Krystal studied her neighbor. She was a pale, freckly girl with blonde, waist-length hair and blue eyes. He face was done up with just the right amount of tasteful makeup, and she was wearing a powder blue blouse with a Peter Pan collar and puff sleeves, Hollister-branded ripped jeans, and Jack Rogers sandals.
Wanting to fill the silence, Krystal greeted the preppy girl. "Hey, 'sup?"
"Ooh, Hiyeeee!" the girl chirped. She suddenly covered her mouth. "Err, I mean... yo... bitch."
Krys raised an eyebrow. "Okaaaaaaay... Anyway, I'm Krystal Brock, but you can call me Krys."
"Super to meet you Kryssy!" said the other girl. "My name's Jenna Olsen, but please call me J-Dawg."
"Oh?" said Krys. "Hate to be a bitch, but you don't really look like a J-Dawg."
Jenna blushed. "Not yet. I'm here to get remade as a gangsta bitch. I've loved rap my whole life, but I just can't act ghetto. Not convincingly, anyway. I just can't keep the slang straight, I'd die without pumpkin spice lattes and yoga classes, I run from every fight I see, and my fashion sense evaporates as soon as I'm away from designer logos and ruffles. And then there's my looks. To be blunt, I'm a honky. White, white, white. I thought there was nothing about that... and then I met Circe, and I'm totally about to live my dream! I'm gonna be black, and I'm gonna be a gangsta! YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!"
Krys had to cover her ears to mute the happy squeal. "Cool. I'm here because I wanna ditch all this punk shit and get all cute and innocent. Sorta like you, but without the brand logos. You know, frilly dresses and teddy bear collections."
Jenna smiled at her new, green-haired friend. "I can't wait for my stylist to come back! It's supposed to be Morgan le Fay herself. I'm just so EXCITED for her to change me into J-Dawg!"