"So, have you heard of the Miss Teen contest?"
Zoey nodded. "Yeah. Those things are so juvinial. My mom used to enter me in them when I was
little."
"Really? You don't seem like the type," he said, taking in her backwards baseball cap, faded
jeans that had slight rips in the knees, and striped blue and white body fitting shirt.
Zoey shrugged. "Yeah, well, my mom thought I was good enough to win - every time."
"Ever win?"
Zoey shrugged. "No... doesn't really matter, though, I'd never be caught dead in one of those
things."
Taylor shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah, well... I should probably mention it to Kelly, she has a
good chance of winning..."
Zoey felt a pang of jealousy towards Taylor's girlfriend. "Yeah, well, she is georgous... unlike
me..."
"Aw, Zoey, don't put yourself down. Your very pretty."
Zoey just stared at him. Pretty... she though. Not beautiful, glamorus, stunning... Pretty... For
some reason, Zoey took this as an offence. She grabbed her bookbag off the back of her chair,
and began walking out of the kitchen.
"Zoey, where are you going? I thought you were going to stay for a while!" Taylor called after
her.
"Yeah, well I have to go. I forgot I had to babysit," she lied. She flung open the door, and
slammed it shut.
Walking down the street in the crisp summer air, she hugged her arms to her stomach, in attempt
to warm them up. The golden sun, hidden behind clouds, was just barely shining, as the clouds
got gray for the second time that week.
Pretty... Zoey thought for the second time. I'm not even that... I'm just plain, old Zoey Fielding...
Chapter Eight
