Hey Guys! So I'm Angela, and this is my first posting (not story) for FanFiction! I hope you enjoy it. It will kind of follow a fairy tale-type plot to it (you know, the helpers, the good, the bad, the mistaken, so on and so forth.) And the main character's name is Angela too! Ahaha! Enjoy!
I tried to move, but my feet stood firmly in place. I could feel my eyes bulge, and my pupils became dilated. A strong pair of arms shook me, and a gentle voice called out my name.
"Angela! Wake up!" My eyes opened in a startled fashion. I saw my mother looking down at me. "It's time for your first day." She smiled and walked out of my room. Great. That's just great. Because all I need is to be the "new kid" again. I wasn't ready for this. I had been to 5 schools in the past 3 years. It was my senior year, (although I was much, much older) and this, as my mother put it, was my last stop. No more running, no more leaving, no more packing. Which we were still doing. Or, rather, unpacking. There were still boxes lying around the house. I had to leave my other 5 high schools because of my lack of social ability. It's not because I'm awkward or anything, it isn't even my fault. According to some. But things have happened that have made me run away. And my mother was all too willing to run with me.
Whatever. I rose from my bed and went to pick out some clothes. I never really had a certain "style." I just wore what I liked. And today I liked my new pair of jeans and my white cami, along with some white sandals. Florida. That was the thing I really liked about our move. It was warm, and it was still summer. So I could go swimming, and I could tan, and I could wear cami's. My favorite things of all time. I really hoped I could pull it off. The whole "new girl" thing, I mean. Switching schools, moreover states, came with great opportunities. I had been so socially awkward at my past 5 schools. And people made fun of me, or completely ignored me. So I left. It was miserable. But I had finally grown into myself. My chest finally filled out, I grew a few inches, which put me at 5 foot 4, and I lost my loser braces. All in all, I did feel like a new person. But my old self image still haunted me.
The new school was public, thank goodness, so I didn't have to wear those awful uniforms from some of my other schools. I pulled on some shoes and headed down the stairs. My house contained largely of bookshelves and paintings. I was the reader, and my mom was the painter. Mom started off as an admirer, but over the years, she picked up the brush. And as it turns out, she's amazing. Seriously. She sells her work, and we conveniently relocated near a market where she could sell the paintings. My room was covered in her painting, the halls lined with them. She thought it was embarrassing that I showed off her work that much, but I was really proud of her. She recently went through a divorce. It didn't affect me much, since my dad was never really involved in our family life anyway, but I could tell it took a toll on her. She was still in love with the man she first met. But he had changed. The good thing was, though, that she had changed too. In a good way, I mean. She grew stronger as a person, and was able to learn to fight for herself. And for me.
I heard my mother singing in the kitchen. I had always had a pretty good voice, but it was obvious that I hadn't inherited it from her. Not that she was bad, but, well, yeah, it wasn't good. I swung around the banister, and almost fell at the bottom, but caught myself on the railing. My mom heard.
"Angela...watch yourself. You don't want a broken leg on your first day of school." She had her smug voice on. Whatever. It actually wasn't the first of school. For everyone else at school, it was the second. But I got the first day off so I could collect my thoughts and such. My plan was pretty basic though: Go, don't die, leave. When I say 'don't die' though, it involves quite a few things. First, because of my extreme lack of balance, that meant I should try not to make a fool of myself by falling down the stairs at school or anything like that. Second, I was awkward around guys. I didn't talk to guys, and they didn't talk to me. That's just how it went. So, basically, don't die by making a fool out yourself by stuttering when a guy approaches you. And third, do not, by ANY means, start to subconsciously sing at school. It was a bad habit that had developed over the summer break. While we were moving, and the divorce was finally ending, I could only escape through music. It had turned subconscious, the way I had randomly started singing in the middle of a public place, and I hadn't even realized I was singing until my mom shot me warning glances. You know the ones. Stop, you're embarrassing me, and its rude to sing in public. Yeah...I got those a lot.
By now I was sitting at the kitchen table and eating some Cheerios. Mom was still singing softly. Not ugly, no. Soothing, in a weird way.
I was torn out of my thoughts and my review of my 'don't die' plan by my mother. "You do realize that you are 5 minutes late, right?" Oh gee, thanks for the advanced warning mom. Whatever. I ran to go brush my teeth, and I grabbed my school bag. Tearing the keys off of the hanger, I headed out to the car, and started the ignition. My music came blasting through the speakers. I laughed. I guess I was having too much fun last night before my new life at school. My mom poked her head out of the front door and gave me the look. The other one. The one that says, you are so weird. She smirked, and then waved at me, and mouthing to her that I loved her, I headed for school.
