Remember What Went Wrong

The red brick walls towering above, the single flag pole proudly displaying the American flag and the hundreds of students flocking to their first class were only a few of the things that made me want to scream.

This was my seventh time transferring schools in eight years, and I was sick of it.

But it was my senior year, which was a plus considering that I wouldn’t have to switch high schools after I graduated.

Then I would go to Yale, marry a handsome lawyer and live happily ever after. Period.

There was no way my happily ever after was happening it seemed, if I was going to be educated in the hideous building in front of me.

After all, it was nothing like my previous school, which embraced the modernised look of tinted glass, geometric shapes and multiple stories.

I perched my sunglasses on my head, digging in my messenger bag for my registration papers.

After my father announced that we would be moving, I was devastated. After all, Texas was finally becoming a home to me.

I would give anything to go back to Dallas, to have friends that I could talk to, to have a sense of security that I had a firm place in the social ladder.

I had actually made a decent set of friends, unlike the school I attended in Boston where I was called ‘fire truck’ for my entire sophomore year.

Sure, I had red hair, but that didn’t mean I had to be compared to a giant vehicle.

This school was a chance for a new start, and by now I was confident enough to take each moment in stride.

Something was intimidating about seniors though; they had been in that building for many years, they knew what happened and when, and they were on top of everybody else. I was new, and I just hoped that I would find some friends that were actually nice to me.

Glancing at the horrible building in disdain once again, I peered at the registration form.

“What is this,” I thought aloud, looking between the crumpled sheet in my hand and the building, “the Salvation Army?”

A low chuckle erupted from my left, causing me to jump.

I turned around to see a boy around my age, with highlighted dirty blonde hair that covering his ears and forehead. His defined eyebrows were thick, and could barely be seen from beneath his bangs, which ended just above his left eye.

The soft autumn breeze had caused his hair to stick up in different directions, though his bangs seemed to stay on his forehead perfectly. He wore a simple green t-shirt and jeans, and had a white backpack slung over one shoulder.

His eyes were warm and brown, drawing me in slowly, and for a moment I forgot to breathe.

After that moment was over and my instincts kicked in, I was forced to gasp for oxygen, causing me to choke.

After letting out many unattractive noises to clear my throat, practically doubling over in my spot, and having the mystery boy ask if I was okay about one hundred times, I managed to stand upright once again, trying to calm my flushed face.

Just another reason to be called ‘fire truck’.

How amazing I must have looked, turning red as I choked and hacked, squirming back and forth in place like a fugitive from an asylum.

What a wonderful first impression I must have made. I silently applauded myself in my mind, feeling my face finally begin to cool down.

“You’re funny,” the boy laughed, causing my stomach to drop in fear that I was being made fun of. Noticing my expression, he stopped. “Not literally.” He explained softly, ignoring the fact that my face was still bright red. “And it’s not the Salvation Army, it’s Dulaney High School. I’m guessing you’re new?” I nodded, figuring that it wouldn’t be the best idea to speak at the moment. “I’m Alex, Alex Gaskarth.”

“Audrey Sinclair,” I croaked out, clearing my throat once again.

Alex smirked, before taking the registration papers from my hand. “You need to go to the office in order to get your schedule, though the secretary there is a bitch.”

My eyebrows shot up in surprise, probably disappearing into my messy red bangs.

“What do you mean?” I asked, feeling nervous once again.

I was supposed to be confident. Not a blabbering mess. I could be anyone I wanted here, and I had already given off the impression as a stuttering fool.

“She’s just mean to everyone,” Alex said, handing me back my papers with a faint smile. “You’re from Texas?”

“A lot of places, actually...” I sighed, not bothering to explain my life to this stranger.Even if he was cute.

Alex raised a questioning brow, curious about my mysterious answer. Once Alex realized that I wasn’t going to say anything more, he gestured towards the building.

“I’ll show you to the office, if you want.” He cleared his throat, fidgeting with the his backpack strap.

“Thanks,” I murmured, not bothering to explain that I already knew the procedure.

After all, if a cute boy offers to show you around, you don’t complain. I followed Alex silently, since he was the one doing all the talking, to a small set of double doors near the back of the school.

He didn’t bother to knock, and instead pushed the door open with a surprising amount of force, causing the secretary to look up in surprise.

Once realizing that it was only Alex, she turned back to her computer.

“Morning Shelley!” Alex chirped, stepping into the room. “You’re looking absolutely lovely this fine morning.”

‘Shelley’ did so much as to bat an eye. It was obvious that Alex was using a large amount of sarcasm, which made it even funnier.

