I’m 11 years old and I hate myself. My parents and I have been living in Canada for two years and I just started seventh grade. My new best friends are Heather and Jenna. Heather’s father left them and her mother lets her do what she wants. She’s a year older than me and she’s angry all the time. Her hair is beautiful: bleached blond, pin straight, with one purple streak near the left side of her face. She wears big hoop earrings and low rise jeans to school. Jenna’s older, too. Her house is never clean. Her father smokes Marlboros in the living room and her mother isn’t around much. When I come home from her house, I smell like an old ashtray. Her hair is blond and the layers underneath it are dyed jet black. She has a small diamond stud on her nose. She has a boyfriend named Dustin. I will later discover he’s an asshole.

When we hang out together, we do the usual thing: smoke old cigarette butts we find on the street or that we bummed from a homeless guy; steal perfume samples from department stores and DVDs from the HMV at the mall; walk through the snowy forest behind Heather’s house and drink the vodka we stole from her mother’s liquor cabinet. My parents, of course, take turns begging and ordering me to stop hanging out with Jenna and Heather. It only makes me want to be around them more.

Truth is, I hate my parents. I’ve been their perfect little immigrant daughter for way too long and I’ve had enough. They ripped me away from my home, my brother, my friends and everything I knew and they still expect me to stay perfect. They say they moved here for me. My mom and dad, in their 40s, with no prospects, no English, and no connections, left the only country they had known for decades just so I could have a better life. I am the only reason they’re here. My mom cries in the kitchen when she thinks I can’t hear. The circles under my father’s eyes are deep and dark.

At school, Heather and Jenna let me sit with them at lunch. They talk back to our teachers and smoke cigarettes in the yard. When I wear tight pants with full bum underwear, they laugh at me like I’m their dumb kid sister. “You have to wear a thong with those,” Heather scoffs. “You’re so funny.” She shakes her head and pulls the straps of her thong above the waistline of her jeans, snapping one of them against her skin so I can hear the sound. She leaves them there, pressing down on her hips ever so slightly. I tie my sweater around my waist for the rest of the day. When I get home, I beg my mom to take me shopping for new thongs. I need them for school. She refuses, so I make a note to steal them from La Senza the next time I’m there.

On weekends, we go to the mall and Heather and Jenna help me pick out new clothes. I’ve traded in my brother’s hand-me-down blue tracksuit for tight jeans and a baggy Exco sweatshirt. The smallest sizes they have at the store are still oversized for my small body, but I wear them with pride anyway, now that I’ve finally found my way into cool kid status. I wear black Fubu basketball shoes on my feet, even though I’ve never played. When we go out to the parking lot for a smoke, I pretend to inhale so I don’t have another coughing fit like last time.

I even have a boyfriend. A boy named Luke from school. He’s a year younger, but his older sister Melissa is friends with Jenna. Melissa is a ninth grader at the high school and we’ve never met, but everyone says she’s cool. She told Jenna that her little brother liked me, so we started dating.

He barely speaks when we’re together. We hold hands at school and dance together at the Moose Lodge. It’s a big, grimy room that someone rents out to host a dance party for kids on the first Saturday of every month. My friends and I always go. There’s a DJ and no one cares if we show up drunk. Luke and I kiss when everyone is looking. He’s a head shorter than me, so I have to duck down for him to reach. He’s always a gentleman, though. I even let him grab my ass sometimes.

Jenna, Heather, and I spend all our free time together. Jenna’s boyfriend Dustin and his friend Terrell start to hang around us a lot. Terrell’s a tall, skinny, black kid who always wears the same black and red football jacket. They’re both a year older than me, too. One day, Heather tells me that Terrell likes me and he wants me to be his girlfriend. I can’t stop thinking about his skinny arms. “You’re not too good for him, you know.” Her face goes from friendly to spiteful. “You’re dating a loser sixth grader. This’ll be good for your reputation.”

“What do I do about Luke?”

She pauses. “I’ll go tell Terrell you said yes.”

