Tiffany stood outside the brooding doors of Lawndale High. Her long black hair blowing softly in the wind. The average person would have been nervous about entering a new school, but Tiffany wasn't. She was beyond ready to engage in making new friends and hopefully seeing her old friends from middle school again. Taking care not to enter with distressed make-up, she pulled a compact from her purse and checked her face, just to make sure she was perfect. Perfect. She thought to herself as she put the compact back into her purse. I've missed school...
Walking into the school, Tiffany took in the familiar sounds and smells of a typical school. Students hustled and bustled about as teachers moved swiftly through the halls avoiding the traffic at all costs. Glancing at all the students she saw, Tiffany attempted to scope out her friends from middle school and ask them exactly what's been going on and why they had ditched her but-
Her thoughts were interrupted when she bumped into a familiar man in a pink shirt. Lost in a quick daze Tiffany glanced upwards to see it was Mr. O'Neill, who had come to her house a few nights before. "Oh, Tiffany." He spoke with his overly gentle voice, "I'm glad to see you've come here. I was worried that you wouldn't make it."
Blinking a few times, Tiffany regained her composure and noted in her mind that she'd have to check her make-up again, in case any of it got smeared when she ran into O'Neill.
"I have your schedule and everything in the office with the school psychologist." He continued, "She's very nice, Tiffany. Oh but please don't be scared to meet the principal either. Ms. Li is a very nice woman. I think you and her might find you have some things in common."
Tiffany listened, taking in everything he was saying while remaining silent. This was all cool that she would have to meet with the principal and stuff... after all she was coming into the semester a few weeks late... but why the psychologist? Maybe they'd explain why everyone's been so weird to her. Common? She thought when she heard O'Neill mention something about what her and the principal would have in common, Does she dress really well too? The principal at our old school wore really ugly ties...
Tiffany sat patiently in Ms. Li's office, awaiting the moment where she would meet her new school principal. She hoped the principal would break the mold of typical principals at school by actually dressing well and not being too eccentric about it.
"Oh, this is so exciting, Tiffany..." O'Neill put his hand on her shoulder and smiled, "You'll be able to be treated like a normal student here! No one will even know you have well... 'special' problems." When he spoke he took his hand off her shoulder and put the word 'special' in air quotes.
Tiffany felt the urge to speak up and began to collect her thoughts into rational notes to tell the teacher that she didn't have any special problems, unless he was talking about her special skills of applying make-up. "No..." Tiffany spoke up a bit, ready to explain that she didn't have 'special problems.' "Problems." Pausing she tried to figure out what to say, becoming more and more nervous as she spoke, her words slurring more. "Speciaallllll..." The last word droned on making her feel stupider than she had felt since she claimed the doctor had periods.
Mr. O'Neill looked at the student with tool like care in his eyes, "Right. Tiffany, I know you're going through a tough time now... 'adjusting'..." He did the air quotes things again. As if the girl didn't understand INFLECTION... something he also did when he said those words.
"Alright, alright..." A slightly heavyset, middle-aged Asian woman came in, sitting down at the desk, "Ah. Our new student in question." Picking up some papers, she began to search through them.
Following behind her, a thin woman with brown hair and a nearly disgusted look came into the room and stood behind the desk. Her white doctor lab coat probably had to do with medicine so Tiffany immediately assumed she had to be the psychologist but... She looked at the woman at the desk and shuddered. What could I have in common with her? Tiffany would have shuddered, if she could, but instead just continued to eye the newcomer, Ew... Pantsuit...
The psychologist stood quietly in the background as Ms. Li began to speak, "So, Tiffany Blum-Deckler. I've heard many things about you. Your teachers on your schedule are all well aware of your condition and we are all ready, willing, and able to help you in your struggle.
"Whaat?" Tiffany commented in confusion. Condition? She thought, staring in silence at the principal still confounded about what was going on.
Principal Li nodded, staring at the papers, glanced at the school psychologist. "Mrs. Manson, do you have any other things you'd like to add?" After all, she was being paid from the school budget.. Can't forget Mrs. Manson and her lack-there-of helping the student population.
