Georgie is thirteen–nearly fourteen–years old when she looks in the mirror and realizes she’s not going to be pretty when she grows up. It’s not that she’s going to be hideous or anything, just mildly unattractive. It’s a disappointing realization for someone that had been a beautiful child.<\/p>\n
Puberty was not being kind to her, and it’s not the spattering of acne across her forehead and chin. No, it’s her nose and the square shape of her face and her stubbly legs. It’s the way the slant of her brows combined with her heavy-lidded eyes to give her a sullen, unfriendly expression when she wasn’t smiling.<\/p>\n
It was unfortunate, but the woman she was becoming was far from lovely. Georgie thought she could hear doors of opportunity slamming shut before her and there wasn’t much she could do about it.<\/p>\n
She stared at her reflected face and was glad she was discovering this truth early. There was still time for her to turn her grades around and work hard so she could earn a scholarship to college in the future.<\/p>\n
Finding out she was ugly was a blessing in disguise. Even if it did make her want to cry.<\/p>\n
She’d always dreamed of being pretty when she grew up, like the women on TV.<\/p>\n
\/EXCERPT<\/p>\n
* * *<\/p>\n
What is this even? I don’t know.<\/p>\n
Sometimes I write scraps of things that I imagine I should throw away.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"