My life as a loser in High School.

“Brie, we’re here.” A voice softly whispered in my ear. My eyes fluttered open and I yawned before taking in my surroundings. I soon wished I was asleep again.

I don’t know how long we had been driving; maybe three hours? The removal men were already here and loading our furniture into our “new” house. This was the result of my mother stopping at a service station and insisting we had a proper meal as she wouldn’t have time to cook later; like she had time to cook anyway. House wife wasn’t in her description.

The house in front of us wasn’t as bad as I imagined. I undid my seatbelt and stepped out of the cramped car relieved to be able to stretch my legs after the long journey.

“Why don’t you go in and pick your room?” My mum suggested waving her phone around to try and get a decent reception.

I shrugged and muttered a “whatever” before grabbing my bag and heading into my new home. The house itself looked small and ancient. The paint was cracked and there was some tiled missing from the roof. I hoped to God there wouldn’t be a leak in my room when it rained or I would give the phrase “hissy fit” a whole new meaning.

The two removal men- whose names I would probably never learn- where arguing once again. In the corner of the hallway was a small pile of glass which was probably a result of an expensive ornament which they have dropped. I rolled my eyes and headed up the creaky stairs, not really looking forward to what I would find there.

After checking all the rooms and deciding they were nearly suitable enough to sleep in, I chose the second biggest room. It wasn’t actually that big and my double bed would probably take up most of the room but I loved the view.

Back at my old house, I had the biggest room although I was only home at the weekends. One of the disadvantages of going to an all girls boarding school, I guess. When I was home my mother rarely slept in a bed, so I guess she wasn’t too fussed about letting me have her old room. She would often work late hours and when she eventually stumbled home, tired out of her skull, she would just collapse on the sofa. By, the time I got up she had already left for work again.

She wasn’t always like this; I think working keeps her mind off things.

I dumped my bag on the floor and walked towards the window, to get a better look outside. It was weird. Before we had our own land so our house was kinder isolated. But this house was semi-detached so it was joined to the next one.

I could see their back gardens clearly and I wondered if they could see ours, which they probably could. I remember reading something that said someone’s back yard could tell a lot about a person. The garden on my right, which was separated by a fence, was perfect. There wasn’t a weed to be seen or a blade of glass out of place. I guessed the owner of the house probably had a lot of time on their hands. Maybe they were old and had retired so they had taken up gardening as a hobby?

The garden on my left had a rusty swing and toys littered a sand box. I guessed that that family had children. I smiled weakly; I always had a soft spot for kids.

I sighed and tucked a strand of blonde hair behind my ear. Our garden wasn’t much to look at.

I faintly heard someone yelling my name and I sighed as I made my way back down stairs. Today was going to be complete crap and a thought slipped into my head which didn’t make me think the slightest bit better. I had school tomorrow.

***

A loud beep echoed across the room and my eyes snapped open in surprise and shock. What the hell?! What time is it?

I glanced at my alarm clock which the wretched noise was coming from and I groaned in annoyance. It was 7am. 7 freaking am. It felt like I had about an hours sleep. This new school was inhumane. Even at St Marks we didn’t have to get up until 9am then we got an hour to dress and have our breakfast. This new routine is doing nothing for my complexion.

I heard a loud banging on my door and my Mum stormed in already dressed. “Brianna!” She yelled. I moaned and pulled my pillow on top of my head. Hopefully, I’ll suffocate. “Switch that alarm off! And get up. You’ve start school today and I don’t want you late on your first day. And before you start, yes you are bloody going.”

She slammed the door but not before shouting that I’ve got half an hour. I cursed under my breath and turned my alarm off.

Well, I guess the good news is that we were only ten minutes late. My hair felt terrible as I didn’t have time to shower last night so I took one this morning. That took longer than usual as every two minutes the water would either go really hot or completely freezing. There was more than one occasion when I was screaming and hopping around the bathroom with shampoo in my hair.

I also discovered another thing that sucked about this new school. It didn’t have uniforms. Now, some people say that’s a good thing and I’m all for expressing yourself through clothes but for some people it’s like signing your own death certificate. I’m not fashionable. I don’t know what’s hot and what’s not. It was okay in my old school because every one just wore the same thing and the only way you would get picked on is if you say something they don’t like. The easy solution to this is to keep your mouth closed.

