It All Started With a Kiss
“Class, we have a new student.” She said excitedly as if I really was a new toy, “Aquira Keeler.”
She clapped like a mad woman, her bangles and gaudy necklaces jangled.
Her orange flaming dress and her paint splattered apron gave the impression she was an art teacher.
“Welcome to Nine B homeroom.”
The class clapped.
I walked away to my seat; I chose one near the back, away from all the calling of my name, avoiding the stares.
She clapped like a mad woman, her bangles and gaudy necklaces jangled.
Her orange flaming dress and her paint splattered apron gave the impression she was an art teacher.
“Welcome to Nine B homeroom.”
The class clapped.
I walked away to my seat; I chose one near the back, away from all the calling of my name, avoiding the stares.