B is For...

3 - Back (in School)

3 - Back (in School)

"How do you like the school so far?" Dad asked me from across the table. Today marks the third week I've been at that school. So far, my two weeks have been...tolerable. Teachers: Nice. Work: simple enough. Friends: well, working on that.

There's this one girl in my Home Ec. Class that I've grown accustom to greeting every time I walk in. She seems cool enough. This past Friday, the only topic has been of one person.

Oh my God! He's going to be back next week! Oh my God, I can't want to see him! Oh my God, he texted me back last night! And stuff like that. You'd think he was some sort of celebrity by how much girls swoon over him. I bet he's definitely going to win Mr. Popular in the school year book.

"It's going well. Although some people can't seem to get past my hair," I told him before taking a bite out of a piece of bacon.

"I prefer your natural brown hair myself," Dad felt the need to point out. I eyed my dad. He wasn't very old. He and my mom had me around their early twenties when they had me. They were high school sweethearts. But unlike the romance stories where the high school sweethearts stay together, get married, have kids, and live happily ever after, my parents decided to branch out from that.

Dad wasn't chubby, but he wasn't thin either. He stands at six feet tall...lucky him. I, unfortunate got my mother's short genes. She's 5'3'' while I'm 5'2''. But if anyone asked me, I'd tell them that I'm not short, I'm fun size.

When we finished our breakfast, we both walked out and went our separate ways; him to work, me to school. He offered to drop me off at school, but I convinced him I was fine. I didn't live too far away; it was only a twenty minute walk; not to mention a straight shot.

I've been walking to and from school every day, and I'm oddly okay with that.The weather's nice and the neighborhood is nice. And hey, at least I'm getting my daily exercise. Like every day, I see a few other students leaving their houses and heading to school; some are walking like me while others are driving.

When I finally made it to school and to my locker, I can't help but overhear the conversations. "Have you seen him yet?" a blonde girl asked a group of her friends. One of her friends shook their head.

"No, but you know he's never in his classes," the friend answered. I noticed the blonde huff in frustration. This isn't the first time I've seen her behave like this when it came to Braddon Wilson. Whenever she hears a girl talking about what they wish to do to him, she goes livid.

Maybe she's his girlfriend? No, that can't be right. There would've been talk about it if that was the case. I shrugged my shoulder at my thoughts. Oh well, it's not my concern. I got out the correct book for my first class and headed off. Alrighty then, time to get this day started...

***

Okay, find an empty spot to sit. Find an empty spot to sit. Find an empty spot to sit.

This has been my daily chant whenever I was in the cafeteria. I stand right here at the end of the food line, with my tray full of food, and begin to search the large room for an empty seat. Every day these past two weeks, I've sat in random and different places.

For instance, last Friday, I sat over there by the wall plastered with school spirit posters. I can't sit there now because it's occupied by a group of friends. I scan the room again, hoping this time to find a spot. When I see an empty table, I sigh in relief. Yes! It didn't take very long this time.

I rush over and plant my tray on the white, rectangular table. I sat at the end and began peeling my orange. Well, I attempted to peel my orange. Dang it! Why did I decide to clip my nails last night? I grunted in annoyance at my sad attempt.