I eventually settled on a pair of denim shorts worn over tights with a Mickey Mouse shirt I got like two years ago. I’m still waiting for my hormones to kick in and give me the hips and breasts I rightfully deserve so I won’t have the body of a little girl for the rest of my life. I was sulking last night so I didn’t have chance to unpack my clothes so all I’ve got is that outfit and some clothes with paint splodges on. Oh, well. Maybe people will think my look is “quirky”?

After about twenty minutes of my Mum screaming at me to get a move on, she eventually managed to get me into the car and we were heading towards Kings; the name of the so called school.

I worriedly pulled the tips of my blonde, straightened hair and sighed. The ride to school was pretty uneventful. In fact it was absolutely silent. The only sound that could be heard was our breathing, hers deeper and more nervous than mine. I don’t know why, though. I’m the one who’s being forced to go to this place. I reached my hand out and switched the radio on. Some old Beatles song was playing and my mum started absently minded tapping her fingers against the steering wheel. I sighed and just leant back, letting the voice of John Lennon soothe me into a calm state of mind so I didn’t throw a hissy fit when I saw the place I had to spend the next couple of years in.

The only way to describe it was grey. There was a big, rusty sign that said the words “Kings. Secondary school of education” painted across it in cheap, flaky paint. The walls were grey, the doors were grey and the sky outside was grey as if it knew what kind of torture I had coming towards me. It didn’t look pretty. My mother pulled up and to my relief I saw that all of the students had gone inside. Well, that was a good thing I guess. I would only have to face one classroom of students now and not the entire school population.

Inside was even worse. There was graffiti scrawled up the walls which a member of staff was now scrubbing at with a sponge and some bleach. The smell stung my nostrils and a wave of nausea swam through me.

“Are you okay?” My mum asked.

“Just peachy,” I snapped back. She rolled her eyes and started to say something back but we had reached the front office.

“Erm, I’m here to see Mr Cook. My daughter is new to the school? Brianna Munroe?” In front of me sat a blonde woman who looked way older than she obviously was. I bet it was working at a place like this. She typed something into her computer and nodded, smiling sympathetically at me. Mentally she was telling me to get the hell out of there whilst I could.

“Yes, if you just wait by his office, Mr Cook will be with you shortly.”

My mum smiled at her sweetly and grabbed my hand before I could start protesting. I prayed the bell wouldn’t go whilst I was stood outside with my mother. That wouldn’t look cool at all. About five minutes after standing outside the office, with me trying not to stand anywhere that might have chewing gum trodden into the carpet, the ‘head master’ came.

He was wearing a huge leather jacket which was very tight around his stomach and a motor bike helmet. He took it off when he saw us and revealed a bright pink face. I had decided it was a mid life crisis.

“I’m sorry; I’m running a bit late.” He gasped wiping his brow. “I’m Mr Cooke, your daughters new Head Master.” He introduced himself to my Mum who was sending him a false smile. He run his hand through his thin hair dislodging some and revealing a not so cleverly disguised bald patch.

“And you must be Brianna.” He said extending an arm and revealing some very dirty nails. I stared coolly at it before he brought it close to his side again confused.

“You can call me Brie.” I told him.

“Right. Brie. Well, come in. Welcome to my office. Hopefully you won’t have to come here very often. For some of my other students, this is like a second home to them...” He trailed off chuckling to himself and gestured for us to sit down.

“Well, Brie. I think you’re going to like it at Kings. I know it’s going to be a huge change; swapping from an all girls private school to a mixed public school. The testosterone will hit you head on but if any of the guys give you any trouble, a swift kick in the balls should make them keep their distance.” My mother coughed to remind him that I didn’t need any encouragement to be violent and he immediately started muttering his apologies. “Okay, I see from your report card you need some help in a few subjects; mainly maths and science.”

“Actually, I’m really bad in most subjects.” I told him helpfully. “I’m kinder okay in English but that’s it.”

He frowned for a moment but then his face smoothed out into a smile. “We will leave it for a few months first and see how you get on. Do you have any more questions?” I shook my head and he handed me my time table. “Okay, I will take you to your first class. Ms Munroe you can now leave. It was very nice meeting you.”

