Status: Active.
It's Classy, Not Classic.
Highschool, I'm at the bottom of the foodchain.
Feet fit firmly on the ground with the soles of my converse flatly pressed to the concrete beneath them, my bag slung over my shoulder by one of the straps. Tight black jeans, my black hoodie and black fingernails clashing against the bright white of my plain tee shirt and the bright yellow of my shoes. I had to be honest with myself; my knees were shaking under the weight of myself, and the lump in my throat continued to grow while my hands shaked, fingers twitching nervously. I gulped at that uncomfortable lump lodged firmly into my throat and ran a hand back through my jaggedly cut, brown -- with practically unnoticeable gold strands --coloured bangs, pulling them off my forehead for a moment before they flopped back down over it. I ruffled my hair a little, probably messing it up acceptabley, and scratched at the back of my neck, biting at my lip as if contemplating going into the large building infront of me with a million rooms. It wasn't unusual for a kid like me to be nervous for their first day of highschool.
People passed me, not bothering to acknowledge my trembling form, and continued with their casual chatter while they made their way into the school. I continued mentally telling myself everything would work out fine, and that if I could get through this one day I could get through every single one of them ahead of me. The worst part of this was I really didn't know if I could even survive my first day, because no doubt it'd be toughest when it was supposed to be the easiest. I was expected to make a whole bunch of new friends, and all of this would have been much easier if I had an actual friend by my side going to this school as well, so that atleast I wouldn't be alone. But, in fact, I was just that. Alone for the ride, and to make things worse I was incredibly socially awkward when it came to meeting people. I was, honestly, a ditzy little brunette with a mouth that had a mind of its own. I wasn't surprised at how much I regretted it when I actually set foot inside the school after stepping through the doors, because what layed before me was a sea of people, rushing and shoving by eachother, obnoxiously loud talking bouncings off the walls and echoing a million times through the hall over every other persons voice, which just added to the talking even more since it had some sort of illusion that more people were talking then the amount that actually were.
I tried to gulp at the lump in my throat and failed, so instead I urged my feet forward and started walking, the squeaking noise my shoes were probably making against the linoleum floor drowned out by the loud chitchat as I squeezed myself into the ocean of people, trying to squish by people who shoved me back and forth, walking by without a word as if I weren't even there. I groaned and continued to shove my way through, grabbing the crumpled map of the school and my class schedules from my pocket and trying to flatten them out.
I had to go to English, so atleast it was one of my favourite subjects I'd be starting off on. I was good at english, or atleast thats what my report cards told me -- and thats why I was taking advanced english. I was having my first class of my very first year with a bunch of aggressive, angsty seniors. That didn't help to calm my nerves one bit.
Despite all of the strange looks I'd gotten from the few students already in the class talking when I waltzed on into the classroom after paying a visit to my locker, that room was alot better then the pushing and shoving of the hallway traffic. The bell rang when I took my seat at the front, and I took a seat at the front since the older kids were at the back, giving me odd glares as if warnings not to venture back there. Needless to say I was terrified, and so in the heat of the moment I nervously and quickly slipped into the seat in the front row in the corner closest to the window. I dropped my bag beside my desk and propped my elbow up onto the table, resting my jaw on my palm and staring out the window that allowed bright morning sunlight to flood into the room. While I continued to assure myself that I wouldn't get myself killed, my mind also thought of everything that would be expected of me.
Soon students were all seated in desks, the seat beside me empty unlike the one behind me, so considering the students didn't seemed as freaked out by me as they did curious I assumed there was someone either late, or it was an extra desk. A young man with messy dark hair and tanned skin came in wearing a grey button down shirt with the few top buttons undone, along with casual dark blue jeans and a pair of hightop sneakers. I was surprised to see how casual he dressed, but I suppose it wasn't that weird since he still seemed pretty young. He didn't look old at all.
