The condensation of my breath gathered to the cold window as the dull roar of the other people on the bus clamored excitedly about their weekends. I however had nothing to say about my weekend. I never did; cause I never did anything. I closed my eyes and tried to shut out their voices more than ever. I hate high school.
Like many others I was more than ready to move away from the middle of no where town and start my life somewhere else; somewhere new. Well over a decade of school made everything seem like an adventure, and there was nothing for me here anymore. I was a social outcast, mostly for the way I decided to dress, but also for being intensely smart. Last year as a junior I was offered a full ride to Oxford, but decided to finish out high school before making any life altering decisions. Boy was that a mistake. Now in my senior year I could smell the freedom that was only a few months away. That and the morning "wake-and-bake".
The ancient bus rounded a corner, pressing my face against the cold window reawakening me to my own reality. I sighed and sat up right, rubbing away the moisture that had collected on my cheek. I looked forward and saw the red brick building looming ahead in the rising sunlight, annoyance blooming in the pit of my stomach. I turned and looked out the window at the people who were lucky enough to have their own cars, or friends to transport them to school. The buzz on the bus slowly quieted down as we pulled up the curb, everyone on the edge of their seats waiting to leap to their feet once those bus doors opened. I learned it was best to wait and let everyone off first as to avoid being trampled. The final step to stopping the bus, the squeaking brakes and the lurching of the students who were too eager. Finally the bus stopped the and doors opened. In a rush of madness people surged forward, pushing each other over to reach the exit and breath fresh air. It was reminiscent of a black-Friday at Walmart; a cuckoo-cuckoo house. I waited in silence as an endless stream of young teenagers rushed past my seat, knowing full well that trying to jump out would be suicide.
Once the final person passed my seat I stood up and walked out in the aisle, with my back-pack tossed over my shoulder in a truer than life nonchalant form. Only a few seats away from the driver I made my quick descent down the steps and hopped onto the gray pavement. My snow white blonde hair bounced carelessly and for a moment all I could see was the pale strands of my hair. A stray breeze drifted across my path and blew my hair back, once more revealing the high school in its looming glory, now standing three stories above me.
"Beacon Hills High School."