(So, here I was thinking that Warriors High School was an idea I'd come up with. Turns out there's a ton of Warriors High School fanfiction out there, so I apologize if this seems similar to anyone else's story; I assure you it's an accident. I also apologize for any formatting mistakes because I'm new and this is my first story. Please enjoy!)
||Fireheart||
When I woke up, it was still dark outside. The house was completely silent except for the shallow gasps escaping my mouth. I'd had the dream again, and I knew I wouldn't be able to get back to sleep. Upon rolling over and glancing at my clock, I groaned as I realized I wouldn't have to anyway. My alarm was set to go off in 3… 2… 1…
I reached over and slammed my hand down on the clock the second is started beeping. Grumbling to myself, I threw off the blankets and hurried to dress and get ready for school. After the dream, I had an even bigger feeling of dread than usual. I'd been having the dream since before Mom told me we'd be moving, imagining standing in a hallway among nothing but strangers, and having them all stare at me like I was a freak. It wasn't the typical naked-in-the-school-hall nightmare, but it was bad enough.
And then Mom informed me cheerfully that my new school year – the start of my freshman year – would not be with all my friends back home. No, we were moving to a new state, and I'd get to start all over in a new school. She'd said it so happily, like I should be excited by the thought of this. How could I be excited? Like starting high school isn't bad enough, but to have to start with a bunch of people I don't even know?
She kept calling it a fresh start as we'd packed about a week ago. She'd been practically giddy the whole ride here. Of course it was easier for her. She was starting over with a higher-paying job and a new boss. It sounded amazing to her. She, however, didn't have to face a bunch of judgmental teenagers. Nope, she got to be as cheerfully absent from my life as Dad (wherever he was).
I knew Mom had already gotten up and left for work by the faint smell of coffee lingering in the air. She couldn't get through a single day without coffee. And she wasn't like other moms who stayed to make sure their children made it school okay on their first day, or who even bothered to make sure their child was awake and fed. At this point, I'd grown accustomed to taking care of myself, so it wasn't that big a deal; I only wished she cared enough to ask me if I was okay with this new situation.
My dream didn't quite come true the way I expected it. I walked into the school and was not stared at, not pointed at or laughed it. Rather, I was ignored. Everywhere around me there were the kids who were obviously freshmen like me, standing in groups, getting in peoples' way, and just generally looking lost. And then there were all the upperclassmen, giving the freshmen irritated looks and looking much more sure of themselves.
I'd been so lost that I'd even envied the other freshmen for a few moments; at least they already had friends they could stick with when they felt lost. Me? I had my schedule, a map of the school, and a desperate hope that I wouldn't make a fool of myself in front of everyone.
Somehow, I'd managed to make my way to my homeroom, where I immediately sat down without thinking. Only minutes later, a snobby-looking girl flounced over and said snottily, "You know, that's my seat." My first instinct was to think she was just trying to make a scene, and I was going to argue, but then my eyes landed on the papers on the desk and I realized that they actually had a girl's name on them.
"Oh," I said lamely, standing quickly. "My bad."
"Honestly," she sniffed, looking at the chair as if I'd somehow contaminated it before sitting down. "Can't you read?"
I walked away from there quickly, scanning the other desks carefully for my name. No one else seemed to notice my mistake, so that saved me at least some embarrassment as I looked around. Finally, I spotted "Fireheart" scrawled hastily across some papers, and I gratefully sat down.
I'd hoped that it would get more peaceful from there, but immediately the guy sitting beside me spun around and gave me a blinding grin. "Hi there, newbie!" he said, not unkindly. It must have shown on my face that I was wondering how he knew I was new because he went on, "Oh, yeah, I know you're new. This isn't a very big school, so when someone new shows up it's kind of a big deal. I'm Graystripe, by the way."
"Fireheart," I told him with a nod.
"Hey, give me your schedule," Graystripe said suddenly. I was reluctant to – I wasn't sure what he meant to do with it, and I hadn't yet memorized it – but I still handed it over warily. Graystripe didn't seem to notice my hesitation as he snatched it from my hand and compared it to his own. "Cool, dude. We have algebra II and Civics together." He handed my schedule back with a grin. At that moment the bell rang. "See you around, dude," he called behind him as he walked off.
||Bluestar||
This was the first day of my last year of high school. And I was planning on it being perfect.
I drove the girls to school in my SUV, as usual. We all had to arrive together to keep up our reputations. We were the It Girls of our school, and we had to stick together; we had to make people want to be one of us.
Our group had gotten considerably smaller after all our seniors graduated last year. Now, Spottedleaf and I were the only seniors left. We had only one junior, Silverstream, and one sophomore, Brightheart. Of course, we would recruit the most popular freshmen girls and train them to take over for us, but for now we were several girls short.
Spottedleaf had her usual spot beside me in the passenger seat, and she was looking at me in that way she had, completely even and unabashed. "What's the plan for today, Bluestar?" she asked. Her voice was like her gaze, steady, soft, yet gently prying. She had this way about her. She'd never challenged me to lead our group – we all knew I was the best option to take over – yet she always seemed to know more than she was letting on, and somehow I felt that while she appeared submissive and gentle, she had more control than she let on. That was why she was my best friend.
"You know, the usual, girls," I said loudly, as if everyone had asked. "Scope out any new girls and pretty little freshmeat." The other girls who didn't make our cut, of course, would just have to learn to stay out of our way.
