Welcome To Rosewood High

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  • Dedicated to Rina Who Unknowingly Convinced Me To Be Passionate About Life
                                    

Author's Note: The first two chapters are descriptive and kind of slow, but by chapter 3 the action picks up and there are quite a few plot developments that keep things interesting. Please don't give-up after only reading the first chapter!

“Rosewood High” was written in big letters on the grey building that stood before me. The parking lot was still mostly empty because the bell wasn’t due to ring for the next thirty minutes. But I wanted to be early, get my schedule, find my locker, look for my classes and all that jazz. With a heavy sigh I stepped out of my silver Toyota, locking the doors, and made my way to the entrance.

You guessed it; I was starting my senior year of high school in a new place. I didn’t mind leaving my old friends and everything behind, they were just people and there would be more here too, that I could count on.

I opened the main door to the school and looked around. Faded red lockers lined the halls, and the floor was spotless, untouched by scuff marks of dirty shoes and litter from careless teens. They had the air conditioning on full blast, causing me to shiver slightly and pull my navy blue cardigan over my bare shoulders. I was wearing a simple white tank top with jean shorts. There was nothing special about me, I wasn’t the type of person who tried to stand out. I liked being average.

There was a door to my right labeled ‘Office’ and I headed straight for it. Twisting the knob I walked in to see three secretaries all on computers, typing away. I approached the one closest to me and cleared my throat slightly to get her attention. She had frizzy light brown hair that was piled into a bun on top of her head and black glasses perched on her nose. The woman gave me a warm smile, her eyes crinkling at the sides.

“What can I do for you today miss?” she politely asked. I returned her smile with a small one of my own. It is always beneficial to be polite to people, you never know when you may need their assistance in the future.

“Hi, I’m new here. My name’s Sara James and I wondering if I could get my schedule?”

“Just one second, please!” came her response as she started clicking and typing on the computer in front of her. I slightly readjusted my backpack on my shoulder as I saw her head over to the printer at the back of the room. It was a shoulder-bag that my mom had gotten me last year, it was black and grey with an awesome Aztec pattern and I loved it. The secretary headed back over to me, sliding the papers in her hand to me.

“Okay so here’s your schedule and your locker number. The combination is written on the bottom of the page. It’s at the other end of this floor so just head straight and you’ll find it. Do you need anything else?” she asked. I shook my head no, and smiled once again as I thanked her and left.

Glancing at my watch, I saw that there was still twenty minutes till my first class began. I found my locker really easily and I just practiced opening it a couple times because I didn’t have any books to put in it yet. For the first time I looked at the crisp white paper that had my courses written on it in my hands. This semester I had Calculus, Chemistry, English, and Drama. Not bad.

Wandering through the halls, I managed to find all of my classrooms. It was pretty easy because everything was numbered, the 100s on the first floor, the 200s on the second. The halls were filling with students as I kept walking. There was laughter and screaming as people found their friends that they hadn’t seen since the summer started. The noise picked up and I made my way to my first class of the day, Chemistry. I was the first person in the room, and the teacher looked up briefly when I walked in, smiled slightly, and turned back to the papers that were on his desk. The room was set up as lab benches, two per table with one very long one at the front for the teacher. Taking a seat in the middle of the room but by the window I let my backpack rest on the floor. According to my schedule, the teacher was Mr. Castello. He looked very young compared to the teachers at my old school but still probably in his late twenties. People started filing into the class, none of them even glancing twice at me. It was a big school and I’m pretty sure people were too caught up in the hype of their friends to notice someone new.

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