Useless Dresses

I’d never been so anxious.

Starting school had never made me nervous before. In fact, I usually felt so indifferent about school I’d forget to go. Maybe it’s my new state of mind. The fact that I care now. The fact that I’m getting a second chance at this—at life.

How out of character I felt.

The sky ran out of snow to throw down at me last night, just as I snuggled into bed. Now it lay in heaps on the ground, taking every ray of sunlight it could find and reflecting it back into the morning air. It disoriented me when I first stepped outside, but as my eyes grew used to the intensity I began to appreciate the little warmth the sun created.

“You ready for this?” I asked my sister as the school bus rolled to a stop in front of our house. Our new home sat on the corner of the street, beside the stop sign that marked our neighborhood’s bus stop. Three other teenagers stood in front of us, attempting to hide their stares as they wondered about us. None of the three introduced themselves, and neither Emily nor I was in the mood to initiate the introductions.

“Nope,” Emily muttered, glaring at one of the teenagers who glanced back at us one too many times. She looked pretty today, in gray corduroys and a pale pink blouse. A long black coat covered most of her outfit, and she let her curly hair down this morning, letting it keep her neck and ears warm. “The people here don’t seem too nice.”

“Maybe they’re just shy,” I said somewhat truthfully. Emily snorted in response as we climbed into the bus, finding open seats before we could be noticed. Only a handful of other students sat on the bus—most sleeping or doing homework.

“Didn’t Dad promise you a car before we moved?” Emily muttered, pulling a tangle of headphones out of her purse. She attempted to make sense of the mess, but seemed to give up after a few frustrated seconds.

“I wouldn’t be able to drive in this mess, anyway,” I admitted, staring out the frosted window. The snow had sucked all the color out of the city, leaving a wintery wasteland behind.

I took the bus ride as a chance to collect my thoughts one last time before having them scattered around the whole school. I thought about how nice I would be to everyone. I thought about the teachers who wouldn’t hear a jumble of Pig Latin when they asked me a question, and all the homework I was absolutely determined to turn in.

We arrived at school just as I was imagining a proud Denny at the next “meet-the-teacher” night.

“I’m not going in there,” Emily said as the bus screeched to a halt. She scribbled her name into the condensation coating her water bottle and sat firmly in her seat.

“You’ll make new friends, Em,” I said. “It’s only school. ‘Snot that intimidating.”

“Trying to convince yourself of that?” Emily asked, and only then did I notice my hands balled up into white fists on my legs. They looked like snowballs, actually. “What’s so funny?” Emily demanded when I burst into a laugh. I tried to respond to my little sister, about my weird snowball fists, but I felt a little hysterical suddenly and couldn’t get the words out. “You don’t have to make fun of me, you know,” she fumed, lifting herself up finally and stomping out of the bus.

“Hey, wait!” I tried to call after her, but the way my voice cracked in laughter didn’t help. I scrambled after Emily, but she was already lost in the crowd of teenagers. At least my outburst got her to go inside.

I felt bad about making my sister feel bad. It made a cruddy start to my first day of not getting on peoples’ bad sides. But I also felt less nervous now, and I pulled out my new schedule ready to set the day on fire.

Now this is when my story really starts. I can’t really explain it—that feeling of jumbled perfection, like I was setting off on a dream vacation without checking the make sure I packed everything important. It happened just before first period. The school had sent my sister and me our schedules and maps to help us find our ways around the massive buildings, but other than that we were on our own. I admit I expected more support from the administration—Denny said they probably didn’t have time for us with so many students to keep up with. Some educational system.

My map wasn’t really helping me out. I saw the room on the paper—274, right there between 273 and 275—but the supposed classroom was dark and without any sort of room number branding it as a classroom. I heaved a sigh, knowing very well how melodramatic I looked and hoping it would attract some sort of attention.

It didn’t.

I scuffled around the hallway lost and confused until the tardy bell rang, leaving me stranded. I began to wonder why I hadn’t just asked someone to show me to the room—I would have done that at my old school without any hesitation. But I didn’t want to give a bad first impression. For the first time, I understood Emily’s growling about her social life—I also understood being tardy for my first class would make a very bad first impression indeed.

“You look lost. Are you new?” a slightly deep voice boomed behind me, making me whirl around in hopes a teacher hadn’t stumbled upon me. He was taller than me by about three inches—very surprising, considering my height. He was skinny, too, like he smoked too much and didn’t eat enough. And he was very much not a teacher. “Ah, you got Stevens too,” he smiled, looking over my shoulder to the schedule I clutched in my hands. I noticed his eyes—the color of dark wrought iron—and the matching waves of hair falling onto his shoulders.

“Thanks,” I told my guide as we walked toward the classroom together—or I followed him toward the classroom like a stray puppy. “I worried I might never find this class.”

“Don’t mention it. There was an…” he paused for a moment, seeming to gather his words. “accident a few weeks ago, and they’re repairing some of the lab equipment. We’re in a portable until they finish.”

After walking through some slushy snow, we arrived at the classroom and he turned to shake my hand. “I’m rich.”

“Oh? Me too,” I responded automatically, shaking his hand quickly. He gave me a questioning look before I realized my blunder. I covered my face with my freezing hands, preferring the cold to the embarrassment of looking Rich in the face.

“I mean I’m Kate. My name is Katelyn. I’m sorry, I thought you meant—”

“Hey yea, I know. It’s cool.” I could tell he was trying his best to be polite, though the grin creeping at the corners of his mouth only embarrassed me more. But his voice sounded somewhat sincere, so I felt a little grateful to him.

“I’m not this empty-headed usually,” I said. I also don’t usually embarrass easily, and I’m also not usually very worried about getting to class—but I didn’t say those things, because I already seemed like a bit of a freak. He just shrugged and grabbed the door handle.

Then, after class, he made sure I knew where to go and even said “catch ya later” before leaving. It felt a little weird, honestly. Good weird. Maybe. I wanted to crawl into a janitor’s closet and strut through the halls like a supermodel at the same time, but I felt like I’d made progress—that is, if I hadn’t been sent back two spaces at the same time.