He stopped beside his desk and went through a few papers on it before his gaze lifted up to us, revealing his big blue eyes. He smiled crookedly, "Hello." He started, "I'm your new english teacher, Mr. Dunne." He told us, and continued to introduce himself until he stopped at the sound of shoes coming closer to the room. Everyones gazes, including mine and the teachers, darted at the door as a boy, who was evidently a senior, popped up in the doorway. Black hair from his side fringe falling in his big hazel doe eyes, a ring in the right side of his lower lip and a ring in his left nostril, along with the small black gauges in his ears. Thin but oddly cute lips, his extremely lightly tanned skin almost completely clothed in black -- black jeans, black sneakers, a tight black shirt, with the exception of a red hoodie overtop.
He gave a nervous laugh, and his grip on the strap of his bag on his shoulder noticingly tightened and tensed. The teacher stared at the boy for a few seconds before he let out a deep sigh, "Take a seat." He told him, probably trying to ignore the fact that the boy was late on his first day back to school. The boy gave a small sigh and shuffled in, shoulders slumped over. He stopped for a brief second, searching for a seat in the back before giving up and sliding into the seat beside me, giving me a brief curious glance, as if to point out to me that I didn't belong here. But that doesn't matter, who the hell is late for their first day back to school?
After continuously receiving odd glances from the nameless black haired boy the bell rang and I gathered my shit together and bolted out of the classroom, completely relieved that I've even survived highschool this far into the day. By the time I made it to lunch, I was even more relieved to have that hour to get out of the stuffy school. Although, the usually crowded halls were surprisingly completely empty when class was in session. I busted out of the entrance of the school I'd come in from and gave a sigh, quickly walking over to a tree and collapsing underneath the shade of it. I wasn't hungry, and even if I was it didn't matter. I wasn't eating in that cafeteria. But even under that tree, with other kids coming outside and taking seats in their groups near the football field and such, I felt eyes watching me curiously. To find somewhere to get the pressure of their gazes off of me, I hopped back up onto my feet and quickly fled toward the back of the school. When I turned the corner though, to the back. I stopped after stepping around.
There was the boy with hazel eyes dressed in black, his bag at his feet while he leaned back on the brick wall, taking a drag from a cigarette before exhaling a big cloud of smoke and turning his gaze casually to me. We stared at eachother for what seemed like forever, when in reality it was probably only a few seconds. His eyes trailed up and down my body and he gave an amused chuckle under his breath, smiling a little and looking back forward, muttering something about 'fresh meat' and taking another drag from his cigarette. I stood for another moment, confused at what to do. My first priority was to come back here to get away, but as it turns out someone had already claimed the spot that I wanted. And they were leaning on the wall there, smoking their cigarette casually as if I weren't even there. I opened my mouth to speak a few times repeatedly before actually speaking, "I'll just... go." I mumbled slowly, almost hesitantly, and he gave another laugh, his gaze turning back to me.
"I don't bite, you know." He pointed out with an amused tone, a small mischevious smirk taking its place on his lips, "Hard, atleast." And I accidentally gave a weird laugh under my breath at his incredibly cliche joke and casually took a step back, slipping my hands into the back pockets of my jeans. "You're that girl from English, the brainiac freshmen."
"And you're that guy that was late for English, that weird guy with bad timing." I retorted automatically, my snappy and sarcastic attitude shining through in my reply on its own.
"Touche." He rejoindered, his gaze randomly turning back to space infront of him, looking nowhere in specific. He took another drag from his cigarette and let out another exhale of smoke.
"I'm not a brainiac, either." I corrected him after a few moments, surprising myself with how calm I seemed talking to him, although the nerves still twisted in my gut at the same time. I guess knowing I was actually making conversation with someone, someone who was a senior, was kind of soothing, because atleast now I knew I wasn't a complete social outcast. I started to freak out though, and panic, sudden realization that I was actually talking to a senior, something freshmen do not at all do on a regular basis, being that twelveth graders are intimidating and all. Plus, this senior in particular kind of scared me, along with intimidating me, although he didn't seem to care that I was a freshmen, the reason I had no idea -- it was beyond me.
