My psychiatrist

Part 1

'And honey, what do you think?' Dad asked as he put a fork full of pasta into his mouth, his blue eyes meeting mine.

I rolled my eyes and concentrated on my food again. The pesto was smelly and I didn't like it. However, I had to eat something though. I lifted my shoulders as a response to my dad.

'Oh, I'm sure you've got something to say,' he said again. I looked at my mom, but she was focussed on her water which had a little fly in it. Gross.

'I don't know. It's... different.' I said quietly and stabbed my fork into a piece of chicken. 'They use the 'r' a lot in their sentences. They sound American.' I added.

'Yes, that's what I hear as well.' My mom said, whilst throwing the fly into the grass.

'Can I leave?' I asked as I looked down at my plate, which still wasn't completely emptied.

'That's fine.' My mom quickly looked at my dad, who looked back with a sceptical face.

'But she isn't done yet.'

'Thomas, she is new, just like we are. Give her some time. Everything is new for her, and she's only 17, you know.' Mom said and she turned to me again, and smiled. This was a smile which said 'it's okay', so I quickly grabbed my plate and turned around, walking inside the house again.

The house still smelled like fresh paint - which wasn't weird because everything was painted only a week ago - and the kitchen also looked too clean and too empty to be able to use. I carefully put the plate in the sink, and sighed again. Jeez, I wanted to go back. Back to our old little cute white house, with the green hedge and Joy running around in the garden. Owh, I missed her!

Only because my parents said she wouldn't survive the long trip. It would be exhausting. Too much for our little dachshound Joy. As old as I was. And my only friend. My only friend in the house. In the city even.

'Tess, wake up! School!'

I moan and turn around, grabbing my covers and burying my face in the pillows. It smells weird. Different. Different.

Then, everything comes back again. New home. New house. No dog. New friends. Friends? Maybe. New job for dad. And a new school. No. No no no!

I lift my had and look into the room. Lots and lots of brown boxes are on the floor. I am facing the door on the other side of the room and the plant next to it. Stupid plant.

'So, have fun honey. I'll be here at three.' Dad says as he leans forward and takes my hand. 'You'll be fine, I promise you. You look good. No-one will... see them.' I roll my eyes and playback 'whatever' as I grab my bag from between my feet and step out of the car.

'Bye dad.'

'Bye honey, have fun! Enjoy!'

I hear that my dad drives away and leaves the parking lot. But I don't mind. In front of me is a massive brown, wooden building. The name of the school is written is big, red font above the main entrance. At least, I guess it's the main entrance. I see lots of people walking inside, and also people greeting each other - especially girls and couples - who probably haven't seen each other over the weekend.

I grab my bag, swing it over my shoulder and walk into the schoolbuilding. I meet a stuffed hallway full of tall and small pupils, older and younger than me. Right on the other side of the corridor, I see a little sign with 'classrooms 101-121' on it.

Grabbing my phone out of my pocket, I look at the screenshot I took a few days ago.

*1st period --> 103 - History - Mr. Glenn

I guess classroom 103 is at the other side of the building, so I turn to the left and walk down the stuffed corridor, pardonning everyone to avoid angry faces.

'So you must me Ms. Black, eh?' The man in front of me asks. He is about 50 years old and his grey hair is pushed back from his face.

'Y-yeah, that's me. Nice to meet you.' I smile and my blue yes meet his brown ones. They seem friendly.

He turns himself to the class and lifts his arms, and then, as if he is pushing something down, he whistles. The class - and I'm surprised - turns silent quickly and lots of eyes are focussed on me. I turn my wrist and look down - quickly grabbing my leather jacket and pulling it further down to my hand.

*Don't show them* she says.