Chapter 1
The only thing I knew about American high schools were from stereotypical rom-com movies, but even then I did not suppose Wrickenridge High would bow down to those stereotypes. As soon as you stepped into the car park at Wrickenridge, you could tell who
was who. British stereotypes may have been different, but Mean Girls taught me all I needed to know about surviving in High School. I felt misplaced even so, like a vegetable in a fruit bowl. The difference was not obvious, but it was still
there, like a small yet irritating spot.
Just like the movies, I thought to myself as I took off my helmet, careful not to turn on my hair's static electricity and end up looking like a spider. I slid off my scooter and headed towards the main building, taking in the scenery as I passed. Sports-crazy jocks,
I noted as I walked past the large Range Rover surrounded by tall, well-built guys in sports kit, too focussed on lifting weights and flexing their biceps. I was already the shortest person around for a five mile radius.. Talk about shoving it in
my face. On the opposite side were the smart cars, the built-in solar panels, hydroelectric kind. Those kids with the rimless glasses, the books too new and crisp to be real and the hair that was far too tamed. They kept out of everyone's ways as
if we would dull their intellect. I was pretty sure my lack of organisation would offend them.
A skateboarder soared past me, out of nowhere. And then of course, there were the careless dudes with no worries except for wondering which skateboard trick would impress all the chicks. I had to resist the urge to roll my eyes as one of then pulled off
a heel flip, directly in front of the view of the cheerleaders. Definitely had to be a coincidence.
The cheerleaders, who I guess pretty much were your average pretty, single-minded girls, giggled on cue. Mentally cringing, I walked away, just metres away from the building- hopefully a safe haven from all these people.
That was when the most important vehicle on the road entered the car park. The red sports car- so new it had not even begun selling in stores yet. You could practically see the flames rolling off those smoking wheels as the car slid into its parking spot,
obviously permanently reserved, in one easy move. I picked up my pace. Everyone knew it was best to avoid those girls. High school drama was not going to get me anywhere. The flowing hair, flashing sunglasses and trendy clothing all seemed to be a
label for: suffer, all ye who cross our paths. You get the general idea.
The corridors were as busy as heck, hardly the safe haven I had been hoping for. It was flooding with the chatter of hundreds of teenagers. I wondered if they could actually hear each other or if they simply rambled on, hoping someone would hear. I could
feel eyes scanning me up and down as I stuck close to the lockers, out of the way. Clumsy was my middle name and the last thing I wanted was to show myself up as the weird new British girl. Just stay out of harm's way. Though, just as I thought
that, I could already see harm heading straight for me in the form of one clumsy, awkward teenager- an accident waiting to happen. Basically the teenage version of me.
I could see the pandemonium stretch out before me like a panorama before it even happened. A bucket of white paint carried by a bunch of irresponsible teenagers laughing at their own jokes and a water spillage in front of a clumsy teenager always led
to trouble. Experience had taught me so much. All I could do was watch as the scene folded out before me like a pop-up book and soon found myself staring at the same girl, now on her hands and knees, scanning the ground for the book that had slid
over to my foot. Her clothes were splatted with paint and the book was fully soaked-ruined. I could feel it by my foot as the girl stood up, looking frustrated rather than embarrassed. That was when the queen bees entered the house. All flowing hair
waving flawlessly behind them and bright white teeth shining in false smiles. Great. Talk about wrong time, wrong place. I could have left the book there and disappeared, but my conscience would not have left me. Regretting my entire life there and
then, I bent down to pick up the book. It was the spiral bound kind- seemed like a sketchbook. The owner would not be happy to receive it back in such a condition, but it wasn't my fault so I walked over to where she was gathering her bags from the
floor and cleared my throat elaborately.
"I think this is yours," I said, as she turned towards me. "It was on the floor." The girl seemed surprised that I was talking to her, let alone picked up her notebook from the floor and had given it to her.
"Um, thanks," she muttered unsurely. "Oh, crap." I looked to wear her eyes had fallen and found her staring at those girls, strutting towards us like a bunch of graceful gazelles. The middle one, clearly the leader, broke off from the trio and walked
into the hug of a tall, hot guy. Talk about living the life. Every other girl there looked at her as if she was their god. Which I'm pretty sure they thought she was.
"Are you okay?" I asked, even though we both knew the answer was no. Without replying the girl dove behind the bin, seeking some kind of protection. I had to laugh at the irony. The girl had muscles fit enough for a lion yet she was hiding from these
gazelles.
Seconds later, a muffled whisper came from the bin.
"Are they gone?"
"Um, yeah." I checked once more. Yep, they had definitely gone. The crowd had finally seemed to lessen in the hallway all of a sudden.
"Phew," the girl sighed and climbed up from behind the bins. "Thanks for the book." She looked down at the book, to find it soaked in white paint. She didn't seem to be surprised about it all.
"You must be new to the school," she exclaimed, turning her gaze towards me.
"Yeah. I'm from England," I replied.
"Do you want me to show you to the principal's office?" she asked me, flicking some paint off her book.
"Um, no thanks. I think I can manage," I replied quickly and walked away briskly. She seemed nice but two accidents in one place was never a good idea. It was like a law. A law that I would no doubt be breaking.
"...any questions young lady?"
I stared blankly at the principal's face, wondering what on earth he had been going on about for the past half an hour or so.
"Um...no?" I replied, stifling a yawn behind the sleeve of my black and white jumper. I picked up my black fedora hat from the floor that must have slid off when I dozed off and sat up straight. The principal sighed as if he knew I had not been listening
to a word he had said and simply handed me a few forms to sign. I left the office with an aching hand and I am pretty sure I yawned about fifty times in there. Slowly walking down the empty hallway, I fingered the buckle of the thin leather belt that
shone under the bottom of my jumper. Principal Duvall seemed nice enough, but I felt pretty sorry for him. He had to deal with an entire school full of cliques. That must be a pretty hard deal and only a great big pay check could compensate for such
a loss.
I pulled out my timetable, folded into eighths from the depths of the pocket of my denim jeans and searched for my next lesson. First lesson to be precise. Advanced Physics. Physics hadn't always been my strong point. I definitely preferred Chemistry
and Biology, but when it came to either Physics or Advanced Mathematics, I was suddenly more open to that option. I stopped outside room Ph7. Punny. I wondered if someone had named it that on purpose. It would've been more suitable for a chemistry
classroom. I should have known there and then that this was not going to end well. Any school that names its physics classrooms Ph7 has serious issues.
This is my first ever fanfiction but I'm not really sure if it's any good. Reviews would be really nice thank you and I'd appreciate some constructive criticismto help me improve anything
Thank you so much! xxx