I felt my feet wanting to make a run for it, to book it out of there and avoid making a fool of myself, and I automatically made up a lie to get myself out of this conversation to protect myself from screwing myself over, "I've got to go." I stuttered quickly, mentally smacking myself and silently telling myself that that wasn't a lie, and his eyes once again flicked over to me, some sort of weird innocence in them regardless of the fact he was just smoking, and I doubted he was a virgin anyway. "Uhh, l-later." I mumbled, before spinning around and bolting off back around the corner, quickly trying to make my way somewhere where I could be alone and out of the different scenarios of trouble I could get myself into to screw up my social life. High school is going to be loads of fun.
People passed me, not bothering to acknowledge my trembling form, and continued with their casual chatter while they made their way into the school. I continued mentally telling myself everything would work out fine, and that if I could get through this one day I could get through every single one of them ahead of me. The worst part of this was I really didn't know if I could even survive my first day, because no doubt it'd be toughest when it was supposed to be the easiest. I was expected to make a whole bunch of new friends, and all of this would have been much easier if I had an actual friend by my side going to this school as well, so that atleast I wouldn't be alone. But, in fact, I was just that. Alone for the ride, and to make things worse I was incredibly socially awkward when it came to meeting people. I was, honestly, a ditzy little brunette with a mouth that had a mind of its own. I wasn't surprised at how much I regretted it when I actually set foot inside the school after stepping through the doors, because what layed before me was a sea of people, rushing and shoving by eachother, obnoxiously loud talking bouncings off the walls and echoing a million times through the hall over every other persons voice, which just added to the talking even more since it had some sort of illusion that more people were talking then the amount that actually were.
I tried to gulp at the lump in my throat and failed, so instead I urged my feet forward and started walking, the squeaking noise my shoes were probably making against the linoleum floor drowned out by the loud chitchat as I squeezed myself into the ocean of people, trying to squish by people who shoved me back and forth, walking by without a word as if I weren't even there. I groaned and continued to shove my way through, grabbing the crumpled map of the school and my class schedules from my pocket and trying to flatten them out.
I had to go to English, so atleast it was one of my favourite subjects I'd be starting off on. I was good at english, or atleast thats what my report cards told me -- and thats why I was taking advanced english. I was having my first class of my very first year with a bunch of aggressive, angsty seniors. That didn't help to calm my nerves one bit.
Despite all of the strange looks I'd gotten from the few students already in the class talking when I waltzed on into the classroom after paying a visit to my locker, that room was alot better then the pushing and shoving of the hallway traffic. The bell rang when I took my seat at the front, and I took a seat at the front since the older kids were at the back, giving me odd glares as if warnings not to venture back there. Needless to say I was terrified, and so in the heat of the moment I nervously and quickly slipped into the seat in the front row in the corner closest to the window. I dropped my bag beside my desk and propped my elbow up onto the table, resting my jaw on my palm and staring out the window that allowed bright morning sunlight to flood into the room. While I continued to assure myself that I wouldn't get myself killed, my mind also thought of everything that would be expected of me.
Soon students were all seated in desks, the seat beside me empty unlike the one behind me, so considering the students didn't seemed as freaked out by me as they did curious I assumed there was someone either late, or it was an extra desk. A young man with messy dark hair and tanned skin came in wearing a grey button down shirt with the few top buttons undone, along with casual dark blue jeans and a pair of hightop sneakers. I was surprised to see how casual he dressed, but I suppose it wasn't that weird since he still seemed pretty young. He didn't look old at all.
He stopped beside his desk and went through a few papers on it before his gaze lifted up to us, revealing his big blue eyes. He smiled crookedly, "Hello." He started, "I'm your new english teacher, Mr. Dunne." He told us, and continued to introduce himself until he stopped at the sound of shoes coming closer to the room. Everyones gazes, including mine and the teachers, darted at the door as a boy, who was evidently a senior, popped up in the doorway. Black hair from his side fringe falling in his big hazel doe eyes, a ring in the right side of his lower lip and a ring in his left nostril, along with the small black gauges in his ears. Thin but oddly cute lips, his extremely lightly tanned skin almost completely clothed in black -- black jeans, black sneakers, a tight black shirt, with the exception of a red hoodie overtop.