"No." Manson commented, removing a piece of paper from her jacket and crumbling it up, tossing it in the trash bin. It wasn't that important. Just something to do with weekly meetings to the school psychologist for Tiffany.
Tiffany looked at Ms. Li again before finally understanding what Mr. O'Neill had meant by 'something in common.' Race? Tiffany remained silent, as saying anything more would just make things really confusing for both her and everyone else. What's that have to do with anything?
Ms. Li nodded, "Very well then." She looked at Mr. O'Neill, "According to the schedule then, your plan period is almost over and she's in your class next period. So get out there and show Tiffany the true spirit of Lawndale High!"
Tiffany sat in the front of the classroom like she'd always had done back in middle school. A great location to show she gave a damn about her grades and a great place to sit so the boys who were going to the back of the room could see her. Having gotten to class earlier than the other students, she was able to watch as more students came in, hoping some cute boys would notice her while she sat there, looking in her compact and adjusting her blush. Attention. Looks. Ahh, this is what she was waiting for, the true factor of high school. She was beyond ready to just scream and shout at the joy that was building up in the back of her head.
"That's why we should probably go with that girl in 2nd period." A deep, almost snotty feminine voice said as it passed through the room and to the back, "Her style could totally use some major work but that is fixable to say the least."
Nodding, a girl with pigtails followed behind her voice with a notepad, scrambling to write down every word that was being said, "Didn't she have braces though?"
"Ew. Right. Braces." The voices stopped in the back of the room.
Mr. O'Neill stood anxiously in the front of the room with an impatient look on his face. His eyes were full of life as he glanced over and over at the students in his room, as if about to leap out of his skin at the announcement of a new student in the room. He was thrilled. Thrilled beyond all thrill. "Class." The pink shirted man spoke, nearly bursting from his seams, while trying to contain himself in the calmest manner he could, "Before we start class today, I would like to welcome a new student to our class, and actually the school!"
Tiffany had still been looking at her compact, finding that she had a harder time multi-tasking than she had used to. The voice of the teacher hadn't even phased her yet. I should probably pluck my eyebrows tonight... She stared at them in the compact some more and glanced upwards when she heard the bell ring again. Blinking she put the compact away and stared at the teacher, wondering when he was going to start talking.
"Tiffany." He said, motioning towards he girl, "Would you like to say 'Hello' to the class?" In O'Neill's mind this was a great gesture. Great way for the teacher to get to know the student, student to know the other students, and teacher to see how the students would react to the new student. "It's okay, Tiffany."
Tiffany stood up. The old Tiffany would have probably darted up in front and introduced herself like the hyperactive soul she was but now she just walked up slowly and stared outwards at the class. She squeezed the handle of her purse a bit and stared at them. They stared back. Do I say something?
O'Neill smiled to the class, "This is Tiffany Blum-Deckler." He smiled with joy as he patted the girl on the back, "She will be joining us from here on out!"
"Hmm..." A familiar voice whispered in the back of the room, "That girl might do."
The pig-tailed girl nodded frantically and wrote that down too, "Sandi, she hasn't said anything yet. Do you think she's shy or something?"
"Stacy..." Sandi commented, "Don't be foolish. Someone that pretty can't be shy."
Stacy jotted that down too and looked at the Asian girl up front, "She is pretty, Sandi... She would make a great addition to our club."
Smiling, Sandi double-checked the girl, "We will talk to her after class and see if she is a suitable candidate."
O'Neill nudged the back of the girl. "If you're nervous Tiffany, you can sit down... but at least say Hi to the class..." For being a caring and understanding teacher, he certainly was not caring or understanding.
It's not that she was nervous. She just couldn't say it. Every time she tried to form a sentence, it felt lost. She tried over and over again to say something. Say something. She glanced at the students.
The students glanced at the girl in confusion. O'Neill began to stare at her in a nervous panic. Sandi and Stacy continued to watch with utmost interest.
"Hello..." She droned. Droned. Agh. She wanted to run off into a corner, but what could she do. No. She had to stay. Backing down would be pathetic. Standing up there she nodded, smiling softly to the teacher and students the best she could, trying to hide the feeling of agony that laid in the back of her throat.