I quickly become Terrell’s girlfriend. It isn’t hard. We just hang out in groups most of the time and I all have to do is hold his hand. Sometimes he sneaks up behind me and grabs my waist. I cringe, but I let him stay there for a few seconds before I giggle and squirm away.

We are only alone once. He takes me into my bedroom and closes the door. My parents aren’t home and I’ve invited the group to my house. I’m sitting on my bed, waiting for what happens next. Terrell turns off the light and sits down next to me. I can see the whites of his eyes and his teeth shining. “We have to do something,” he says. “Can’t we just tell everyone we did?”

“I’m not going to lie for you.” We kiss with tongues for a few minutes. It isn’t horrible, but I don’t like it. When I think enough time has passed, I pull away. “Is that enough?”

“Yeah.” He stands up, turns on the light, and walks out of the room. I can hear him laughing and high-fiving with Dustin. I wonder what he told him we did. I come out of my room and join the group.

Someone must have told Luke that I’m dating someone else. He doesn’t look at me when we’re at school. It’s not like we ever talked much, but I miss him a little.

The third time I get caught shoplifting, my parents tell me that we’re moving. No matter how many tantrums I throw, they don’t change their minds. They take me to see houses in other cities and I always say I hate them. On Halloween, they move all our things out of our apartment to a condo in Mississauga. I spend the whole day with my friends and refuse to help.

I hardly talk to anyone at my new school. I already have friends; I don’t need new ones. Every weekend, I take the bus back to Etobicoke to see Jenna and Heather. I sleep over at one of their houses and we talk about boys, music, and shopping.

“I love your nose piercing, Jenna. It looks so badass.” I say.

“Why don’t you pierce your nose?”

I can’t take back the compliment and I can’t tell her I’m too scared. We spend the rest of the night piercing my nose with a sterilized needle. Millimeter by millimeter, the needle drives through skin and cartilage until it finally pops out the other side. We put in a gold stud with the Playboy Bunny on it. My nose is swollen and red.

When I get home, my dad has a fit. I can hear my parents arguing in the kitchen. He wants to forbid me from ever going back to Etobicoke again. She wants to trust me and let me figure it out on my own. My nose hurts. My dad orders me to take out the nose ring, so I only wear it at school and when I’m visiting my friends. It’s infected, but I can’t take it out now. I can’t ever take it out.

One Saturday afternoon, I’m hanging out at Heather’s house with the girls when Dustin calls Jenna on her cell phone. She puts him on speaker and I wonder what he could possible have to say to all of us.

“Ana, are you there?”

“Yeah.”

“Yo, Melissa wants to fight you.”

“Who’s Melissa?” I know exactly who Melissa is.

“Luke’s sister. She’s pissed that you cheated on him with Terrell. She wants to beat the shit out of you. Today.”

I look around to my friends, waiting for them to stand up for me, to protect me.

“You have to go. You don’t want to seem like a pussy,” Heather says.

“Yeah.” Jenna says this like it’s obvious. “Where does she want us to meet her, D?”

The conversation seems rehearsed. Like they already knew this was going to happen.

“At school. In half an hour. Terrell’s coming, too. See you there.”

Just like that, he hangs up. We’re silent for a second.

“Okay, let’s go.”

“Why does she want to fight me? She’s two years older than I am. And her brother didn’t even like me.” My voice is speeding up.

“Wow, don’t get so scared. Get your shit.”

We put on our jackets and leave the house.

“I have no reason to fight her. This is stupid.”

“You’re such a little bitch.” They laugh.

We walk all the way to the school in silence. I’m considering every exit strategy, but my legs only seem to move in one direction. I follow the footsteps of the two girls and watch my breath hanging in the air in front of me.

When we arrive at the schoolyard, there are five people there waiting. As we get closer, I recognize Terrell’s jacket. Dustin’s there, too. And Luke. There are two more faces I don’t recognize. A guy in a black hoodie and a tall girl with long black hair. Melissa.

“Hey bitch, you cheat on my brother?”

My mouth starts moving without me knowing. “Listen, I have no reason to fight you.”

