Part 1
Dear Diary,
I'm not sure if I'm thrilled or terrified. Moving in the middle of the school year is kind of weird, but I didn't get a choice in the arrangements.
It's not like I'd be leaving much behind, I guess. I've spend hours whishing I can be anywhere but here. To find a group I belong in, a place of my own, people who could accept me.
And now this is my chance.
Where I lived before I was always considered weird and an outcast. A loner. I didn't follow trends or fashions, or anything like that. I was my own person. Didn't get me very far up the social scale.
I pretended I didn't care, that it was what I expected. It generally didn't bother me. I knew they made fun of me, talked about me behind my back. I didn't let them get to me, those who were so wonderful and perfect.
Maybe I'd meet someone here. New town, new school, I could be different. Some gorgeous boy might notice me and I'd get the fairytale romance I'm sure most eighteen year olds dream of.
It was a nice thought. I had no idea what my new school would be like. I would be a senior, so if I didn't like there, there would only be a short while before college and I could try again.
I'm more than a little nervous. I'm getting a plague of what-ifs running through my mind. What if they're all mean? What if they laugh at me? What if I never make friends?
And so on, and so on.
There's only one way to find out.
* * *
Erica put her diary in her backpack, then changed her mind, dreading the idea of anyone finding it and reading her most private thoughts and secrets. She hit it under her mattress.
"Erica! You up?" Her mother's voice drifted up from downstairs.
"Yeah, I'll be there in a minute."
She eyed her reflection in a full-length mirror critically. Her blonde hair hung in soft curls to her shoulders, her grey eyes sparkled with suppressed hope. She was dressed in a white top with a pattern of purple and black irises and a short blue denim skirt showing off long slender legs. She hoped she looked okay. She took a deep, steadying breath, picked up her backpack and headed downstairs.
The kitchen was still a mess form breakfast. She winced at the acrid smell that met her nostrils, something had burnt.
"Hungry?" her mother asked.
Erica shook her head. "Not really." She sat at the table, toying with a fork, waiting for her mother to sort herself out and take her to school.
"This is just *evil*, forcing us to do this," Erica's younger sister Janelle complained.
Erica's eyes rolled. Of course Janelle would think it was unfair. Janelle had been the perfect, popular one, always surrounded by her weird drama and artsy friends. Even now in the blazing California sunshine she was dressed in a black turtleneck and black leather pants. Her hair should have been blonde like Erica's, only it was dyed a garish bright pink. Erica wondered how she could stand it.
"I'm sure you'll both make lots of friends right away," their mother said dismissively. "Ready? Let's go."
"What did I do to deserve this?" Janelle whined as they trudged out the door.
"Maybe it won't be so bad," Erica said, trying to be reassuring. Maybe she was just trying to comfort her own doubts.
"That's easy for *you* to say," Janelle muttered sourly. "*You* have nothing to leave behind."
Erica kept silent. Picture-perfect landscapes passed by her. Even she found herself awed at palm trees in September. Back home in Carolina it had just been regular trees all year round. It was a refreshing change to see something different.
After they had signed in at the office ad been given their schedules, Erica almost wished Janelle was in the same grade as her, so at least she'd be with someone she knew.
But Janelle had already gone and Erica found herself alone. She sighed, trudging on to her first class. Math. If things weren't already bad enough.
"Hey! Watch!"
Erica blinked, not seeing the girl with the impossibly long dark red hair until it was too late. As they collided Erica's backpack fell from her shoulder its contents scattering on the floor. Erica flashed with embarrassment. "Sorry," she muttered.
The girl didn't help Erica pick up her things. "Watch it in the future," she snapped.
Erica looked up. The girl was stunning, model-perfect, dressed in a black leather corset with lacy trimmings showing a daring amount of cleavage and a long black leather skirt, her skin was naturally marble-white. She was the type of girl Janelle had always wanted to be. She glared at Erica in annoyance before turning away in disgust, the heels of her boots clicking on the cold floor.
Erica stumbled to her feet, gathering her backpack.
"Hey - you dropped this!" a voice called.
Erica turned, not ready for another encounter with the horrible Goth girl. This girl was totally the opposite, small and delicate, tight brown curls cascading down her back. She was holding out a small white notebook with a design of daisies on the covers. "Ignore her," she said, nodding in the direction the creepy Goth girl had gone. "She's not the friendliest person in the world."
"I gathered," Erica said, taking the notebook. "Thanks."
"You're new?"
Erica nodded. "Erica Hamilton."
The girl smiled. "I'm Celeste Arlin."
Erica kicked herself mentally, wishing she could think of something to say. "I guess I'd better get to class." Could she sound any lamer?
"All right. See you round."
Erica checked her schedule again, reminding herself where she was meant to be. She was already late. Great. What else could go wrong today?
