The slightly spicy smell of new leather tickled my nose hairs. The satisfying squeak of unused soles on freshly waxed tile floors was my very own theme song. I glided into class, the shiny black combat boots hugging my feet as I went. It was the first day of tenth grade but I was so cool that I felt like a senior. My frenemy called me over to his desk with a wave of his hand. I had never really liked him but his opinion always seemed to matter so I eagerly awaited the praise of the retro boots I was rocking. He leaned close to my ear his smirk so sour that it reeked. “Abby, don’t wear those anymore.”
My heart was a rock in my stomach. My face turned red. I fixed him with my most careless expression. “What makes you think I care what you think? Is that shirt old, cause it looks a little snug,” I added as an afterthought-I had previously calculated this would hit him where it hurt. I turned on my heavy heel. I walked back to my seat. My feet felt like weights.
I put those boots in the attic to keep company with the stuffed animals and the Pokémon.
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