I wont lie when I tell you I've basically decided to trash my other stories. I will leave them up, of course, for your enjoyment. I just felt totally insecure about them and wasnt sure how I would go about fixing them because I felt like I had outgrown them (in terms of writing prowess and style).
So here is a new story I decided to start writing. Yes, its another high school fanfic. Im obsessed with those. But honestly, Ive enjoyed writing it so far. Ill probably post another chapter super soon, since i can carry a flash drive around to continue typing and editing it. Anyhow, here is the first chapter to what i hope will be a much more successful story.
Oh, and by the way, this story is also on Quotev, under the auther Jade. That account is mine as well. I just miss the way it felt to post something on FanFiction because they always felt more successful and appreciated here. I think I'll quit yammering now. XD
Enjoy.
Starlit
Chapter One: And on the First Day…
It seems I always do the best thinking in the shower. Maybe it's something about the steam, or the progressive heat, or the water droplets massaging my back, but I always wound up having my most outrageous revelations when shampooing my hair and all that jazz. This particular morning, however, I wasn't pondering some life altering choice, or the possibility of organisms on other planets, or even what benefits would improve if we shipped all of the immoral idiots to a special prison on an island where we would promote the survival of the fittest and natural selection.
No, my most taxing and totally ridiculous revelation was, for once, that of a random school girl; how in hell I would survive the first day at a brand new high school.
It may not surprise most people when a girl contemplates what she will wear, how will she act, and who she will impersonate to impress her peers. But me being…well, me, it was almost unheard of. Back when I lived in Destiny, I wasn't known for my looks. It wasn't like I was unattractive-I know when I tried I could look decent. I was just buried in my books, studying for my exams, and ignoring society. A straight A student, President of Student Council, blah blah blah. I didn't have many friends, and when it came to attending social events, I was forced into being an awkward penguin with two left feet and the conversational skills of a three year old.
I didn't find myself fit for being around people.
My mother, however, sought a different route for me. She was always a free spirit; one day she was surfing the beach, and the next she was playing with crystals and practicing magic. She sought a better opportunity for me socially, so I was forced to uproot myself from my stable, comfortable lifestyle and moved to the quaint, populated beach of Twilight Town, where I would be encouraged my said mother to spread my wings and experience more in life than just books.
So in my current situation, it was safe to say that for once, judging everything I was going to do would be the correct and understandable decision. I was desperate to blend in, but when your mom spends money on clothes and eggs you to improve your social agenda, you just cant help but to be dominated by the curiosity of the "other world". That was my situation.
Turning the shower head off, I bit my lip nervously. Today was the day; Summer vacation ended last night for the teens of Twilight Town, and today marked the first attempt of being 'the New Me'.
It was terrifying.
I wasn't ever even sure of what to do with my hair, and since I normally took showers in the morning my mom came to the rescue. Along my cabinet shelf was an assortment of care products, from Paopu Essences to little bottles with names I couldn't pronounce. Grabbing a can of mousse, I scrunched the foamy substance into my hair, and pinned my bangs to the side as a finishing touch. My long, partially wet brunette curls flowed around my bare shoulders as I stared into the mirror.
'Fair enough,' I thought. This was as good as it was going to get.
Pastel dominated my closet, so I pulled out light denim straight legged jeans, a tank and a butterfly style shirt. It wasn't like I knew how to really put a spectacular, eye catching outfit together-fashion wasn't one of my pros. So I went with the only thing a drowning, socially deprived girl would go with. Instinct. Pulling the ensemble on, I tossed my plain black pack over one of my shoulders, grabbing my lunch sack with my free hand. I was as ready as I would ever be.
My mother was down stairs, painting a mural on the wall of one of the rooms in the two story house. When I trampled down the stairway, she called out to me from her perch on her ladder.
"Alaska! Quick-should I do a tie-dye effect or a rainbow burst?"
Rolling my eyes, I hiked the pack higher on my shoulder, shouting back, "What's the difference?"
Exasperatedly, she hollered, "Everything's the difference!"
"Then…do the burst!"
