Cassandra The African Girl (COMPLETE) (EDITED)

Chapter 8

When we arrived at the school, I was astonished. "Woah! This is where you go to school?" I asked, my voice tinged with amazement.

"No, this is where I go to party," Lin said sarcastically.

I rolled my eyes at her and took in the sight before me. It was magnificent - the campus was expansive, surrounded by a lush green garden, bustling with numerous students, and topped off with the proud display of the United States flag atop the building. Such a show-off. I was pleasantly surprised to see quite a few black students; I had expected to be the only one.

"Lin!" called out two blonde girls.

"Go to the principal's office, get your details registered, go to your class, and we'll meet at lunch. Bye," she said, then dashed off to join them, leaving me standing alone.

"Where is the principal's off..." Ugh! She's gone. As I scratched my head, trying to locate the principal's office, I felt a hand hit my backside. Whirling around to confront the culprit, I saw a boy smirking at me, and that infuriated me.

"What do you think you're doing?" I asked, my voice seething with anger.

"You got some white in you?" he asked, biting his lower lip.

"No," I said, annoyed.

"You want some?" he said, advancing towards me.

I slowly stepped back and collided with another guy. He turned around, revealing the most captivating brown eyes and adorable dark hair. "Leave her alone, Dustin," said the boy. With that, Dustin retreated, leaving me speechless. I struggled to contain my smile but couldn't help blushing. There were plenty of cute boys in this school, but I'd definitely label this one as 'Hotshot.'

"Thanks," I said.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Yeah, and could you show me where the principal's office is?"

"Are you new?"

"Yes, and I really need to get to the-"

"Uh, who are you, and why are you talking to my boyfriend?" interrupted a girl with an odd voice.

"Excuse me?" I asked, bewildered.

"You will not be excused. Now, tell me why you were talking to my boyfriend," she said, her voice filled with rage, for reasons unknown to me.

"Come on, babe, she was just looking for the principal's office," said Hotshot.

"Oh, so you're new. Better watch your back, short stack, or you might just get squashed in this big school," she threatened. "There, over there, that's the principal's office. Now, shoo!" she shouted, and I ran like crazy, not even sure where I was going and bumping into people.

Geez! What's her problem? Just because she wears cute makeup, beautiful clothes, has the most fashionable handbag, a cute boyfriend, and is well-spoken doesn't mean she's cool. Well, it does, but it doesn't mean she has to be mean to other people.

"Can I come in?" I asked, knocking on the door.

"Ah! You must be Cassandra. Come in, come in," said the middle-aged man with glasses. "I am your principal, Mr. Welch, and not to waste time, I will quickly need to put your details in this register." This took about seven minutes, and then he handed me a list of all the classes I had to attend for the day. "Your class is 11B. Looks like you are attending English, and you better hurry; your teacher hates tardiness. Welcome to Vernon High School; we are so happy to have you here," he said politely. I smiled and nodded, then set off to find my way around.

I was accustomed to being escorted by the principal to my classroom, but this was America, and you've got to do what you've got to do to survive. If you snooze, you lose. I anxiously made my way through the halls, which were quiet and empty; nobody was there because classes had already started.

I knocked on the door of classroom 11B, and a lady shouted, "Come in!"

"Hi, are you Mrs. Santiago, and is this English class?" I asked. All eyes turned to look at me, and it felt strange, but I was getting used to it.

"I am, it is, and you are late," she said, and people chuckled softly.

"Sorry, I was caught up in registration," I said.

"Well, since you are new, I'll let this one slide," she snapped. "Everyone, this is Cassandra Benson; she is a transfer student from Africa. Be nice to her, and just don't be yourselves," she introduced me.

People started sniggering and looking at me as if I were some newly discovered virus or something. I guess this is how they look at new students? I grabbed a chair near some girl covering her face.

"Hi, what's your name?" I asked.

"Shut up!" she said. Wait a minute, that voice sounds familiar.

"Lin! What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question," she whispered.

"Well, I didn't know that-"

"Is what you are saying more important than my teaching, Miss Benson?" interrupted Mrs. Santiago.

"Uh...what, no sorry, yes, I mean sorry, ma'am," I said.

"Yes, I think it would be better for us both if you would raise your hand before opening your mouth in my class."

Okay lady geez.