* * *
Dear Diary,
I'm not sure if I'm thrilled or terrified. Moving in the middle of the school year is kind of weird, but I didn't get a choice in the arrangements.
It's not like I'd be leaving much behind, I guess. I've spend hours whishing I can be anywhere but here. To find a group I belong in, a place of my own, people who could accept me.
And now this is my chance.
Where I lived before I was always considered weird and an outcast. A loner. I didn't follow trends or fashions, or anything like that. I was my own person. Didn't get me very far up the social scale.
I pretended I didn't care, that it was what I expected. It generally didn't bother me. I knew they made fun of me, talked about me behind my back. I didn't let them get to me, those who were so wonderful and perfect.
Maybe I'd meet someone here. New town, new school, I could be different. Some gorgeous boy might notice me and I'd get the fairytale romance I'm sure most eighteen year olds dream of.
It was a nice thought. I had no idea what my new school would be like. I would be a senior, so if I didn't like there, there would only be a short while before college and I could try again.
I'm more than a little nervous. I'm getting a plague of what-ifs running through my mind. What if they're all mean? What if they laugh at me? What if I never make friends?
And so on, and so on.
There's only one way to find out.
* * *
Erica put her diary in her backpack, then changed her mind, dreading the idea of anyone finding it and reading her most private thoughts and secrets. She hit it under her mattress.
"Erica! You up?" Her mother's voice drifted up from downstairs.
"Yeah, I'll be there in a minute."
She eyed her reflection in a full-length mirror critically. Her blonde hair hung in soft curls to her shoulders, her grey eyes sparkled with suppressed hope. She was dressed in a white top with a pattern of purple and black irises and a short blue denim skirt showing off long slender legs. She hoped she looked okay. She took a deep, steadying breath, picked up her backpack and headed downstairs.
The kitchen was still a mess form breakfast. She winced at the acrid smell that met her nostrils, something had burnt.
"Hungry?" her mother asked.
Erica shook her head. "Not really." She sat at the table, toying with a fork, waiting for her mother to sort herself out and take her to school.
"This is just *evil*, forcing us to do this," Erica's younger sister Janelle complained.
Erica's eyes rolled. Of course Janelle would think it was unfair. Janelle had been the perfect, popular one, always surrounded by her weird drama and artsy friends. Even now in the blazing California sunshine she was dressed in a black turtleneck and black leather pants. Her hair should have been blonde like Erica's, only it was dyed a garish bright pink. Erica wondered how she could stand it.
"I'm sure you'll both make lots of friends right away," their mother said dismissively. "Ready? Let's go."
"What did I do to deserve this?" Janelle whined as they trudged out the door.
"Maybe it won't be so bad," Erica said, trying to be reassuring. Maybe she was just trying to comfort her own doubts.
"That's easy for *you* to say," Janelle muttered sourly. "*You* have nothing to leave behind."
Erica kept silent. Picture-perfect landscapes passed by her. Even she found herself awed at palm trees in September. Back home in Carolina it had just been regular trees all year round. It was a refreshing change to see something different.
After they had signed in at the office ad been given their schedules, Erica almost wished Janelle was in the same grade as her, so at least she'd be with someone she knew.
But Janelle had already gone and Erica found herself alone. She sighed, trudging on to her first class. Math. If things weren't already bad enough.
"Hey! Watch!"
Erica blinked, not seeing the girl with the impossibly long dark red hair until it was too late. As they collided Erica's backpack fell from her shoulder its contents scattering on the floor. Erica flashed with embarrassment. "Sorry," she muttered.
The girl didn't help Erica pick up her things. "Watch it in the future," she snapped.
Erica looked up. The girl was stunning, model-perfect, dressed in a black leather corset with lacy trimmings showing a daring amount of cleavage and a long black leather skirt, her skin was naturally marble-white. She was the type of girl Janelle had always wanted to be. She glared at Erica in annoyance before turning away in disgust, the heels of her boots clicking on the cold floor.
Erica stumbled to her feet, gathering her backpack.
"Hey - you dropped this!" a voice called.
Erica turned, not ready for another encounter with the horrible Goth girl. This girl was totally the opposite, small and delicate, tight brown curls cascading down her back. She was holding out a small white notebook with a design of daisies on the covers. "Ignore her," she said, nodding in the direction the creepy Goth girl had gone. "She's not the friendliest person in the world."
"I gathered," Erica said, taking the notebook. "Thanks."
"You're new?"
Erica nodded. "Erica Hamilton."
The girl smiled. "I'm Celeste Arlin."
Erica kicked herself mentally, wishing she could think of something to say. "I guess I'd better get to class." Could she sound any lamer?
"All right. See you round."
Erica checked her schedule again, reminding herself where she was meant to be. She was already late. Great. What else could go wrong today?
* * *