The tears in my eyes finally ran dry. I was only two blocks away from the new school and already I felt like a outsider. Constance Billiard Academy was the name of the all-girl section of The New York School of Excellence. Its brother school, St. Judes harbored the richest, most snotty future businessmen of America, while Constance was the training ground for the future socialites, charity ball-going, Ivy League, mothers of the year of New York.
To think that last month I was happy in sunny Florida and now, I was stuck in the most air-congested noise making city in the entire United States.
"Unhappiness is a state of mind", my mother would say.
"Mom" I sighed.
My mother had died three weeks ago, when a drunken hard ass from none other than New York ran over the new convertible she had just bought me for my birthday with his hummer. She had the top down. It was safe to say I didn't want what was left of the car.
Now I was in the last place I ever wanted to be. My dad, Charlie was police chief of New York and though with my mom I never had much money, my dad had no problems paying the tuition for Constance Billiard, even if it could have fed an entire third world country for a month.
So here I was in front of the ancient Entrance to the old school, and all I could notice was that I could definitely not fit in. Every girl was wearing designer shoes stockings, and not to forget the all attractive, hair bands. It was only October, but with my luck, winter had come early and all the girls were wearing gloves, coats and scarves, all in such colors that the uniform was barely recognizable.
I however, had stuck to my black and blue plaid skirt, white shirt, and plaid tie. The only thing to separate me from them was my knee high black boots, and my white ivory coat, it seemed to me, color was a must in this school. Not to mention my lack of a hair band practically screamed outsider.
When I got out of the dad my dad had appointed me and all eyes turned in my direction. I had a built in siren, and the looks I got told me that friendliness was not a New York custom.