Name: Naoko Utami First, Last
Age: 15
Gender: Female
Grade: 10
Strong Subjects: English, Track and Field, and Music Scholarship
Zodiac Sign: Taurus
Hair: Dark, long hair. Is normally worn in a messy bun.
Eyes: Redish with silver around the pupel.
Other: She live's alone and supports herself waitressing at a coffee shop, and she also performs there for extra cash ((and no she is NOT a striper!!)).
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Chapter 1: The Beginning:
My vision was blurred, as I slid the covers of my warm bed over my head, while my radio alarm clock blared the current song on one of my favorite radio stations.
"WAKE UP! Grab a brush and put on a little make up!" boomed System of a Down, over the radio.
The song continued till I finally managed to roll over and shut it off, in the end, also making myself fall off my bed to the hard floor.
Thump!
I landed face down on the floor, needless to say, I was now awake. I cussed under my breath and fumbled to my feet, trying to make my way to the connected bathroom. "That was a rather ironic song to wake up to." I mumbled trying to find the humor in my annoying wake up call. As I tried to work a comb through my wild bed head, then getting a pair of clean clothes. I looked over at the red neon numbers on the alarm clock. It read 5:08 am, but it wasn't until 6:30 am that I finally made it to my new school.
It was my first day at Ouran High School and I already had my doubts that I would like this school any better than my previous one. Sure it was grand, with the tall ceilings that were adorn with beautiful chandeliers, large curved stair ways, and smooth white granite floors. It had several library's and music rooms, and probably some of the most knowledgeable teachers available. But even so I had never really fit in anywhere before, so what were the chances of fitting in at a school full of snotty rich bastards?
I sat on a bench that rested under a large tree, and 'people watched' as Ouran students socialize with each other… and that was all they seemed to do. I didn't see one person actually studying, or doing anything of real importance. It seemed like it was just a party to them. I stared off into the sea of yellow and blue as everyone talked, and played around. The girl's bright yellow dresses making me glad that I couldn't afford the standard school uniforms. Even if I could afford them, I would probably refuse to wear the vomit yellow dress. Instead of the Ouran uniforms I wore a black pleated skirt that went a little higher than my knees, with a red tank that peeked out from under a white work shirt, and a matching red tie. On my feet I wore a pair of new, and very uncomfortable, black work shoes that were slightly raised in the back to give my a few more inches to my height. As for my extremely long hair, I had it up in a messy bun, so that way it wouldn't get in my way as much. I actually preferred this attire highly over the uniform, but it also made me stick out like a sore thumb. I rested my head on my hands, with my elbows propped up on my knees, a yawn escaping me. The huge clock tower chimed seven o' clock, and I rose to my feet. I pulled a wrinkled piece of paper from my messenger bag backpack, and headed for the first class on my list.
Class 10-A.