[2] New School, New Me
"Ohmygosh, I love your outfit!" A leggy blonde with an annoyingly chirpy voice appears out of nowhere as I get to my new locker.
How can anyone be so energetic this early in the morning? I do not understand morning people.
She has on more makeup than I thought is humanly possible and is wearing a skirt that's way too short for school. She looks like the quintessential queen bee, but despite her mean girl appearance, there's no denying that she is stunning.
I hesitantly thank her for the compliment, fully aware that she's probably trying to intimidate me. I've seen enough movies to know that every small town school has its own version of Regina George. As I glance down at my own clothes, I can't deny that my style is far from chic. I would like to say that my style is effortlessly chic, but I'd only be kidding myself if I did. Effortless, yeah. Chic? Probably not. My ripped jeans and tattered Scooby-Doo shirt are not exactly high fashion. Why did I choose comfort over style for my first day?
"My name is Ashleigh McKnight, by the way. You must be new here," she says, her voice piercing my eardrums like a bat's screech.
"I'm Kathryn," I say, hoping my politeness will fend off any Regina George-esque intimidation tactics.
"Nice to meet you, Katy. I've got to get to class, but I'll see you around!" She waves and walks away.
Katy? Seriously? I already hate her. Out of all the nicknames that people come up with for me, Katy is the worst. What am I, Katy Perry? Not that there's anything wrong with Katy Perry, it's just that when I sing, I sound like my grandma Sylvia. Spoiler alert: she sounds like a dying frog.
I look around and see a sea of high schoolers. Some are leaning against lockers, glued to their phones, while others are busy making out with their significant others. I can't help but wonder how the teachers are cool with that. Back in my old school, those lovebirds would've gotten a week of detention.
As I stand here feeling like an outsider in a new world, I observe the chaos around me. I can't help but think how much nicer it would be to just chill at home, binge-watching a show on Netflix.
I only had a few close friends back home in New York but they were more than I could ever ask for. Especially Jules. Not too many people wanted to associate with the girl who was always in trouble and wore too much black. Not that I cared much about my old reputation anyway.
Alright, fine. Maybe I did a little.
It just got old quickly. It's not like I want to be popular. I just want to blend in and have some sort of sense of normality in my life. And now I have a chance to do just that. New school, new me. No more getting into fights, no more suspensions. Just a normal life. Maybe some friends. I'm so glad Macey goes here so at least I won't be all alone. It's too bad that she had to reach class early but maybe she'll show me around later today.
"Ugh," I groan as I make my way to my first class at Riverbrook High, which happens to be algebra with Ms. Winstead. Sounds fun.
Not.
I find out that walking down the hallway with an internal monologue like a character from a teen TV show isn't very realistic as I walk straight into another person.
"Shit, sorry!"
As my eyes dart up, I try to stifle a gasp at the sight of a guy with piercing blue eyes that sparkle like the ocean. Our eyes meet, and I realize that my own eyes are in line with his long, crooked nose. I can't help but wonder if it is naturally like that or if it's a result of a break. I take in his slight stubble and the way his black leather jacket looks so effortlessly cool on him, but before I can say anything, he cuts me off. "Watch it," he says, as he walks away.
But it's too late; I'm already entranced. The guy is hot, and that's an understatement. He's more like, Greek-god-good-looking. Suddenly, my annoyance with my boring new school turns into intrigue, and I can't help but wonder who he is.
.
.
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A/N
I think Candice Accola makes a great Ashleigh. What do you think?
Please vote and comment! Xx
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