little like:

"That was good, yeah?" Colton asked.

Silence from me. Then silence from him for a couple of seconds...

"Wanna do it again?" he asked.

"Do you wanna do it again?" I asked, reverse-uno ing that bitch. I felt nervous, but I most definitely was not going to show it.

"I don't know....I mean, that was kinda weird, right?" He laughed awkwardly.

"Soooo...Never again?" I drawed out.

"Yeah. Never." Colton.

Then, after an awkward pause, "This should stay between us, right? It'd be embarrassing if any of my friends knew, and I know your friends would think the same."

It was my turn to say something, but I was silent. He didn't know I didn't have any other friends than him, so I just nodded. He was the first and only friend I had made at Melbourne High, and now I was terrified I was going to lose him because he decided to fucking kiss me.

That was sophomore year. Regrets were made, but I guess he enjoyed my company enough to not wanna regret being my friend. I'm a junior now. Less stupid. Less paranoid about trivial things like that. If Colton kissed me again, I simply would not care or would know it was nothing more than a cry for attention on his end. I wasn't really his type.

He was into brunettes. Yeah, I had brown hair too, but I mean white brunettes. Girls named Hailey Grace or some shit like that with VSCOS in their Instagram bios and dirty white vans and puka shell necklaces on throughout the year. Someone he could ride with in his Jeep Wrangler with the windows down as her long straight brunette hair floated in the wind.

And you know, to be honest, I wasn't too far from your average Hailey Grace or Mckenna Bailey. You had to adapt any way that you had to adapt. For me and my family, after moving to this town, that meant thrifting me Brandy Melville clothes and going to Payless to buy the most similar knock off to those white vans or Nike Air Force 1's.

Spoiler alert: I barely wore either.

I wasn't the richest, obviously. I was waiting for a bus that didn't seem to be coming anytime soon.

I spotted a sleek black Mercedes speeding down the street. It whipped straight past me. I shivered, muttering curses at the driver under my breath for making it 10x colder than it already was. The street was mostly empty and it was getting darker as each minute passed.

I really wanted to scream at Colton right now.

Pulling out my phone, I scrolled through my contacts, cold fingers scratching against the broken glass that my cracked phone screen was. Peering through the screen, I clicked the green Facetime button near Colton's name and waited as the annoying tune wrung out into the cold evening silence.

Cold wind harshly bit at my ears and I could already tell they would be red if I looked in a mirror right now. I bit my lip. Not even my burghley winter coat was a player against the biting cold. They were severely chapped due to the intense cold and dehydration.

Looking over my shoulder, I saw the Mercedes from a few minutes back speeding back . I clutched my keychain with my almost-finished bottle of pepper spray, getting prepared for any sketchiness. Yes, this was a mostly normal town, but you never know.

The Mercedes sped right past me.

Well, you know, but not without some old dude in the front seat taking a long- way too long- look at my barren legs. He looked to be in his late 40s and had a red baseball cap on. I couldn't see the front of it, but I'd have to guess it probably said something like MAGA 2020, as glued to the back of his car was a Confederate flag bumper sticker. Cute. Trendy!

Gross.

I really should have packed some fucking sweats.