Avery Grey

I don’t like Avery Grey.

Avery Grey always raises her hand in class.

She always knows all the answers.

My friends call her a know-it-all.

That’s why I don’t like her.

Avery Grey likes tests.

Stupid, annoying, long, tricky tests.

She hasn’t gotten a bad mark yet.

She says it’s because she always tries her best.

That’s why I don’t like her.

Avery Grey helps me sometimes.

She tells me not to mix my i’s and e’s.

And she smiles really wide when I get a question right.

Her smile makes me feel sick.

That’s why I don’t like her.

Avery Grey likes long shirts.

Even in hot, hot summer.

You wanna know why?

It’s to hide the bruises under her collar and on her arms.

I don’t like seeing them on her perfect skin.

That’s why I don’t like her.

Avery Grey is a liar.

I got an A on my test today for the first time.

She told me she was proud of me.

Then she kissed me.

My stomach exploded into butterflies.

It made me feel like sunshine.

No one can know.

Not you.

Not me.

Not my teachers.

Not my classmates.

And most of all

Especially

Not Icky Avery Grey.

- Aria