He gave a nervous laugh, and his grip on the strap of his bag on his shoulder noticingly tightened and tensed. The teacher stared at the boy for a few seconds before he let out a deep sigh, "Take a seat." He told him, probably trying to ignore the fact that the boy was late on his first day back to school. The boy gave a small sigh and shuffled in, shoulders slumped over. He stopped for a brief second, searching for a seat in the back before giving up and sliding into the seat beside me, giving me a brief curious glance, as if to point out to me that I didn't belong here. But that doesn't matter, who the hell is late for their first day back to school?
After continuously receiving odd glances from the nameless black haired boy the bell rang and I gathered my shit together and bolted out of the classroom, completely relieved that I've even survived highschool this far into the day. By the time I made it to lunch, I was even more relieved to have that hour to get out of the stuffy school. Although, the usually crowded halls were surprisingly completely empty when class was in session. I busted out of the entrance of the school I'd come in from and gave a sigh, quickly walking over to a tree and collapsing underneath the shade of it. I wasn't hungry, and even if I was it didn't matter. I wasn't eating in that cafeteria. But even under that tree, with other kids coming outside and taking seats in their groups near the football field and such, I felt eyes watching me curiously. To find somewhere to get the pressure of their gazes off of me, I hopped back up onto my feet and quickly fled toward the back of the school. When I turned the corner though, to the back. I stopped after stepping around.
There was the boy with hazel eyes dressed in black, his bag at his feet while he leaned back on the brick wall, taking a drag from a cigarette before exhaling a big cloud of smoke and turning his gaze casually to me. We stared at eachother for what seemed like forever, when in reality it was probably only a few seconds. His eyes trailed up and down my body and he gave an amused chuckle under his breath, smiling a little and looking back forward, muttering something about 'fresh meat' and taking another drag from his cigarette. I stood for another moment, confused at what to do. My first priority was to come back here to get away, but as it turns out someone had already claimed the spot that I wanted. And they were leaning on the wall there, smoking their cigarette casually as if I weren't even there. I opened my mouth to speak a few times repeatedly before actually speaking, "I'll just... go." I mumbled slowly, almost hesitantly, and he gave another laugh, his gaze turning back to me.
"I don't bite, you know." He pointed out with an amused tone, a small mischevious smirk taking its place on his lips, "Hard, atleast." And I accidentally gave a weird laugh under my breath at his incredibly cliche joke and casually took a step back, slipping my hands into the back pockets of my jeans. "You're that girl from English, the brainiac freshmen."
"And you're that guy that was late for English, that weird guy with bad timing." I retorted automatically, my snappy and sarcastic attitude shining through in my reply on its own.
"Touche." He rejoindered, his gaze randomly turning back to space infront of him, looking nowhere in specific. He took another drag from his cigarette and let out another exhale of smoke.
"I'm not a brainiac, either." I corrected him after a few moments, surprising myself with how calm I seemed talking to him, although the nerves still twisted in my gut at the same time. I guess knowing I was actually making conversation with someone, someone who was a senior, was kind of soothing, because atleast now I knew I wasn't a complete social outcast. I started to freak out though, and panic, sudden realization that I was actually talking to a senior, something freshmen do not at all do on a regular basis, being that twelveth graders are intimidating and all. Plus, this senior in particular kind of scared me, along with intimidating me, although he didn't seem to care that I was a freshmen, the reason I had no idea -- it was beyond me.
I felt my feet wanting to make a run for it, to book it out of there and avoid making a fool of myself, and I automatically made up a lie to get myself out of this conversation to protect myself from screwing myself over, "I've got to go." I stuttered quickly, mentally smacking myself and silently telling myself that that wasn't a lie, and his eyes once again flicked over to me, some sort of weird innocence in them regardless of the fact he was just smoking, and I doubted he was a virgin anyway. "Uhh, l-later." I mumbled, before spinning around and bolting off back around the corner, quickly trying to make my way somewhere where I could be alone and out of the different scenarios of trouble I could get myself into to screw up my social life. High school is going to be loads of fun.