After all, Shelley was no beauty.

Her skin told the secrets of her age, indicating that she was in her late forties or early fifties. Her face sagged, her eyes had bags under them, and her dull brown hair was piled atop her head in a neat bun. She wore a cheap polyester suit, the color of a lilac.

It was obvious that she was beautiful when she was younger, but those days were far from over.

Shelley continued to type on her computer, ignoring Alex completely.

“Watch it Mr. Gaskarth.” She drawled monotonously, not looking up from the glowing screen. “You’re going to break the plant pots if you keep opening the door like that.”

I walked up timidly, waving slightly, though the secretary did not bother to glance in my direction.

“Excuse me, Miss...” I trailed off, figuring that Shelley was her first name. I glanced at the small plaque on her desk, and sure enough, it read Shelley Freeman, Secretary. “Freeman. I’m, um, new here...”

“Uh-huh,” Ms. Freeman yawned, tapping on the desk with her bright pink acrylic nails.

“...And, uh, I think I’m supposed to give you, erm, my registration papers.”

I stared at her, as she did not reply. After the walls of sound closed in on us and an awkward silence filled the air, she opened her mouth.

“Well, hand them over then.”Shelley Ms. Freeman snapped impatiently.

“What?” I asked, confused. “Oh, right, um, registration papers.”

I had no idea why I was so nervous about this, since I had done it seven times before, but with Alex standing in the corner chuckling quietly at my bright red face, I began to wish I was back in Texas.

I finally found the registration papers and handed them to Ms. Freeman with shaky hands. She barely glanced at them before pulling out a stack of papers and sliding them towards me on the counter.

“This is your locker number, your schedule and everything else you need. Don’t lose it, because I’m not going to copy another one for you.”

“Wow Shelley, you’re so kind.” Alex grinned, laughing to himself.

“You’re late for class,” she narrowed her eyes at him finally tearing her eyes away from the computer, “ and I assume that you don’t want me to contact Mr. Warner and let him know who spray painted his car last year, do you, Mr. Gaskarth?”

Alex’s smile dropped off his face instantly, and he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Well played Shelley, well played.” He cast a quick glance at me, before nodding towards the door. “Ready?”

“Yeah,” I grabbed my papers, before glancing at my schedule. It said I had calculus. Wonderful. “Um, thank you, uh, Ms. Freeman.”

“Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.” She hissed, turning back to her computer, no doubt playing a game of Solitaire instead of doing something official.

After Alex closed the door behind us, we walked around aimlessly, though I assumed that Alex knew where we going.

“Do you see what I mean?” He asked, after a moment of comfortable silence filled the air. “About Shelley?”

“I thought she was nice,” he scoffed at my answer, sending me an incredulous look.

“And alligators are nice before they eat your toes off.”

“That doesn’t happen in real life.”

“Sure.” Alex shrugged, stopping in front of a door. “You have calculus now, right?”

“Yeah, why?” He gestured towards the door before looking at my schedule.

Sure enough, the room number on my paper for calculus matched the room number on the door in front of us.

“Thanks Alex,” I grinned, putting my hand on the doorknob. Class had already started at least fifteen minutes ago, but I was sure that the teacher would excuse me as I was the new kid. They always did. “For everything.”

“No problem,” he grinned, leaning in slightly, and I felt my knees go weak. He was even cuter the closer he got. “I have trig now, so I have to go thataway.” He gestured around the corner, indicating that he would have to leave me by myself. “You’re welcome to sit with us at lunch, if you want. Eden and Kara will be there, so it’s not an all-guys table.”

Immediately, my mind concluded that one of those girls were his girlfriend, but I kept my mouth shut. It wasn’t like I could ask him if he had a girlfriend.

He glanced at the clock, meaning that he was anxious to go to class. Some small part of me wanted Alex to be in the same class as me, so then I could actually have a friend. If I could count him as a friend.

Apparently, that wouldn’t work out how I planned it to.

Alex and I said our goodbyes and as he rounded the corner, I attempted to tame the butterflies flying around in my stomach.

Taking a deep breath, I pulled open the doorknob to be greeted by forty forty six pairs of eyes staring back at me. They all turned to look at me at once, causing my to shift uncomfortably in my spot.

“Are you new?” Some kid shouted, causing a chorus of whispers to echo through the room.

I paused. Now I was feeling more uncomfortable than I ever had in my high school life. But this time, I was determined for it not to show.

Welcome to Dulaney High School, Audrey.