Chapter Six
"I don't think I'm ready for this," I said sitting in front of my new school in my mom's convertible. I shook every minute the ride in. I had to do massive breathing exercises to keep from having a mental breakdown.
"Sweetie I think it's a little late for that. It won't be that bad," my mom said.
I got out of the convertible. I knew my mother was to be relocated for work when I asked to live with her. Now 1500 miles from home I was a little homesick. New York Creative Arts High School that sat in front of me had the opportunity to be my own personal heaven or my own personal Hell.
The moment I entered the building I wished I had dressed less Wisconsin-ish. I was wearing worn out blue jeans, complete with holes in both knees, and a white tee shirt. I leaned down and put my reading books in my locker. When I slung my backpack over my shoulder I looked like a complete country girl.
"Hey You," a guy's voice said behind me so I turned around to see an extremely tall Asian looking guy, "Yeah You. You knew?"
"You speak in complete sentences much?" I asked my tone dripping with my bitterness.
He laughed, "Only when people call me out on it. My name's Haruki, I'm new too this year."
"What are you in for?" I asked him. I almost didn't get into this school because you have to have an arts talent. I ended up with a music scholarship.
He scoffed, "You make it sound like we're in jail. My scholarship is for art."
I grimaced, "Yuck. I hate art," Then I saw the potential friend standing in front of me and asked, "What class do you have first hour?"
He reached into his backpack (which he had slung over his left shoulder and was so cool it made him look nothing like a hick) and pulled his schedule out.
"English," He said but he said it like someone would say weasel.
"I have English too. You don't like it?" I asked, "I don't see how that's humanly possible."
"I'm more of a Math person," Haruki said shrugging as we headed towards the English classroom.
"You see that explains so much, why didn't you say so in the first pla," I said but I stopped as I almost choked. There in front of me stood a boy with neon blue hair and his ear pierced.
"Spike?" I whispered quietly even though I knew it wasn't him.
"Who's Spike?" Haruki asked.
"I don't want to talk about it!" I snapped then as I saw his face fill with a fearful expression I added, "I'm not ready yet. I'm sorry."
He shrugged, "When you're ready to talk I'll be here I guess."
"Why are you being so nice to me?" I asked him as I took an empty desk and he sat down next to me.
"You seem like you're almost as broken as I am. I always float towards your type of person," he said.
English was the same and I had Creative Writing, Social Studies, and Photography before Lunch. Haruki wasn't in any of those and I was sure he would have other friends to eat with but he met me at my locker.
"I'm an exchange student this year," he said when I asked him if he was eating with me or some one else, "None of these kids know what to think of me."
"I think I do," I said.
"Yeah? What am I then?"
"I think you are Haruki. You are drawn to people with messed up lives, like to draw anime and you're an awesome first friend."
"Pretty much, but that's just the exterior. You don't know why I'm drawn to people like that."
"Why?"
"That's my secret. Like Spike is yours."
"You don't even know who he was."
"Was he your boyfriend?" Haruki asked but I headed towards a table. He followed.