“Oh the little bitch is scared now!”

There’s laughter from the crowd. I can’t tell who it’s coming from. Or if it’s everyone.

“I’m not scared. I’m just not going to fight you.”

“Well, I don’t care if you want to fight me, I’m going to beat the shit out of you.”

I’ve never been in a fight before, and it shows. Since I refuse to fight back, Melissa is just throwing punches at an unmoving target. Her arms and wrists are weak, so she doesn’t manage to knock me down.

“Fight back, you little bitch!” Melissa is panting.

“Fight back, Ana! What the fuck are you doing?”

I look around to my friends, but one of my eyes is closing up and I can’t see who’s yelling. Melissa starts to pull my hair and spin me around. I’m spinning and trying to make out who everyone is cheering for. She lets me go and I can finally see her, even though it looks like she’s spiralling. And the ground also looks like it’s spiralling. She’s flustered and sweaty and I realize her shoe fell off. I must have pushed her over and gotten it off her foot. She has scratches on her face. I wonder what my face looks like.

“Wow, this is pointless. If this cunt isn’t going to fight back, I’m going home. Let’s go, Melissa.” It’s a male voice speaking, but I haven’t heard it before, so it must be coming from the guy I couldn’t recognize. I will later find out that it’s Melissa and Luke’s older brother, who came along to see a good fight go down. Melissa spits at my face and puts her shoe back on. The rest of the family leaves. Luke doesn’t look at me.

I can’t breathe. I want to cry, but I don’t want to give anyone the satisfaction. I turn around and start walking towards the end of the yard, towards the street, away from the cheering crowd that has fallen silent now. Terrell, Jenna, Heather, and Dustin follow me, making jokes and comments I can’t hear. Dustin catches up with me and tries to touch my face. It burns.

“Ha! Is that a pimple? Man, you’re a shit fighter.”

“Thanks.” My voice is hoarse. I want to scream.

We walk to the park and hang out there for a while. I don’t talk much. When the time comes, I say short goodbyes and walk to the bus stop on my own. When I get to Mississauga, my mom is waiting for me at the bus station. She gasps and covers her mouth when she sees me. I must look hideous. “Are you happy now?” I’m crying and I already regret my words. She talks a lot and her eyes well up and she hugs me.

I don’t go to school that week. My eye gets better. I almost have my full vision back and the swelling has stopped. The following Saturday is the party at the Moose Lodge. I honour tradition and take the bus to Etobicoke. I haven’t spoken much to my friends this week, but I’ve forgiven them. They didn’t do anything wrong. They didn’t beat me up, or cheer for Melissa. It wasn’t their place to interfere. And Melissa didn’t do that much damage, anyway. My mother can’t believe it, but she lets me go. My father says nothing.

I meet my friends at the party and everything’s back to normal. We’re laughing and talking about all the funny shit that went down at school that week. We go outside for a smoke when I see a girl three times my size walking towards me. She has straight brown hair, big hoop earrings, dark eye makeup, and tight jeans that hug her in all the wrong places.

“Yo are you the bitch that scratched Melissa’s face?”

“I didn’t scratch Melissa’s face.” I can feel my knees shaking.

“Yeah, Melissa showed up at school this week crying she was so embarrassed. She said some Ana chick scratched her face up. Are you Ana?”

Heather and Jenna are quiet.

“She fought me, but I didn’t fight back. I might have accidentally scratched her face, but I didn’t mean to. She totally won the fight.” I’m trying too hard.

“Bitch, Melissa’s my best friend and some little girl isn’t gonna scratch her face up like that. I’ll kill you.”

I leave the party early that night. Heather and Jenna want me to sleep over with them, but I tell them I have to get up early and help my mom with something. They don’t believe me, but I don’t care.

I’ll never see them again.

Note: Some names in this story have been changed to protect the innocent and avoid the guilty.

Ana Rodriguez is a poet and non-fiction writer. Read her book of poems: I Swallow Your Heart. Follow her on Twitter: @anarodmac. More: www.anaro.ca