She's perfect. Perfect hair, not brunette nor blonde, not short nor too long. Big green eyes that you just can't help but look into. Thick lips, as red as as a cherry, and according to half the boys in the year, just as tasty as one, too. Her skin is tanned, though not too dark. Her body: hourglass. Defined waist, big butt and boobs. Legs are long. The guys just love her. She leans over and you breathe in her scent: flowery, fancy, fantastic. She walks around flashing her set of perfectly straight teeth to every boy that looks her way, and they return the favour. Her eye catches something off in the far distance. Something she wants. Something she is determined to be. Why be herself? She can go one better. She quickly plaits her hair. She is perfect, but she isn't her.
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