Where I Belong #Wattys2021

Chapter 1

I stood in front of a noisy classroom. The teacher seemed to be struggling with quieting the students to announce to them a new student has transferred; Me.

I moved to Lyon, France all the way from America. I was born and raised in Miami Florida, and a year earlier I wouldn't have imagined myself in a country where English isn't even spoken much, but a language I struggle with. But after an Incident, I needed a change. I needed to get away from my school, friends, and family to get a breather. My Dad studied in France during his college days, so he had quite a few friends he could get help from. One of them was the principal of the school I've enrolled in.

The principal, Camille Andreas, was the younger brother of my Dad's best friend whom he had tutored while living in France. He was more than willing to take me under his care and have me enrolled in his school. Camille was only thirty-six and was living with his twin sister Felicity, who was married and had an obnoxious, rude son a year older than me. He had clearly been displeased seeing my face and demanded that I be sent back to where I had come from. He totally treated me like some animal from a zoo.

A sudden loud noise brought me back to my senses. Looking around for the source, I find the homeroom teacher holding a steel ruler. She must have banged it on the table to get everyone's attention. It worked like a charm. Every single eye in the room strained on me. Sighing, the teacher turned to me apologetically.

"Please go on dear," she says motioning to the class.

It was weird seeing a class full of kids with Uniforms; White and blue checkered skirt, pants in guy's case, short white sleeved shirt, navy blue blazer with the school's badge on the left side and navy blue and white tie. My previous high school allowed casual wear; thus, it was such an annoyance to wear one of these uniforms first thing in the morning.

"Bonjour." I start, flinching at my own greeting. "I'm Amelia Brooke. I've just transferred. Nice to meet you all." I say monotonously. I was never the dull kind. However, I had no intention of getting along with anyone in the class. I'm just here to pass my days and try to forget what happened.
There was no response from anyone, except one kid who was grinning goofily from ear to ear, rocking back and forth on his chair. A baseball cap was plopped sideways on his head, slightly revealing his strawberry blonde hair.

"Why did you transfer to our lycee in the middle of the year Amelia?" the goofy kid asks, his eyes gleaming.

Lycee? He must mean school.

"I had personal reasons," I reply to him in remorse. The kid had done nothing wrong, but I hated being questioned.

With a clap, Miss Valerie stood up from her seat which she had taken while I was introducing myself. She faced me with a smile.

"Now that introductions are out of the way, why don't we assign you a seat?" Saying so, she turned to the class scanning every nook and corner. "How about over there? Next to Pierre? He seems to be willing to be best buds with you." She gently pushes me towards the class. Tugging my school bag strap, I stare at the class.

Who's Pierre?

The guy with the baseball cap motioned to the empty seat in front of him. Guess he's the one.
I drop my bag on the desk and sit down. I could feel the stares from every direction but I ignored all and faced the whiteboard in front.

"Psh. Psh! Amelia!"

Turning around I was closely faced with the goofy guy. A wide grin still plastered to his face. I wasn't sure if it was fake or genuine.

"What?" I ask him quite rudely trying to make it clear to him I was not here to play friends.

"I'm Pierre Thomlinson. Ravi de Vous rencontrer Amelia." He says extending his hand. He sure loves saying my name a lot. Not sure what he meant in French, I just shook his hand, gave a nod and turned.

"Amelia. Amelia!" He was calling my name over and over again. I clenched the strap of my bag tightly. If he doesn't stop, I'm going to hit him with my bag. God I might as well break his pretty little nose while I’m at it.

"Ame..." a whiteboard duster flew past me and hit Pierre straight in the face, his cap dropping down revealing the most ridiculous bed hair I'd ever seen.

"Leave Amelia alone, you moron!" Miss Valerie yelled, hands on her hips. Pierre gave her a grin, to which she groaned earning the laughter of the entire class.

"Forget about him. He's always been a bird-brain," a girl, seated next to me, says, pointing her thumb to Pierre.

"I'm Ninnon. Nice to meet you." She says with a vague nod. I gave one in return.
She wore glasses, but behind them, I could see large chocolate brown eyes. Her hair was bluish-black done in a high ponytail with bangs covering her forehead. She faced the class once more, and so did I.

The classroom was filled with laughter and teasing, and I tried my best to zone out of it all.

Unlike back in America, where we had to shift classes, here in France the respective subject teachers came to the classroom. Which was a disadvantage to me. I was hoping to bunk a few and go find a spot I could call my own.

After what felt like forever, the bell rang signaling break time. I’d been seated on the same spot for hours, my butt started to ache. Everyone around me sighed in relief. Pierre dashed out of the classroom even before the Math teacher had left.

What's with this guy and his way of living?

Everyone in the class formed cliques and began eating home-made lunch boxes while a few walked out in groups to the cafeteria. I was on my own, so I decide to head out and look for that personal spot of mine. Ninnon turns to me suddenly, and at the same time, Pierre arrives, panting aloud as he stood in front of my desk, holding a wrapped hotdog, looking at me expectantly. What? He ran all the way to the cafeteria and back just so we could eat together?

"Am..." He starts but was interrupted.

"Mia."

And I flinch in disgust.

I was called Mia back home, but the only person who calls me that here in France just to irritate me was that jerk. Even before I saw his face, I scowled.

Standing by the doorway, leaning on the wall with a bored and arrogant expression was none other than Adrien Valentin, aka Principal Camille's rude nephew.

"Yeah, it's bad to see you too." He says looking at me pointedly.

The class grows silent as they exchange glances from Adrien to me. What? They've never seen opposite sex interaction?

"You know the Vice Prez?" Pierre whispers to me, but his shock must have been as enormous as his voice, because he was practically yelling. A look of utter shock replaced his goofy grin.

"Who?"

"The Vice President of the student council. You seem to be acquainted with him." Ninnon says nodding her head in Adrien's direction.

The guy in my vision had his shirt untucked, tie loosely hanging around his neck, blazer unbuttoned and sleeves rolled up. How in the world can such a person hold the vice president position? More like the school's number one delinquent if you ask me.

"Are you coming or what?" Adrien asks his voice laced with annoyance. What's the big deal? I never asked him to come fetch me for Christ's sake. The fuck is he acting so arrogant?

Unzipping my bag, I grab the lunchbox rude boy’s Mom generously prepared for me and get to my feet. "The only guy I know in this school is my Dad's friend's arrogant jerk nephew." Saying so I follow Adrien who had already started walking away not waiting for me.

"Isn't Adrien Valentin the nephew of the Principal?" I heard Pierre asking Ninnon. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her give a nod.

"SHE'S FRIENDS WITH THE PRINCIPAL!?" Was what I heard last. Pierre's yell was most likely heard by the entire school.