Little Miss Know-it-all

1: Knots.

Chapter 1: Knots.

The most important thing in life is to learn to give out love, and to let it come in.
-Morrie Schwartz.

Listen to Lovely by Billie Eilish.

-

I HATED MY HAIR. It was so thick, curly and annoying. Sometimes, even my hands couldn't do a good job of untangling the curly knots. I didn't like combing it for any reason. But today I just had to. I had this huge cup where I kept combs and brushes which I hardly ever used. I picked one with widely spaced teeth and ran it through my hair. I didn't exactly 'run' it through my hair though. It took a lot of tugging, pulling and yelling to get it done but in the end I did it.

I stared blankly at my new school uniform in the mirror. It was nice. Too nice even, just like the many things Father always got me. Too nice, too exquisite and too intricate looking. I didn't want or need any of this. It felt too much altogether.

I sighed and ran my strawberry lip gloss over my lips, picked up my black and white Jansport bag and headed out of my room. I made my way out of my room and into the excessively big hallway. Everything always seemed far too luxurious and always screamed of excess and perfection when it came to Father. I never really liked that about him. I jogged down the spiral of stairs which sometimes seemed confusing to look at.

"Miss Kiara," I heard my name being called by Natalie. Natalie was like a personal assistant to my father or something. I neither knew nor did I care about what her job was in this house.

"Yes," I turned to her.

"Your father asked if you have had breakfast yet." She said monotonously.

"I have, thanks for asking," I replied.

"Gideon is in the car, your father said I should tell you good luck on your first day of school," she said.

"Thanks," I said and made my way out of the living room.

"Father said, Father said, Father said... Father always says," I mimicked Natalie in annoyance.

I slid into the car. "Good morning Miss Kiara."

"Morning Gideon." I replied.

"Your father said you should be outside the school for me to pick you up at 3:00pm,"he said.

"Yeah, sure."

There we go Father said, Father said, Father said. I leaned my head against the window and looked out at the blur of trees, people, cars, shops, parks and so many other blurs of colours and buildings blending into one another. Colours were a beautiful thing. I don't know what life would be without them. If only - and my thoughts were interrupted at that very moment by none other than...

"We're here. Don't forget-"

"What your Father said, I know." I cut him short, opened the door and let it close with a loud bang.

~

"....and your locker number is 406. Here's your schedule, timetable and locker combination all in this paper. Your ID card will be ready by 10am tomorrow morning. Have a great day."

I got out of the office just in time. The secretary was really nice and very cheerful but she had one of those annoying piercing voices which could probably make my ears bleed if I didn't get out of her office sooner.

I finally found locker 406 and took out my notes from my bag and kept my MacBook inside. I stuffed the paper with my schedule and other stuff in my bag. And then I had to go for the most hated class of all time. Drumroll please....

Chemistry.

I hated chemistry nearly as much as I hated my hair.

It was too complex and had way too many calculations and formulas. I trudged to class while humming 'Devils Don't Fly' by Natalie Kills. The hallway was empty and I was late. It's probably because of that hyperactive secretary. She took far too much time. I finally stopped in front of the door. I took a deep breath and was about to open the door when I heard a British accented voice say, "Rehearsing how to enter the class?"

I froze.

The knots in my hair were comparable to the ones in my stomach at that very moment.

"Here, let me show you," the same person said again.

I blinked to make sure that this voice wasn't in my head. I moved away from the door handle and let my arm fall limply to my side.
I saw someone's hand. It was a big, masculine hand. That hand opened the door to reveal a classroom full of seated people in exactly the same uniform as I was in and a teacher who stopped what she was saying to look at who opened the door. He brushed past me and walked in like he owned the class.

"Good morning class," he said with a smirk. I just stood and stared like an idiot, "aren't you going to come in?" He asked.

I clutched the straps of my bag nervously and walked into the class. My black Jimmy Choo boots making click-clack sounds on the tiled floor. I was not used to standing in front of crowds.

"Oh!," The teacher suddenly said," you're the new student right?"

"Yeah," I replied quietly.

"Please introduce yourself to the class."

Do I really want to be called Kiara here too?

No. I don't like that name very much.

"H-hi everyone. I'm Zuri Hernandez," I stuttered.

"Hi Zuri," the class chorused.

"Now we'll continue with the class," the teacher said,"there's a free seat at the back Zuri. Make yourself comfortable."

"Thank you," I said and walked to the last seat in the far left.

I took out my Chemistry note and began to take notes on what the teacher was saying when someone just had to call my attention.

"So Zuri, what school are you from?"

No answer.

"Hello?" He said again.

No answer.

"So you won't answer?"

No reply.

"So Zuri, what's your name?"

You literally just said it, I almost said.

"Okay that didn't work."

"Could you shut up?" I said in annoyance.

"Oh, she speaks," he said sarcastically.

I sighed and continued to take notes.
"Are you really going to ignore me?" he said again.

"Yup," I said popping the p.

Almost as soon as I said that the bell rang signalling the end of the class. I picked up my bag and my note and rushed out of the class.

I don't want or need friends. After all, they always end up abandoning you, no matter how much they promised that they'll be there.

-
Thanks so much for checking out my book. I would really appreciate it if you added it to your library and support my book. I hope you enjoyed the first chapter and are anticipating more. Corrections are accepted but please don't be too harsh. Thanks again for checking my book out.
Love,
Diash Quinn.