Flipped Feelings

Chapter 1

Libby's POV:
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I slammed the rusty car door shut and dragged my sneakers across the dusty road.

"Mom, I'm gonna check out my room in the house," I yelled. Our new home looked like a small two-story house that was about to crash down. It was the same as our last home, possibly worse. We had moved to Tulsa from Detroit after my dad was killed. To help pay for the family, my mother was given the privilege of a better-paying job here.

"Aw honey, it isn't too shabby," my mom replied. "I mean, it's just as rough a neighborhood as home was, so you'll be used to it."

I opened the trunk of the car and pulled a few boxes out. Kicking it closed with my foot, I trudged over to the door, opening it with one hand. A wooden board above the door fell as I clicked it open.

"Ow!" I whined. Yeah, I'll sure get used to it alright.

My mother told me what room was mine. I walked in and set my boxes down, looking around slowly. The bedroom walls were white and there was a small bathroom connected to my room. This place isn't actually as bad as our old apartment at home. I mean, I have my own bathroom, I thought. I played around with the zipper on my leather jacket, clicking my tongue.

"Libby, come here and help me unload!" My mom yelled from outside.

"Coming!" I hollered back. After hours of setting things up around the house, I was dead tired. The heat in this town wasn't helping, either. I'm from Michigan, and for being used to frigid days most of the time, this new weather was not my cup of tea.

I took a nice, long shower and got into my pajamas. I plopped myself onto my bed and stared up at the ceiling. It was finally night, and I could hear the sound of crickets out the window.

I missed home so much. I lived on the rough streets of Detroit, and learned a lot of street toughness from that place. For being a girl, I was pretty tough. I thought about all the trouble I would get in. I pictured myself with my old friends, Sarah and Amanda. We were always goofing off, robbing gas stations and playing in the streets. I hoped it would be the same way here. I hope things will be easier for the family, too. It was just me and my mom. No dad. Groaning, I rolled over and tried to fall asleep. I probably won't have a chance of making any friends. Nobody would want to talk to a hood. I hoped that maybe I would find my own type around this new neighborhood. I couldn't just abandon what I lived like before. It came to me that I would be starting at my new school tomorrow. I probably won't have a chance of making any friends, I thought. I'm too tough, too hard. There will be no one I can find that will have the same personality. No one. I fell asleep, dreaming nothing, just thinking about tomorrow. Thinking I wouldn't find my type.

I thought wrong.

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My alarm was screaming in the side of my ear as I scrunched my nose and turned over. I slapped the "off" button and slowly sat up on the edge of my bed. Today's a new day. Just get it over with and you'll be fine, I thought to myself. I first went to my closet and picked out my usual outfit; a white v-neck with my leather jacket and skinny jeans. I hopped in the shower after that. I know I took one yesterday, but I had gotten pretty sweaty from the heat. I pulled on my clothes and let my hair down. There was no need for me to curl it, I naturally have wavy hair. I just touched it up with hairspray to keep it from frizzing, and did my makeup. I put on just a little bit, and jogged downstairs to grab some toast my mom made. I brushed my teeth, grabbed hold of my backpack, and put my sneakers on. I then deported for school.

The walk to school is not very far, only a few blocks away. I spotted other kids walking to school from my direction, so I just silently followed them there. When I arrived there, I saw a whole bunch of cliques already. No way was I going to get in any of them. I continued walking until I came across the main office. Picking up my schedule, I glanced at all the classes I had. English was first, and I was pretty happy about that. As tough as I am, I like to keep my grades good, and English is one of my favorite subjects. I enjoyed writing. I awkwardly walked in to see some people staring at me. I forgot to mention that this was an accelerated class, so not many people see hoods walking in courses like that every day. Most of the people in the class looked filthy rich, with their fancy shoes and sweaters. Some were giving me dirty looks, so I just looked away. One kid who walked through the door caught my eye. He looked like my type, wearing small clothes, with his hair greased back. He was slouched over holding his books.