With that, Tiffany sat down and Mr. O'Neill began his class, nervously praying in the back of his mind he didn't embarrass her.
Tiffany sat in class quietly trying as hard as she could to pay attention but found it to be more of a struggle than anything she had ever thought of. The words on the paper seemed to get into her head but once it was time to write out her own copy in her notebook, she felt as if her hand was frozen. Her writing was messy and labored, not at all like it was before the accident. How hard was it to copy sentences?
The rest of the class took their notes from the book as told while O'Neill watched the class, "Oh, Tiffany." He said as he looked to the struggling student. "You know..." He came up closer to her and whispered in her ear. "I've written some notes for you." He smiled, "Didn't they tell you, you're excused from taking notes?"
"Really...?" She asked quietly, looking at the students around her. She had always taken notes in school, that was a key way to memorize information.
O'Neill smiled, "Just don't tell the other students, they might get jealous."
No matter how hard it was for her, Tiffany continued to take notes. This was High School, not grade school. Everything that happened here would effect her future in college.
She continued to do her work, despite failing terribly at it. The bell rang and in a bit of frustration, Tiffany collected her things.
"Hey." A familiar voice said from behind her, "Do you have a minute, Tiffany?" It was Sandi from the back of the room.
Her pig-tailed friend stood nervously beside her, holding a pen and notebook as if about to start writing something at anytime. "We want to know if..."
"Stacy!" Sandi interrupted, "As president of the Fashion Club, I should be the one to ask any new members to join." She adjusted her hair a bit, "Hello. I am Sandi Griffin, president of Lawndale High's newly established Fashion Club."
Tiffany stared at the two girls in complete and utter shock. She knew she still had the popularity vibe, fashionista appearance, and all around beauty to become a member of any club she'd want. She looked at the two girls and nodded, though not prepared yet to talk.
"We are looking for members and we think you would be like, the perfect candidate to try-out for our very strict policy." Sandi smiled, "Stacy, the list please?"
Stacy filed through the notebook and pulled out a small slip of paper. "Number one... Does she attend Lawndale High?"
Tiffany blinked. Obviously she just started here. She looked at the club's president, "Yes." That came out easier than she expected. Though it was nothing close to what she would have liked to say.
"Number two... Stubby Fingertips?" Stacy continued to read off the list and Sandi checked Tiffany for the proper outward appearance checks.
Is all this really necessary? Tiffany thought to herself while looking at the other two girls, They're really pretty but isn't fashion more about clothes and style than looks? She looked at the girls. The one without pigtails felt pretty imposing and actually almost terrifying and the girl with pig-tails seemed to be scared of her.
"Alright, Tiffany. We have one last question for you before Stacy and I decide if you are good enough to be in our Fashion Club." Sandi grinned, "Why do you want to be in the fashion club?"
Didn't you ask me if I wanted to be in it? She looked at both girls and prepared herself to say her next sentence. She had been getting a bit better at talking through the day so maybe, just maybe she was better by now. "Well..." She slurred.
"..." Sandi raised an eyebrow, "Well?"
Tiffany stared and looked at both girls, "I..."
"Maybe she doesn't speak English that well." Stacy commented quickly to Sandi. When she said that she had the best intent to defend Tiffany but it came out sort of mean, "I mean..."
Sandi glared at Stacy then looked back at Tiffany, "Well, I...?" Her patience was drawing to an end... but luckily the bell rang before Tiffany could even get a chance to finish her statement, "We will continue this after school, Tiffany." Sandi said, "Please have an answer by then."
The two girls left quickly. She couldn't be late to her next class already. Not now. The comment about 'not speaking English that well.' didn't even have a chance to phase her as she walked out the door and into the hallway towards her next class. Hopefully Mr. De'Martino wouldn't yell at her for being tardy on her first day.
The hallway seemed nearly empty as she traveled down the hallway towards her history class. Her mind geared only on that until a familiar voice interrupted her thoughts completely.
"Tiffany?"