Went to school and I was very nervous
No one knew me, no one knew me
And I find it kind of funny,
I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which I'm dying are the
Best I've ever had.
I find it hard to tell you, 'cause I find it hard to take.
When people run in circles,
It's a very, very…
Mad world.
My real name was Charlotte Costello. I was trying to be something I was not. How could I possibly do this? How could I be "Gretchen Ross"? Okay, it was a cool name, sure, but I really didn't know how to be this new person, with a slightly different hairstyle, with a new world to live in. How could I do all this? Go into a new school, with a new name, with a new identity altogether. And the worst part was, I knew nobody. I was all alone, with no one. My mother didn't understand, and my mother certainly had her own problems to sort out at the problem, all the papers to sign…no, there was no one. 'Damn my stepfather…damn him to hell.' I thought, opening the door to my REAL English classroom.
I frowned from the front of the classroom, crossing my arms awkwardly. My eyes scanned all the students who were familiar with this classroom, with this school…with this entire town. These students were all staring at me. I did not belong. The teacher didn't try and help any either; she only asked what I was doing in her classroom.
"-Yeah, they put me in the wrong English class…" I said awkwardly,
feeling like an idiot.
"You look like you belong here," Mrs. Pommeroy
said, crossing her own arms. There was a silence. A silence that in reality was
about 3 seconds. In my mind, it was four hours. Finally, I decided I'd be the
one to speak.
"…So, where do I sit?" I asked.
Mrs. Pommeroy paused, as if considering the idea, weighing the pros and cons. Finally, she tilted her head and said simply, "Sit next to the boy you think is cutest." I tried to not pale, not to let my heart beat faster, not to show that the thought of just this would scare anyone out of their wits, but of course it showed. The class began to giggle. I blushed. Mrs. Pommeroy interrupted the class with, "Quiet! …Let her choose."
My eyes awkwardly scanned the classroom once more, noticing the men now. Well, if I must choose someone, then I should probably choose someone good, but not too good. Too good makes me one of a crowd, but too bad makes me a total geek. What am I supposed to do? I looked at one guy closest to the back, winking at me and nodding, pointing to himself. 'Come sit with me,' He mouthed, winking heartily. I tried not to look too disgusted when I realized all of the boys in the classroom were making similar gestures. Mrs. Pommeroy didn't seem to notice. And then my eyes fell on the only boy who wasn't begging me to sit with him. His eyes pleaded with mine, but verbally and physically he showed nothing. He was a mysterious figure, casually looking over his shoulder, slightly wide-eyed.
I stared at him, completely oblivious to the fact that I was still standing in front of a whole class, the new girl, with the teacher asking me to sit next to the hottest guy. I couldn't figure it out; it was just his eyes, his mysterious eyes, him. Something in my mind was saying that I could not look away at any cost. I could not bring my eyes to look at anyone but him.
Mrs. Pommeroy obviously noticed, because then she looked at the girl sitting next to the boy, and said, "Joanie, get up." I breathed a sigh of relief, sitting down in Joanie's old seat, next to the lovely boy, thanking the lord that Mrs. Pommeroy had made the decision of where I should sit, and not I: as it would reveal myself to the class like an open book.
I couldn't avert my eyes from the mysterious and oh-so lovely boy. I continued to stare at him, even as I was seated. Mrs. Pommeroy stared at us, both staring at each other, and smiled to herself, a tiny smile that only I could notice. But it was also a smile that saddened me. For that second, I had looked away from the lovely. It was at that moment that I negatively wandered over the possibility that I had missed something. That I had missed him inhale, exhale, shift to his left leg instead of his right, itch his ear, glance at some other girl he was probably already interested in.
This negativity was brushed out of the way as I looked back into his endless eyes. It was as though just looking into those eyes changed me into something new. I was the positive thinker, the optimistic upbeat girl, who everyone would trust with the job to brighten his or her day. It was as though those eyes had made me…Gretchen Ross.
