Almost all love stories are the same; they have a Prince Charming and a Princess with perfect eyes, lips, legs, figure, perfect face and body. Sometimes I wonder whether Cinderella or Sleeping Beauty ever had something they wanted to change about themselves. Maybe no stretch marks, no bulgy eyes. Didn’t they feel like enlarging their hips or something? Did they all have a perfect figure?

My name’s Angela Harry and my friends call me Angie. Well, today is gonna be special. I hope it’s going to be special because today I’ll tell him. I’ll tell him how I feel.

“Angela, how long will you keep standing in front of the mirror? You’ll be late for school,” shouts my mom.

Sometimes I got jealous of my mom’s nice figure. Though not perfect, she had what you’d call a figure eight – an ‘hour-glass figure’. I used to think kids always turn out to be like their parents, but I am flat on almost every side and a little bit busty. Don’t even talk about my face, it’s not all that pretty, just okay.

“What did you do to your skirt? Are you putting on mascara? Why did you pour your braids? Pack it up in a bun now,” my mom says glaring at me.

“Why the hell did dad have to go on business trips and not my mom?” I murmur.

“That’s because I have to look after my family,” goodness, she heard me.

I hurry off to school without saying another word.

I hop to school, daydreaming about holding Tobi’s hand, going to the canteen together. I’m sure going to prove those girls wrong who call me an amoeba because they think I’m shapeless. Then all of a sudden my few moments of pure bliss are interrupted when someone bumps into me and knocks my books down. I won’t be surprised if it’s David, he’s really cute but weird. He talks to others but goes mute when I talk to him. He’s just too arrogant, he doesn’t even help me pick up my books.

“Silly thing,” I mutter.

“Is someone ready for her big day?” Cynthia asks, helping me pick up my books.

“I think so,”

I look up to find Tolani munching on a doughnut. Sorry I failed to introduce my friends; Cynthia extremely slim, rumours have it that she is a sickle cell but that ain’t true; Tolani is super chubby and cute but guys in the class call her a football because she’s round. Together we are N.P.G.A (non-pretty girls association) .

“Babe you look smashing, I could barely recognise you,” Cynthia says, pausing to take another glance at me.

“Don’t hype me up, there’s really nothing special about this dumb school uniform or me,” I reply.

“Sweeet, you look great,” Tolani muffles over her doughnuts.

We chat about other girlie stuff as we stroll to our class. Just as I take my seat. Tobi and his clique comes in. Mehn, he’s good looking, his light skin, his extremely handsome face, his nicely crew-cut hair, and his shirt hanging loosely.

This guy is the bomb and I like him just the way he is. I don’t care if he disobeys school rules, and why that crazy Diana’s all over him.

“Show off,” I hiss.

I wait patiently until it is a free period, thinking about my horoscope that said I am gonna find true love this day. I stand up, with my well-perfumed love letter in my hand, I can see my friends cheering me on from the back. I quickly go to the girl’s restroom.

Lip gloss check, mascara, check, skirt above the knee, check and a wonderful smile, check.

“Hi mmmm, Tobi I wanted to give you this,” I say shyly, handing him the letter. To my greatest surprise, he takes the letter and hands it over to the ever talkative Kola to read out loud. Kola rushes off to the front of the class and starts reading.

“From Angela to Tobi: from the first day I met you I felt something really strong for you, you give me the case of butterflies. Each time I see you all I do is stare. I wish I could tell you how much I care. This is me pouring my feelings for you on this piece of paper. I like you a lot, Tobi.”

I hear the outrageous laughter from the class and Tolani and Cynthia scold some of my classmates for laughing. After a while, Tobi lifts his hand and they stop laughing, then he walks up to me and says things I’ll never forget.

“You’re not my type, you’ll never be. And so just everyone knows I’m going out with Diana, okay?” he smirks as he pats me on my shoulder.

I’m not going to cry or run out of the class. I can do this, pull yourself together. I feel my legs shake. I don’t know how but I find myself on my seat with my friends consoling me. I didn’t wat to cry but with their consoling me, I can’t help but cry.

“Buh – the horo,” I say breaking into tears.

“Angela,” I look up to see David. What does that jerk think he’s doing saying my name in front of the class? He continues when he notices he’s got my attention.

“You’re an awesome girl, maybe you didn’t write me a love letter, you might not be perfect, but I’ve liked you from Adam, this is crazy buh, will you be my girl?”

Is this my imagination? I’m laughing out loud and crying at the same time now, the class isn’t laughing but cheering?

“This is crazy buh yes, yes let’s date!” the class starts cheering louder, especially Tolani and Cynthia.

Sometimes we place so much emphasis on looks. I don’t need a makeover. I don’t need to be perfect, I just have to be myself, an imperfect perfection. I’m myself with someone who loves me, we hold hands, hug and maybe some days kiss and I sure did prove those girls and Tobi wrong. Most love stories are dumb because they don’t appreciate real beauty.

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