I grabbed my house key, shouting a goodbye through the door as I slammed it shut. Nothing good could come of her being artistic on the wall of a house, but there was nothing to stop her from doing whatever she wanted. I guess that's one of the reasons I admired my mother so much. Her independence was commendable, her feisty disposition non-refutable. And with those thoughts in mind, I was off, kicking dirt and trekking up to the sidewalks from the beach house. I was marching further away from safety, and into the devastating arms of nervous disaster and post-traumatic stress that would be high school.
Keeping in mind that I was a typical 'nerd', my schedule consisted of numerous Honors and Advanced Placement classes. In that prospect, I wouldn't be one with the rest of my peers because of my advanced intelligence. Not to brag on it, of course. I still had the social appeal of a sloth.
So when I stepped through the doors of first periods AP Literature class, I wasn't sure what I was expecting. Maybe a few kids with glasses, pushing them higher on their faces while they talked about the works of Langston Hughs, or George Orwell. Or perhaps complete silence, everyone leaning over their desks deep in thought, piecing together poetry to impress their teacher on the first day of classes.
None the less, what I got was certainly not what I expected. Opening the door to the classroom labeled AP Lit-3, I found myself nearly floored by a speeding soccer ball as it passed just inches from the side of my face. Letting out a yelp, I dodged it at the last moment as somebody in the room shouted for me to 'watch out'.
I watched, sure enough. The black and white ball bounced around on the floor in front of me, and finally seized its movement by one of the far walls across the hallway. I stared at the object, calculating the mass of it by its looks, and determined almost immediately that I had just avoided my prominent death.
"Are you alright? I am sooo sorry!"
Huh? I turned to face a pair of spectacular blue eyes, full of warmth and worry, directed at yours truly. As he pushed his spiky blond locks out of his face, I opened my mouth to speak, squeaking instead. Embarrassed, I promptly closed my mouth and nodded. His cerulean blue eyes had startled me, uncharacteristically, and feeling uncomfortable, I side stepped him and continued to scurry into the room and nab a seat in the middle, by the window of the class room. I was willing to socialize with another girl, but boys were a whole new species to me. Definitely not ready for that.
Must be level 10 to unlock this feature. Im a level 0.5.
He retrieved his soccer ball and dribbled it back into the class room on his knee as another student walked in.
"Still on the soccer kick, eh Roxas?" The tall red head, also with spiky hair, lightly smacked the blond in the back of the head, who bounced the ball onto his hand and tucked it under his arm as he rubbed the back of his head with his other hand.
"Ouch! Geez Axel, could you be a little nicer?" He quipped.
The red head, "Axel", grinned cheekily. "Of course I could. I just choose not to."
"Take your seats, boys."
A teacher had abruptly appeared behind them, causing the two to jump and scramble for their seats. A short, dark haired man with a huge book in his hand took his seat at the front of the classroom, eying all of the students. I knew looks like that. He was surveying us all, depicting who he thought would survive his class. He was going to be a difficult teacher, and I was immediately fascinated with the prospect of the class. The blond boy with the beautiful eyes sat down-eek!-right next to me, and the red head behind him. Trough my peripheral, I got a better look at him. He was slender, lean but not muscular. Definitely the body type of a soccer jock. His hair wasn't just blond, it was a dirty blond, sandy color that most girls would spend loads of munny trying to get. It looked like his favorite two colors were black and white, complete with a checkered wristband. He was pale and serene, his face open and his eyes inviting. Someone who seemed like he would be a great friend to have.
Of course, him being a jock he was probably a total jerk.
"Two o'clock, bro," the red head whispered to him. The hell?
Roxas' eyes lightened a shade, and he turned his head to look at me. That was when I realized I wasn't being secretive about my dynamic study of him. I jolted, my face hot, and I quickly averted my eyes from disaster. What the heck was the matter with me? This was some stupid boy who probably pretended to be nice until he could dig up dirt on someone. And I was being girly and kind of stupid, just because his eyes were my favorite color.
Well, it wasn't gonna happen. Not me, anyways. I had enough class to not get trapped in that crap. I blinked, feeling the heat dicipate from my face as I zeroed in on my first professors lesson.
I ignored the fact that to my right, a pair of crystal blue eyes bore into me, probably trying to snake its way into my soul.
