Disclaimer: My favourite author, Sarah Dessen, has always inspired me, but this is neither a continuation of one of her stories nor based on her work(s).

August

Salley

Chapter 6

I, personally, hated the month of August. I hated the harsh reality of a routine and classes and homework and such. In the summer it was nice to just relax, not thinking about anyone from school: the girls that most accepted as Supreme Rulers, the guys that were total jerks and Followers, and the awful teachers that seemed to plot your demise. In the summer you didn't have to worry about any of it, and you could just be yourself. But it all changes on August 7th, the First Day of School.

Roxy, however, adored August, since it was the fall. The fall symbolized the annual musical our school performs. Musicals meant auditions, and auditions meant cast lists. And hopefully, this year's list would have Roxy's name as the star of the show. This year it might happen, too! Last year we were freshmen, but Jim never cast the leads as anyone younger than a sophomore.

Jim was the teacher of our Drama elective class and the director of all our plays and musicals. Everyone called him Jim, just because. Some of the parents didn't appreciate it, but they got over it.

Roxy was always researching desirable, high-school-appropriate plays and making lists on her laptop. She emailed them to Jim all the rime. Jim and Roxy had this drama-connection thing, unlike Roxy and our music/chorus teacher, Mr. Slate. He directed all of the actual music in the musicals. Though music was Roxy's main love, it went hand-in-hand with drama.

Music to Roxy was like breathing to anyone else. If she couldn't sing or even hear songs, she would probably go into a coma. This means that she sings all the time: in the halls, at the mall, and I heard she belted out "Do Re Mi" during a Spanish test once! No one usually stopped her though because it was just like having an iPod playing 24/7; she's amazing.

This year we kind of expected her to be the leading lady of the musical.

"Oh. My. Gosh. Shut. Up!" Roxy said, as we rounded the corner of the M building.

"Huh?" I asked Roxy, puzzled at her outburst.

"It's The King and I!" she said, or more like squeaked.

I was seriously not following.

"Who's with the king?"

"The musical, I mean!" her slender, pale index finger flew to the flyer she was staring at:

Auditions for THE KING AND I will be held in Mr. Slate's room on September 13th. To audition, please get a packet from the office. It includes your materials: a monologue, a few bars of sheet music, and a permission slip. There are many parts open! Please support the Drama Department!

"Yes, it's absolutely wonderful. But you're going to be late for first period so stop gawking and go!" I told her, pushing her away from the purple bulletin.

Roxy skipped – yeah, skipped – all the way to the end of the hall and turned left, I'm sure to talk to Mr. Slate, which would earn here a late penalty on the first day!

I went straight to first period then and started to think about Dylan. I wondered if he got taller or if his hair highlighted from the bright neon signs in Vegas or! If he had first period with me! Our assembly director told honors math students to go to classroom D-8, and I arrived there soon and sat down. I immediately began to scan the room for Dylan and pleasantly found his brown head buried in our summer reading book, desperately trying to do what he failed to do on vacation.

"Dylan!"

His ears perked up, and he lifted his head from the book. His brown, tousled hair swished when he looked up to see me. Our eyes met, and he smiled.

"Hey."

"Hey, omigosh! How was Las Vegas?" I asked. His eyes flickered for a moment... or did they?

"Oh, Vegas. Yeah, it was fine. Did you and Roxy have fun at the beach?" I thought carefully before answering, debating whether I should tell Dylan about the party or if he would freak out.

"The usual: sun, surf, and Roxy in her bikinis. She, of course, made friends, and we went to their beach party; it was a total bust."

"Really?" his expression changed to something I didn't recognize.

All of a sudden, the door opened and slammed shut as our teacher walked into the room.

"I have been asked to give you schedules and lists of supplies. The bells and period divisions will be rather flexible for today, but starting Monday, anyone who is late will serve half an hour of detention. Please review the list and be ready with everything on Monday, as well. Oh, and by the way," he started, turning to the board and writing, "my name is Charles O'Neal. That is Mr. O'Neal to you."

He handed our papers down the rows, and I turned back to Dylan and gave him my schedule. He took out a blue pen from his book bag, and he skimmed our schedules for like classes and handed it back to me.

My eyes reviewed the agenda, looking for pen marks, and found three: Honors Math, Lunch, and Art. Wow, I guess it'll be harder to keep in touch with three out of nine classes together.

"Can I see your schedule?" I asked Dylan. His schedule was like this: Honors Math, Spanish II, Honors Poetry Interpretation, Study Hall, Lunch, Intro to Physics, Art, Homeroom, and American History II.

Wonder if my best friend has any of my classes…

Roxy

Math – Geometry, I think, - Spanish II, Honors Poetry Interpretation, Chorus, Lunch, Intro to Physics, Creative Writing, Homeroom, and American History II: sophomore year might not be so bad! There's no hard math or science to deal with, and I get to take two literature classes! And, drum roll, please… Chorus!

Salley

It was lunch, which meant the First Day was half way over! As usual, I was the first at our table: the rickety, old card table in the corner of the cafeteria that had a window right by it. We got some sunlight in the winter, and we could cool off in the summer if we opened it. This was our routine: I saved the three chairs with my jacket, purse, and bookbag; I left to get my lunch and came back with my tray and drink; and then Dylan and Roxy came from their classes and sat down. Once I came back, they got their lunches and sat back down, so eventually we were all together. The system was confusing, but it worked for us.

Following our tradition, I left the table and was greeted by Roxy and Dylan when I sat back down with my plate.

"So how's the first day?" Roxy asked. We hadn't seen each other all day.

"It's okay, I suppose. It would be better if we actually had some of the same classes!"

"Well, if you would stop being 'an excellent student,' you could be in the dumb science class with me and Dylan!" she said, and I wrinkled my nose.

"Let me see your schedule," she told me. After reading through it and making the appropriate affirmative noises, she handed it back to me.

"We're in two classes together," she said, trying to sound positive.

"Roxy and I have six classes together," Dylan said, and Roxy shot him a look. Probably because she knew that wouldn't make me feel any better.

"Dylan, let's get some lunch. I'm starving!" Roxy suggested, pulling him from the table.

They came back, and lunch passed by slowly. It was weird, too. Summer was so perfect and sunny and loud and bright. Now, there was an awkward silence that loomed over the table as everyone around us caught up with their friends. The First Day, so far, was not a good way to pick up where summer had left off.

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