I reached the school in 5 minutes. It wasn't very far to go. I could walk the distance, but that would undo my multi-layered deodorant, and I didn't want that. Besides, I already knew that all the other seniors would drive their cars to school. I parked, and got out of my car. I walked along the sidewalk until I reached the entrance gate to the school. Okay, you can do this. Just, don't freak. And don't die.
I scanned the crowd outside. In the grass, were the druggies, as I expected, and on the sidewalks, were the skaters and punks skateboarding around, occasionally falling down on their butts. I had to hold back a smirk. I didn't want the people here to look at me and immediately think I thought I was better than them. Like that would ever happen. Except, maybe, for the druggies. Oh, and of course, lounging around on the stairway, were the elite. I had heard about them. The pretty snobs and the jocks. My heart tore in half when I saw them, and made myself look away. I turned away from them, and headed up the stairs to go into the school office.
And then I was on the ground. I jumped up and put myself in a casual, but still alert, fighting stance.
"Woah! Sorry there. Didn't see you. Don't kill me or anything, it was an accident." I relaxed a little. It was one of those skaters. He must have hit me from behind while riding his skateboard. I sighed. New schools put me on edge. Plus, mom made me sign up for self defense classes over the summer. I didn't get a great look at him, because the sun was extra bright today. From all I could see, he was just a tall shadow blocking out a portion of it. I nodded, and walked away.
"You got a name?" He shouted after me. I remembered that normal people with some sort of social life generally exchanged these things.
"Yeah. It's Angela." I turned around briefly to answer him, and then headed on into the building. I heard his skateboard start to roll on the ground again, and I sighed. Better not to be late on my first day. I looked down at my school map I had been holding. The office was right in front. I went into it, and talked to Mrs. Shield. A quite unfriendly secretary, if you ask me. But then, who was I to talk? Oh yeah, I didn't. I got my schedule from her and studied it for a while, and then highlighted where my classes were on the school map.
Homeroom: Room 221.
AP Art History: Room 112
AP French 4: Room 201
Biology: Room 312
Math: Room 214
AP Music: Room 115
Honors English 4: Room 216
I loved music and art (because of my mother), as well as history, so I chose to take advanced classes in those subjects. It would look good on my college transcripts. Since I didn't have much of a social life, I had lots of time to spend on school. I was pretty good in everything, except for math and science. Go figure. I headed for the second floor, which was where my homeroom was and scanned the top of the doors for numbers. Room 224, 223, 222, and 221. There it was. I opened the door, and stepped inside.
Great. Everyone else was already seated. The teacher was reading something off of a list, and I heard my name. I watched as the teacher looked around the room for me.
"Angela Sword? Is there an Angela Sword in the room?" Her voice cracked as she said my name for the third time, and the room broke into a unanimous laugh. I couldn't help but laugh along. Then I heard his voice again.
"I think she's right there, Ms. Harp." It was the same person from the parking lot who almost killed me. Okay, well, he didn't nearly kill me, but hey, it was my first day. I deserve a few chances to over-exaggerate. Anyway, he totally was pointing at my place by the door. Wait, that means he remembered my name! But then, I suppose if you almost kill someone with your skateboard, you ought to be able to remember their name. I know, I know, quit it with the exaggerations. Whatever. I think that word was kind of becoming my new motto. Whatever.
I realized the whole class was staring at me, while the teacher shuffled around her desk to reach me. She was shorter than me. And that's saying a lot. You know, considering my height and everything. But then, she must have been like 90 or something. Okay, well, not that old, but she was getting there.
"Ah, Miss Sword! You are new this year, yes? Well, don't just stand there, introduce yourself to the class." Crap. By now everyone was watching me blush holes in my cheeks. Including the guy from this morning. And I didn't know his name. Since I'm so socially incompetent and didn't ask for it. Like normal people do. What is normal, anyway? Whatever. Oh, yeah, I was supposed to be introducing myself. At least over the past year at self-defense classes I had gotten over my fear of speaking in front of people.
"Um, hi. I'm Angela. I moved here from Los Angeles. I'm new…" Geez. I'm new? Way to be obvious. I was so awkward. Some of the people in the back smirked, and I blushed even more furiously.
"That's great dear. Just go sit in that seat behind Adam. He'll show you around this first week, to give you a nice new experience." Great. Maybe he can finish me off with his skateboard later. Except for the fact that when I went to find my seat, I got to look at him. In good light, since this morning I couldn't really see his face. He was g-o-r-g-o-u-e-s! Not even kidding! I mean, it should be an honor that I sit behind him, let him walk me around school, even get run over by him! I realized I probably looked like a gaping freak, so I tried to act natural. Good luck, I know.
"So, um, yeah, you're Adam right?" Suave. Very suave. Especially when a bimbo blonde totally "tripped" and fell into his lap. Which, you know, I wouldn't mind falling into.
