Chapter 3

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"Sang! Marie! It's time to go," my dad yells, from the bottom of the stairway

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"Sang! Marie! It's time to go," my dad yells, from the bottom of the stairway.

He and my mom argued this morning, and she banished him to the downstairs. I wish I was joking, but I'm not.

I quickly grab my bag, making sure the notes I made are inside it, and make my way down to the car.

It's registration day today, and I'm nervous.

I can't count on Marie to be my friend—not that she would even if our parents forced her to—and I don't do well with strangers. At all.

At my old school, I was ignored. Nobody talked to me, bugged me or even bullied me. It was like I didn't exist. I would go in, do my schoolwork, and come home without even needing to speak. It was the perfect arrangement.

Marie was popular and had lots of friends, always being invited to parties and to hang out. She loved it.

We're very different and it's never bothered me.

But now... well, everything has changed now.

"You look ridiculous," Marie snaps, climbing into the front seat.

"I do?" I ask, glancing down at my outfit.

I'm wearing what I normally wear for school—a blouse, a skirt and some flats. It's a little warmer here so I didn't bother with a jacket.

Would that really make this much difference?

"Why the hell do you have a notebook with you?" She scoffs, looking at her phone as it beeps before dismissing it and turning back to me. "You look new."

"I am new," I reply quietly.

She rolls her eyes, and I can see she has more to say but our dad gets in the car and she falls silent. Taking another look at my outfit, I sigh. I don't know whether she was just trying to rattle me—something my sister takes pleasure in—or if Charleston is different to Illinois and what I'm wearing doesn't fit. I used to wear this to school all of the time, and she never commented.

We pull up to the new school, and my dad drives around the busy parking lot to find somewhere to park. It gives me a good look at my new school.

It looks a little worse for wear, and I'm hoping that it's better on the inside. It looks about the same size as my old school, but it's so much more... ugly.

The building is two stories, brown, drab, and no windows except for a handful along the second floor. The grounds are flat, with only a few trees standing along the border of the grounds. Square hedges have grown along the outside walls between sets of doors. The hedges looked like they needed to be watered three months ago, but they're not fully dead yet.

There's a football practice area off to the left, a baseball diamond and some tennis courts just beyond it. But they're all well-worn with holes in the mesh guards, and the benches where people sit, are warped and rusted.

None of the areas are well-maintained.

Beyond that, I can see that there are trailers for the overfilled classes. I can count at least thirty and they extend pretty far out from the main school building.

 I've got no idea how I'm meant to get from one of the further ones to a class in the main building without being ridiculously late. I'm getting anxious just thinking about it.

"Have you got your classes picked out?" my dad asks as he parks the car.

"Yeah," Marie says, already climbing out of the car.

I know she's lying, and I have no doubt he does too, but he doesn't call her on it.

"Good. Go get your sheets filled out, and meet back at the car as soon as. I've got calls to make. Don't take ages, I've got things to do today."

We both nod, and Marie rushes off without waiting for me. I sigh, as I slowly enter the crowd of people and let them lead me through to the hall.

None of the other students seemed particularly interested in me. Most were concerned with either getting in line or finding old school friends to talk to.

I join the line for sophomores and cringe when almost immediately an arm is slung over my shoulder.

This staying invisible thing is not going to plan.

"Well hello," a boy says, and I lean away from him. He smells like smoke, and his breath is rancid. I give a polite smile, as I try to edge out from underneath his arm but he just tightens his grip and holds me in place. "What's your name?"

"Sang," I whisper.

"Song?" he asks, before laughing and shaking his head. His obnoxious behaviour draws attention my way, and I don't like all the eyes on us.

"That's a stupid name. I'm Greg."

"My name is Sang," I repeat, and he just shrugs before tightening his grip on me. "So—"

"Greg," someone yells, and to my relief, he drops his arm from my shoulders and gives a big wave to the guy.

"Got to go, babe. See you soon, Sing Song," he says, before stalking away.

I sigh in relief when I notice him leaving the room with the boy that called for him, and pray that we don't cross paths again. I make eye contact with Marie, and she's glaring at me. Great.

The queue takes a while before I make it to the front, and the woman isn't very nice. She's a school counsellor who is trying to help me line up my classes.

I showed her my list and she tried to tell me three AP classes were too much. I insisted it was fine but she wouldn't listen. She gave me AP English and AP Geometry. After that, she wrote down gym class, a typing class, without asking me, and the general biology class, and then wrote down American history.

"I think I prefer world history," I say. "I've already done American history."

"World history is an AP class. You can only have two."

There was nothing about this in the handbook, and I feel completely lost with the argument.

This wasn't the lineup I really wanted. I don't like that she's changed it.

I had seven choices lined up, and I only got placed in two of them. I'm frustrated and worried, but she dismisses me as soon as she's written art in the last box.

"Where do I take this?" I ask hesitantly.

"Get it signed by a parent, and then take it over there," she commands, gesturing vaguely to somewhere, and I nod before moving out of the line because she's already talking to the next person.

I make my way back to the car, and my dad signs without reading it and I head back inside to figure out my next steps.

I want nothing more than to be home right now, away from this new place.

I wish I was still in Illinois.

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