Luliana stroked her face, checking her cream had caressed her skin into a healthy glow. Her hair was thick blonde curls, still bouncing over her shoulders when in a high ponytail. Sapphire blue eyes beamed back from the reflection, which sparkled when she smiled. Luliana patted her figure. She had curves, not in the places she would have liked, but Luliana carried her body with confidence. Exercise was never her forte, and food was not something she would deny herself. Luliana did not always feel this good in her skin. There were days when she wanted to be slim. Daciana’s disguise gave Luliana insight. It was an image that haunted her dreams. For days, Luliana wept, bewildered by why Daciana needed to steal her identity. Disappointed, she could look so good on what adventure this look took her on.
None of that mattered today. Luliana had a mission, and his name was Boston Renner. Scruffy black hair, baggy clothes, a set of blue eyes and an outward curved nose gave him a unique appearance. Fluffy black stubble edged his chin. Boston, in her eyes, was cute, an oversized teddy bear. Luliana knew she was the last of her friends to have a boyfriend, but Boston would be worth the wait. He would ask her to prom, and they would last forever. It would contrast with her friends, who would have a new boyfriend before the end of High School.
Luliana struggled to focus on her studies. She glanced across the room, hoping to catch Boston looking in her direction. Her fingers twiddled her hair, brushing it behind her ear and wondering if he would ask her today. Other boyfriends had paint on their fingers from the posters they created. Boston’s hands were clean. Luliana noted some dirt under his nails, but this was from his weekend job. Somehow, he never seemed to get it all. The teacher cleared their throat, but Luliana was ignoring the question. From the front of the class, Luliana’s names boomed. She sat bolt upright; panic closed her throat. Her face burned bright red, clashing with her pink dress. In a Boston daydream, Luliana missed the class, and the teacher decided to issue detention.
Detention was for the naughty children. The ones who graffitied lockers, skipped class and spoke rude languages. Luliana sat rigid in her chair, her lower lip quivering. She longed to protest this humiliation. Boston gave a sympathetic half-smile as he left, heading off to catch the bus. She had missed another chance. Boston would not want to take a troublemaker to prom. She had prided herself on possessing an unblemished record. Luliana watched as her dreams of the perfect man and ideal life went up in flames. The grounding realization, she had only herself to blame.
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By the Grace of Sim Gods 