wicked//punk l.h

chapter one

sometimes i write her letters thinking maybe she'll write back. she never does.
||courtney peppernell||

IT'S BEEN EXACTLY three weeks since I have left Brooklyn, New York and began living with my dad in Boston. Before three weeks ago, I haven't seen him since I was young. My mom basically kept me away from him since he was an 'unfit parent', but he's been nothing but good to me these few weeks.

In exactly four days, it will be my first day in a brand new school since grade 7. I'm a Junior now.

To say I was nervous would be an understatement. I was filled with anxiety and dark thoughts.

What if I don't meet any new friends?

What if they all hate me?

What if I hate the cafeteria food?

These questions only stressed me out more.

Even if I had all my highlighters and colorful pens packed away in my bag, I felt like I wasn't ready.

■■■

"Have a great day, Harmony," my dad sent a supportive thumbs up as I shut the car door. Although I can drive and have my own car, he insisted he drove me on my first day. It's only gonna suck when I have to wait out front for him to get off work.

Once he sped away, I took a deep breath in before making my way to the front steps.

"This is gonna be our year, Devon," a younger high school student, who I assumed was a freshman, tugged on his friends arm. The way their bags were stuffed to the rim with unnecessary supplies and the brand new school shoes they wore only made me wish I was their age again. Now, I have to worry about what I may want to do for the rest of my life.

I adjusted the one strap of my bag on my shoulder before making my way up the steps. Once I stepped inside, I was reminded why I hated high school. Older kids were pressuring innocent freshman for the lunch money their moms were generous enough to hand out, couples were cuddling each other, best friends screamed about how much they missed each other.

With an eye roll at the over dramatic hug between two girls, I made my way to the main office.

"Goodmorning," a young woman smiled from behind the desk.

"Morning," I muttered. "Uh, I'm new and don't have a locker or anything. My names Harmony Hunter."

"Not a problem." She cheerfully stood up and went to a overstuffed binder. Why was this woman so perky on the first day of school? I've had two cups of coffee but I still can't find a pinch of happiness.

"Here's your schedule. You have advanced functions, art, free period -we like it when students stay in the library or caf for their spares," she explained before carrying on. I'm glad she started listing off my classes because I couldn't wrap my head around the codes. "Then after lunch, you have english then double period automotive."

"Thank you," I softly smiled. I glanced down at the messy pencil marks that were left on the paper.

"And your locker number is at the top of the page. It seems like its upstairs in the math wing. Here's a lock for you. Have a great first day!"