“It was nice meeting you too. Take care Brie!” She said before leaving the office. It seemed she couldn’t get out of there quick enough. The journey was pretty much Mr Cooke chatting about all the “fun” after school clubs and me murmuring in response. I’ve have never been so aware of the dark roots peeping out through my blonde, highlighted hair or the clothes I was wearing.

“I believe you have English first.” He said pausing in front of a door. The sounds coming from the other side didn’t sound too great. “Your teacher is called Miss Davis.” He opened the door and immediately the class fell quiet only to start speaking again when they realised it was only the head master. The teacher was reading a glossy magazine and not paying attention to the boy who was getting pelted with paper balls. I tried my hardest to hold back a gulp. I watched as Mr Cooke spoke to Miss Davis and she nodded beckoning me in and him out. The whole class fell silent once again but this time they didn’t regain speech.

“Class, this is Brianna Munroe. She’s new here from St Markus so I expect she will be feeling a little scared.” Oh, God this was awful. She was introducing me as if I was twelve or something. I lowered my head so my hair covered my burning face. “Do you want to say something, Brianna?”

“Erm, you can call me Brie. I mean if you want, that is.” I stuttered. A few smirks appeared on my class mates faces.

“Okay Brie, you can sit next to Dylan. Dylan’s partner got excluded a few weeks ago and isn’t coming back anytime soon...” She started chuckling under her breath then dismissed me with a flick of her wrist.

Who the hell is Dylan? I glanced around the room anxiously but it seemed they had gotten bored with me already and had continued talking and causing havoc. I finally saw the only empty desk in the room and guessed that the head that was facing the back belonged to Dylan. I sighed and made my way towards the desk.

His bag was sitting in the chair I was suppose to be sat and his books were sprawled out taking up the entire desk. It left a grand total of zero room for me. I coughed loudly and he suddenly stopped talking to his friends, turning around agonizingly slowly.

I swear my breath hitched in my throat. This boy “Dylan” was gorgeous. His skin was a pale, creamy colour and I itched to stroke his cheek to see if it was as soft as it looked. His hair was somewhere between being described as long or short and the dark colour of it contrasted beautifully with his skin.

His body was a little on the scrawny side for a male and his clothing style was... alternative? I found my gaze travelling up his body to his face; past his pouty lips, over his perfect nose and to his dazzling eyes. They were the most delicious shade of green I had ever seen although they darkened when they met my own.

“I...Erm, I have to sit here.” I attempted to explain, my face blushing deeply. Hey, I had never actually spoke to a boy before and now I had to share breathing space with the best looking one I had ever seen. God was either being really mean, or really nice. I couldn’t decide.

His forehead creased up a little and he pulled his bag off the chair and slid his stuff up on his side of the desk. “Thanks,” I mumbled, placing my butt down and cringing slightly as the chair squeaked. I could feel all eyes on me and being centre of attention isn’t my forte. “Er, hi.” I said to him trying not to stare into his gorgeous green eyes. They were outlined in the most fabulous sooty eyelashes I would actually kill for. “I’m Brie.”

“I know. You said that about a minute ago when you were in front of the class.” His voice was as smooth and sweet as I imagined but it was harsh. The people he was talking to before started sniggering and I felt my cheeks redden. “Hey, did you say you were from St Markus?” He suddenly asked turning so I could get the full throttle of his beauty.

“Y...Yeah,” I hated that my voice sounded all girly and breathy.

Dylan smirked and he leant forward to whisper something in his friend’s ear. I shifted uncomfortably as they both cracked up laughing. “We met someone from there at a party once,” He told me, flicking his hair out of his face.

“Yeah?”

“Yes. Are you all as easy as she was?” The smirk on his face grew bigger.

“Excuse me!” I exclaimed shocked. Well, I wasn’t expecting him to say that! He simply laughed and turned so his back was facing me. He and his friends resumed the conversation they were having before I arrived on the scene.

I leant back on my chair confused and a little angry. The text book the class were supposed to be working on hadn’t been opened and it didn’t look like anyone else was working. I glanced at Dylan again and felt a wave of smug satisfaction flow through me when I saw that his nails were bitten and his hands were covered in paint. Well, he’s not that perfect.

I sighed deeply and gazed at the Shakespeare book wondering whether I should make a start. Occasionally my eyes flicked to the clock on the wall opposite me. Only five and a half more hours until I could see my Mother again and beg to be home schooled. Today was going to be a long day...