An: Hey! Looking for a beta! If you're interested, hit me up! Please, because if it wasn't for auto correct and Grammarly, I'd be screwed!

If you recognize it, It's not mine. Fitzgerald owns all things Gatsby.

"Make new friends, but keep the old;

Those Are sliver, these are gold."

~Josph Parry

Montana, 1907, One week later.

"Oh my God," I muttered as I looked at the school in front of me. It was a lot nicer than the school back in North Dakota. My hands shook as I walked into the building. High school. Very few girls make it to high school. Most of them get basic education and become housewives or maids or cooks and go to finishing school. Not Me. I've decided that want to go into the medical field. I am more than prepared. I am eager and ready to keep moving up towards my goals, and achieving them. The hallways were busy with students preparing to get ready for the day. I ran my hands through my hair nervously as I stopped at the receptionist's desk. She was an older woman who had her hair in a ponytail and glasses that rested on the bridge of her nose. She looked to be in her Mid-'60s and mild wrinkles scattered across her face.

"Hello," I said as I walked up to her.

"Hi," She said bitterly. It caught me off guard that she was so rude, how dare she! Quelling the anger that rose inside of me, I smiled and shook it off, like the well educated, young lady I am.

"I'm Anne Dawson, I am new and need my schedule," I stated. She passes me a paper. It had my classes, locker number, and it's combination. I nodded in thanks and turned around, knocking into someone in the process.

"Oof!" I exclaimed as I felt the collision. I steadied myself and looked up at the person I bumped into.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry about that!" The person said.

He had fair skin and was slightly taller than I. His brunette hair combed back professionally, notebook in his hand and a bag around his shoulder.

"Oh, It not a problem! Not at all!" I said with a small smile. He had some kind, expressive eyes; kinda like James. But his were green.

"Do you need any help with anything?" He asked.

"Erm, yes actually. Can you help me look for my locker?"

"Absolutely."

"So, what is your name?"

"Anne Dawson, and You?"

"Nicolas Carraway."

We found my locker and I opened it. I put my coat and bag inside of it. I pulled out a photo of me and James. It was taken sometime last year. I taped it onto the inside of my locker. It was a photo of me and James before the school spring formal. James was making A crazy face, and I was laughing.

"May I ask the story behind this picture?" Nick inquired.

I smiled and looked at the picture.

North Dakota, 1906

I sat in my vanity as my mother brushed my hair, pinning up my hair, and putting me in a pretty, floral print dress. She gave me her earrings and a nice necklace. There was a knock on the door from downstairs, I heard my father and James laughing as I came down the steps. I walked into the living room, and James stood there in shock. His hair pulled back and In the nicest suite, I have ever seen him wear. He smiled and so did I, and both of our cheeks colored a bright red. He held up, what I thought was a bouquet of flowers, but he walked up to me and places it on my head.

"Here you go, flower."

I looked down at his other hand that rose to his head. He made an identical one and put it on his head. I laughed, hard.

"You look Ridiculous!" I said falling apart. To humor me, he made funny faces, which made me almost start crying from laughing too hard.

"Hey, you two get outside so we can get a photograph of you!" Mother yells. We went outside sand stood were the camera was and smiled, and James tried not to laugh.

Snap!

"That one's a keeper!" my father exclaimed.

"Then, my mother asked if he was talking about the picture or about James!" I said while Nick was bubbling with laughter.

"He seems like a great friend."

"He is," I whispered as I stared at the picture fondly.

The bell rang and Nick escorted me to my first class of the day.

Later that night, I decided I'd write a letter to James about my first day of school. I sat at my desk and pulled out a sheet of paper, and started writing.

My Dearest James,

Today was my first day of school! At first, I was nervous, and the receptionist was so rude! But walking in the hallway, I bumped into a fellow student named Nicolas. He was nice enough to show me around, and escort me to my classes! We get along swimmingly! You would love him, Jay! He is so kind and reminded me of you a little, but he is far less optimistic. My classes were fine, but I missed you. I looked to my right when I wanted to make a funny comment, only to realize you weren't there. I miss you so much that sometimes I turn to talk to you your not here, but its getting better. At least we can still write to each other. So, how is School? Is Mrs. Walker still giving those awful homework assignments? Tell me all about it!

Your Love,

Anne

I saw the sun setting out of the window as my mother called me down for supper. I looked at the letter, knowing that one day, He wouldn't write back. We move on and grow up. Knowing Gatz, he probably has already planned his great escape out of North Dakota, and to a life of riches and wealth.

An: I would love some reviews from my lovely readers. Constructive criticism would be nice, just don't go too hard on me! I try my best, and the only way I can get better is to learn from my audience! Love you all!

~Lexi