It All Started With a Kiss

I looked out my clouded window, the heat from inside touching one side, and the chilly breeze from outside on the other. The little drops of condensation welled up and slid down. I watched cars pass on the streets below, some occasionally tooting their horns at drivers who did something stupid. I watched as people rugged up in puffy coats rushed past with a puppy trotting at their feet. Amazing how life goes on around you, isn’t it?

I turned away from the window pane and to my cupboard. The sudden change in autumn weather had hit. I fished through strappy summer singlet’s and mini shorts that involved days at the beach, to my longer sleeved shirts and tight fitting jeans. I looked for something with an earthy colour, but all I could do was find a warm brown and an avocado green. I paired my longer brown underneath my green for warmth and added style benefits. I knew my washout jeans would go nicely too. I dug around my boxes of clothes that were put away for the summer for my furry coat. When I found it, it had dust and a musky smell like my grandmother’s house. The hot chocolate my mum had made called me, I drank it slowly, letting its heat fill my chest. I sighed as my fingers curled around the mug and began to warm. I loved that feeling.

I put my books into my bag slowly as my fingers began to slow, checking my large white room once more on my way out. I slipped my warm arms into the straps of my bag, letting it swing over my shoulder. I waved to my mum on the way out, she had her head on the table, recovering from a hangover would be my best guess. She had been having a rough time with boyfriends since dad died. He was an amazing man and, as she had put it, she couldn’t survive without him. I loved her more than anything, and with our little two bedroom town house, I couldn’t spare not to.

I opened the door and a wave of freezing air hit me, blowing my dark brown fringe across my face. I straightened it out, letting my cold hands graze my forehead. I stepped onto the icy path and walked onto the sidewalk to wait for the bus. When its white doors opened, the warm air flooded out and the driver signalled for us to hurry in, not bothering for our money.

I sat near the back seat of boys; a new school year may come with problems, especially being the new kids all over again. I turned around to get a better look at the boys who took up the back seat, but as I turned, I realised that I could only see one. He looked sad. I turned back around, not wanting to stare. His hair fell over his face, and his eyes were a deep brown. His cheekbones were high, and he had amazing looks. I sighed; my last boyfriend had dumped me as soon as I told him I was moving away. His excuse was he couldn’t handle not seeing me. Too bad for him...

When the bus stopped outside the red brick school, I felt the rumble of moving legs on the bus. I was going to be stuck dead last getting off. I waited for the body-squasher’s to go past until I stepped out into the aisle. I was last off, I was sure of it, until the boy I had noticed earlier got off after me. I watched the exchanging of greeting hugs, the type I wouldn’t be seeing for a while yet. The boy stepped around me, his arm brushing along mine. I felt my wispy hairs on my arm brush his longer, more wild ones. A shiver ran down my spine and I looked around the gates of teenagers swarming in around me. First day back after the holidays, I felt like a new toy, something untouched and still in its packaging. I followed the squalls of laughing voices into the field. The bell screamed through the peaceful yard and I decided to ask for directions to the office. A short girl with a friendly face walked past, I decided she would be fine to ask.

“Excuse me, can you give me directions to the administration block?” I used a tone of voice I used to strangers on the street and callers on the phone.

“Sure,” she pointed her finger in the direction of a disjointed building, “I’m Whitney. What’s your name?”

“Aquira.” I said softly.

“Nice name!” she said, tilting her head to the side, as if to size me up.

I looked away, “Thanks, I had better go now.” I turned to walk away but the person in front of me was the boy from the bus. I stopped and a few people ran into the back of me, pushing and shoving to get around me. I turned and sighed. Life was always so hard.

As the heated air floated a metre from the admin door, I rushed in. I sat on a waiting chair and smiled at the lady behind the desk. She was a stumpy woman. Her legs were round like tree trunks and her makeup was thick. She smiled back; her teeth were coffee stained, from long hours of printing letters to go out to parents. She seemed nice.

“Ms. De Brees will be with you in a moment. Can I help you with anything else today, miss?” the fat lady said with a high, crackly voice.

“No thank you. I am fine. I will just wait.” I smiled back at her, and then looked awkwardly at my feet. My scuffed chain store shoes stood out in the swarms of colourful designer brands.

I waited, the clock sung its song like it always did, the coffee machine worked up a storm, the printer and phone screamed; the office band. The door cracked open in an office just down the hall, muffled voices escaped the safety and a lanky boy and pudgy girl walked out holding a sign that read in neat handwriting ‘give to the poor, save the future’, the shut the door but still a blast of cold air rolled in. Ms. De Brees walked out and looked at me sceptically, like a dish of food she had never tried.

“Aquira Keeler?” she said, her tone was gruff and suited her round, ball-like body structure.

I nodded and stood as she beckoned me into her office. I sat down at the chair she signalled for me to do so, fiddling with my Bohemian bracelet around my wrist. “Welcome to Saint Anthony’s. I have seen your reference and we will very much value your application. In this book,” she handed me a grey binder with a school emblem taking up the front cover, “it will have everything you need, a map, timetable, class list, school rules, everything. If you have any questions, get your mother or father to contact me and we can organise an appointment. You should head to your class now.” She stood, hoisting her body off the seat and joined me on the opposite side of her desk. She opened the door and mentioned something about enjoying my time at this school. I grunted. Private schools always sucked.

I followed the thinning hall ways to a class room with the matching letter and number to the ones in my book. I held my fist to the red timber and rapped lightly. Shushed voices stopped and the door opened as a smiling teacher revealed the class room. Students were sitting on desks and gum was being chewed. I walked in; feeling like the protective wrapper had just been torn off in a hurry to get to the new toy. I stood shyly at the front of the class, eyes glued to me.

“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.

I sat next to a familiar face, the boy I had seen on the bus the same morning. I smiled gently and mentioned my name being ‘Aquira’ again, feeling slightly awkward.

He smile shyly and told me his name was Robbie.