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I continued the rest of my day normally, or as normally as I could. With my mind swarming with the odd interactions of this morning with what I was told was a dangerous group of friends crowding my mind, I found it difficult for me to focus throughout the day. Thankfully, it was only the first day so the teachers barely gave any work, spending most of the period going over the classroom rules and guidelines - some teachers going into unnecessarily in-depth details about their personal lives that crowded more than half the period. Though I guess I would rather listen to a teacher drone on about their failed love life than have piles and piles of work dumped onto me on the first day, so I couldn't really complain.

I hadn't talked to many others since my first school interaction, aside from a stout brunette who had asked to borrow a pencil in social studies. What he needed the pencil for was a mystery at the time, seeing as said class was mainly focused on the professors complaining about his fruitless love life, but if I had to guess I would say it had to do with the scribbling that followed, his frame hunched over his desk secretly before he slipped something onto a blonde girls desk beside him, followed by stifled laughter from both parties.

I never did get that pencil back, but that was fine. It wasn't like I was going to ask him for it back at the end of class. I had kind of expected it to be taken, it was an unspoken rule when giving away a pencil: knowing that lending it to another (especially someone you didn't know) was like waving off a soldier to war, never truly knowing if they were coming back but secretly hoping they would. I probably shouldn't compare giving away a pencil to sending a soldier to war, but I cont find it in me to form another comparison.

I could have flat out denied having any spares, seeing as I truly only had 3, but my pencil case lay stupidly on my desk, and denying would probably result in an awkward atmosphere. So I just silently handed over one of my more dingy pencils, accepting I was never going to see it again.

I never did get his name, but that was fine I didn't want to talk to him again anyways. I suspect it started with a 'C', seeing it was sewn onto his red jersey jacket in bold white and black lettering.

other than that I hadn't had the pleasure of talking with anyone else.

Now it's the end of the day and I'm walking along the paved streets to my new house. the pavement had streaks of snow from residents' rushed snow shoveling and clunks of salt sprinkled about, crunching under my boots.
I'd say I've successfully completed the first day of my new life, but no that wasn't right.

Even though the school day had ended, my new life had only just begun.

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i literally dont remember writing this and yet you do-

i hope this makes sense and fits the timeline thingy idk- uhhhh

👍👍👍