Wait. Did he have a girlfriend? Just my luck. Huh. But then he totally pushed her off of him. Seriously. Like, we're talking shoving a girl off of your lap kind of thing.
"Geez, Ashley, get a freaking life, seriously!" and she just stuck her tongue out at him and walked off. Maybe I was seeing things. Scratch that, maybe I was hearing things, because I think he just said something to me. Which should make sense, since I just spoke to him. In an awkward, weird kind of way. Whatever. I should probably listen.
"Sorry. That's Ashley. She's my sister's slut of a friend. Not even in this homeroom, actually. I wonder how she got past Ms. Harp. Anyway, hey, sorry about this morning. I didn't see you. The sun was really bright, and I tripped when I was doing my turn. Those are pretty tricky. I've been working on my 360's all summer but, oh. You probably don't care about skateboarding that much. Especially since I gave you that nasty bruise." Wow, he was so, natural at talking. Like, he talked a lot. Naturally. Weird. Wait. WHAT! A bruise? I felt around my forehead frantically, and must have looked really stupid because he started laughing.
"Hey, only kidding. You don't have a bruise. Not from anywhere I can see anyway." That made him smirk. Ha ha. Woah. From where he could see? What was this place? Perv central! Oh, wait. High school. Just kidding.
"Oh. Right. Sorry. First day jitters, I guess. So, um, you go here?" Oh. My. Goodness. Did I really just ask that? Does he GO here! I'm mental. I am, I really, really am, and no one has told me about. I am going to have to speak to my mother about this.
And then of course, all of these other guys start laughing. Behind me and Adam. Wearing their skateboarding gear. They were probably his gang, or something like that. That would be interesting. To be in a gang, I mean.
"Um, yeah, I go here. You okay? Maybe I hit you too hard." He was laughing too. But not in the "she's so stupid I'm going to laugh right in her face way." It was in more of a "she's so shy, I'm going to make her laugh so she feels better way." Aw. Wait. I don't need his pity! Okay, maybe I do, but I won't admit that. Except that I just did. Whatever. I smiled at him, to try and make it seem like I wasn't completely insane.
"So, I'm Adam, this," he patted a guy behind him on the shoulder, "is Josh. That's Emma, Harrison, and Spot." He pointed to each of them in turn. "Spot isn't his real name, but he landed a real bad flip once, and got this huge bruise that covered half his face. It looked like a spot you would see on a dog, so we've called him that ever since. Emma is my sister, and Josh, Harrison, and Spot are pretty much my brothers. Cross them, and I will hurt you." He looked at me with a glare on his face for half a second, and then burst out laughing again. He was joking. Good. I was freaking out for that half a second there. Still was after that, actually. Well, I was really happy that Emma was his sister. She was like, amazingly pretty. And I did not want competition. Oh my goodness. What was wrong with me? Competition for Adam? It wasn't like he would consider me, and even if he did, I wouldn't be able to match up to Emma. But I thought that Adam said his sister had a slutty friend. Confusing. They didn't strike me as the type of people to hand out with bimbos.
Apparently, Adam knew what I was thinking. "I have two sisters. Emma is the cool one. My other one is Monica. She's friends with that Ashley chick."
"Hah, like I would ever hang out with Monica's crowd. That hurts Angela. A lot." She pretended to cry, and smiled and then held out her hand. "Put it there, sister. You look pretty cool. Hang out with us, and you won't get stuck with them." She pointed over at the popular group, who were handing around bottles. No doubt alcohol.
I liked Emma. She seemed pretty decent. Maybe I should get to know her better. But maybe I should just keep to myself. That seemed to be a better way to protect myself. Of course, mom always said it just hurt me more.
I shook her hand, and pulled my hand back quickly. It was weird, like some sort of electric shock or something. But then, maybe that was just because of her skateboarding and stuff. She looked surprised as well, and passed along a look at her brother and raised an eyebrow. Well, I don't know about people in Florida, but things like that happened a lot where I was from. Maybe Floridians are just different like that. Whatever.
The bell rang, and everyone started to stand up, which I supposed meant that it was time for first period. I had AP Art History first. I asked Adam if he had that class, and he gave me a really weird look.
"Your taking AP Art History. Man, don't you have like a life or anything? Art History is hard as it is. And AP course? That's harsh. Nah, I don't wouldn't go near that class. I would have to have at least 5 cups of coffee if I wanted to keep up in that class. You must be a genius or something, right?" He was rambling. He does that a lot, I noticed.
"Um, no, I mean, I just, um, have a lot of time to study." I sighed. It was a little overbearing to be around Adam. He just talked so much. I would have to find my class on my own.
So that was Chapter 1. Sorry it was a little short, chapter two might be as well, but with your help, I can make god revisions! Reviews are GREATLY appreciated! Thanks, guys! -Ang.