Chapter 4

As we got to our pue, I sat down on the end next to my mom. She had an emotionless expression on her face. She was never a big God praiser. None of us were, really. I mean, we believed in God, but never went to church. A piano, started playing, and I looked up to see who was playing it. It was the same girl I ran into earlier. Her fingers ran across the white and black keys, as she stared at the sheet of music in front of her. Her shoulders were slumped down, as she made no contact with the church goers. It was sad how this girl lacked self pride.

She finished the song, and the minister walked out, clapping with a cheesy grin on his wrinkled face. "Thank you, Kelsi," he said before the girl went scurrying off the platform and to a seat next to a woman who I guessed was her mother. The middle-aged woman put a hand on Kelsi's shoulder, and told her something I couldn't make out.

I looked away suddenly realizing I was being a little creepy. I was now trying to find out what this girl was talking about, and I was acting like a complete weirdo.

The minister began talking and that's when I stopped paying attention to anyone or anything around me. I thought about what Sharpay was doing right now. It was about eleven, so she was probably just getting up, facing a hangover. Maybe that guy next to her. I can tell you one thing she definitely wasn't doing though. And that was sitting in a church, in some dorky getup, trying to ignore this minister with a deep voice and who emphasized every other word. And she wasn't sitting next to her mom, mouthing this song everyone started to sing. And she had money. And she wasn't living in a small house that belonged to some hippie. She wasn't sharing a room with her little sister that looked like a four year old designed it. No.

She wasn't in my position, and she never would be.

--

I heard myself groan as a pillow hit my head, and my sister shouted for me to get up. The door slammed shut, but sadly opened again. I was hoping for at least five more minutes.

"Gabriella," my mother's soft voice spoke. "You need to get up. It's the first day of your new school!"

Did she seriously expect me to be excited for this? "I'm sick," I mumbled, before burying my face in a pillow.

"Gabriella, you have two seconds to get up. It's not going to so bad. Get up!" Now she was angry. I swear she was bi-polar.

I yawned, rubbing my eyes, and getting out of bed. I went over to one of my still packed suitcases, looking for something to wear.

"You know you're gonna have to to unpack those eventually," my mother told me.

I shrugged. "I don't plan on staying long."

"Gabriella," she sighed. "I know this is hard, but this is where our new life is. It's very unlikely that we're going to get the money back. You need to realize that this is it. We're going to live here until we can afford to buy our own house. But that's going to be awhile."

"Whatever," I mumbled, still searching for something to wear.

"Oh!" She clapped her hands together. "Josie went out last night and bought you girls some new clothes. I'll go get them."

I don't even want to imagine my aunt's idea of clothes Dakota and I would wear willingly. Well, I don't know about Dakota; her fashion sense couldn't get much worse.

My mother walked out of the room, and came back carrying three bags with Bargain Barn written on them in sloppy black lettering. Welcome to Queers-ville, ladies and gentlemen. Population; me and my new, ugly wardrobe.

"Here," my mother handed me one of the bags, proudly. Like it was some Christmas present I've been wanting for since July.

"Thanks," I mumbled sarcastically and looked through the bag. Oh, the selections were just charming! There were a pair of jeans that looked like the ones I wore in second grade. They had rhinestones on the butt, in a flower design. I dug farther, and saw there was a matching jean vest with a collared white button down shirt. It seemed to be the only option. And, accessories? My brown paper bag lunch. Today was going to be great, and fashion forward!

--

I looked up at the brick high school surrounded by students in jeans, and tops they probably found at the local mall. Ew. I had to go here, every day for a year now? I wouldn't survive. Looking down at myself, I saw my thirty dollar jeans, and shirt that was on clearance. This was the only thing I had ever worn on sale. My life was becoming an ugly out-of-season Chanel purse, and I had to carry it. Everywhere.

I braced myself for the worst day of my life, as I walked up to the high school, and into the crowded halls. A disgusting smell filled the air, and I prayed that wasn't the lunch.

A door with the word 'office' painted in black bold letters came into view, and it was exactly what I needed to see. This school was a lot duller than my old one. The lockers here were a boring grey, and made out of metal. While, the ones at my other school were made of oak, with a shiny brown coat to them, and they were a lot bigger than these tall skinny things I had to fit all my things into.

"Uhm, this is my first day, and I need my schedule," I told the tall, lanky lady behind the counter. She had short blond hair, and a puke green sweater on, with a cheap pearl necklace.

"You're name?" she asked, walking over to a filing cabinet.

"Gabriella Montez."

Her fingers skimmed across folders, and then suddenly stopped. She pulled out a manila folder, opened it, and handed me a piece of paper. I smiled faintly, took my schedule, and went on the hunt for my locker. Two-fourteen, was the number I was looking for.

Finally, I found a row of lockers, beginning with two-hundred. I walked next to them, looking for mine. As soon as I found it, a loud beeping noise was heard through the school, the bell I figured. Lockers slammed shut, and people started walking to their homerooms. I was in no hurry. This was my first day, teachers would understand my tardiness.

Putting in my combination, I pulled the new folders out of my bag, and an unsharpened yellow pencil. I hung my plain black bag on one of the hooks, and closed it. I unfolded my schedule, and looked for room one-eighteen, my homeroom.

"Excuse me," a small girl mumbled, stopping me in the hall. "I'm new and I was wondering if you knew where Miss Miller's room was, I-"

"Nope," I rolled my eyes, and began walking down the hall.

"Thanks, anyway," I heard her muffled voice.

"Miss Miller's room?" I heard someone say behind me. I figured it was someone who overheard her question, and I kept my direction down the hall. "It's down there, and to the right." By the pitch of the voice, I could tell it was a boy.

"Oh, thank you," the girl said.

I glanced at the room numbers on the door. I was in front of one-oh-nine. The same boy who helped the girl, was now next to me. "Aren't you just a ray of sunshine?" He said sarcastically. "You don't have to be a bitch, she was just asking a simple question."

"Excuse me, but I'm not a bitch. And I'm new here too, so I simply told her no," I defended myself.

"You blew her off. You could have at least been nice about it."

"Well, sorry I'm not all peachy and nice like you," I mumbled.

"Whatever." The boy walked ahead of me in a basketball hoodie, and the name Bolton on the back. Whoever this Bolton kid was, I was not a fan of. At all.

A/N: So Troy finally makes his grand entrance! Haha. Review, please, and chapter 5 will be out this weekend!