My life as an exploited extrovert

One of America's most treasured traditions, the senior picture, is one to be had. My family moved to Phoenix, Arizona at the end of my junior year of high school. New to this American scene, I was told to embark on the journey that is the senior picture. No big deal, I thought to myself, 5 minutes in some boring chair and we're done. WRONG!, 2 hours, four outfit changes and additional toodling later I had finished my senior pics. These pictures were taken in the summer and I'd hardly remembered the stint. I had started a fresh senior year at Gilbert High School. Only days into my semester did I notice posters all around school. These posters were advertising senior pictures. Quite happy with myself for getting that photo magic out of the way early, I continued on with my day. I took a double take at the poster I passed, there was someone familiar on this 27 by 40 sheet of paper. Why it was me, I looked around to see if anyone was looking at them. No one seemed to be paying much attention. So I walked on just to see that every single wall in every single hallway had a large poster of my face on it. "no one will notice" I thought to myself, "I'm new here and besides my hair is curled in these pictures, I never wear curls to school." While this statement might have been true for these small wall posters, it was definitely not true for the more than life sized, gigantic portrait of my face hanging off the balcony in our schools atrium, enticing all my fellow classmates to do as I did. Convincing myself that I was just a bug on the wall(no pun intended) I chose to ignore these poster, I walked to my class. I sat down quietly and adjusted my skirt, the young gentleman beside me whispered, "we made out last night". This was definitely not true, I was at home eating ice cream, watching Disney channel, I mean cool shows all night. A little flushed I said "no I don't think we did". He leaned in further and said "oh yeeeah, we slept together too". This was not true either, the only man I'd ever slept with was Waddlesworth, my stuffed penguin (and technically he's a bird). I chose the high road and ignored this ghastly lie, just as the young gentleman pulled out a poster from his bag and kissed it. In fact, the young man wasn't a fabricator, he did sleep with AND kiss my face.