Silhouettes

I managed to maneuver my way through the crowd of people and get to the main office in one piece. It was definitely quieter then the hallway and for that I was thankful. There were three desks situated around the small room. At one desk sat Mrs. Moy, an old woman with glasses much too big for her face, looking through a stack of papers with an anxious expression on her aged face. At another, a woman not too much younger than the first who I didn’t recognize sat talking on the phone while typing away on her computer keyboard with long, red manicured nails. At the last desk, another familiar face was talking to a student with a bored look in her eyes. Mrs. Higgins was not a woman to mess with. Her hair was just a shade shy of pure white, her face always caked with bright colored makeup. She had deep wrinkles around the corners of her mouth, making her frown seem to sink down to her chin. She had no sympathy for anyone and made it clear that she hated her job every year and was counting the days down to her retirement.

I stepped up behind the small girl who was currently talking to her, clearly a freshman with a schedule issue, waiting until it was my turn.

“I don’t think you understand. This is not the freshman guidance office. We don’t handle schedule issues; we just hand them out. You’ll have to pick up a form in room B2, the freshman guidance room, and they will deal with it.”

“All I’m asking is that-“

“Look young lady, today is the first day of school. I assure you that you are not the only one with a problem. Therefore, you have no reason to be freaking out right now.”

“But if you could just-“

“That’s all I have to say about this. Who’s next?” Mrs. Higgins leaned to her left, looking around the frantic girl in front of me, who let out an exasperated sigh and slumped out of the office, her crumpled schedule held tightly in her hands.

“What can I do for you?”

“Um, I just need to pick up my schedule,” I spoke, my voice coming out barely above a whisper.

“Name and grade?” She asked, turning to a pile of papers on her desk.

“Grace Rivera, grade 12.”

She paused in her movements, looking up at me through her eyelashes. She cleared her throat uncomfortably and nodded her head, digging through the many sheets of paper. After shuffling for a few seconds, she handed me my schedule, a map, and my locker info, the sad look still on her face.

“Have a good year.”

I took all my papers from her and exited the office, noticing a few other students had lined up behind me now. I walked back out into the chaotic hallway that seemed to have filled up with even more people than before. Lucky for me, I hadn’t forgotten my way around the school in the short year of my absence. There wasn’t anything different about the building; each hallway still had the same murals on the walls and the room numbers hadn’t changed. Even if I did, it wouldn’t be hard to figure out where my rooms are; it’s pretty basic, just following the numbers above each door. I made my way to the senior hallway, looking back and forth for my locker.

Once I found it, I opened it up just to be sure it worked and placed my backpack on one of the hooks, grabbing my folder filled with paper, my book, and a single blue pen. I slammed the door shut and slipped the lock back through the hoop. The bell suddenly rang, the obnoxious sound ringing for a few short seconds. The hallways cleared in no time, and before I realized it, they were basically empty minus a few stragglers, and I was alone.

I took a big breath, mentally preparing myself for what I was in for. Looking down at my schedule, I saw that I had English first with Mr. Barnes. English was always my best subject. I never understood how anyone can fail it. It was all basic information; if you can speak, read, and write, you can pass a class that is all about speaking, reading, and writing.

Soon, enough, I made it to my English classroom, room 213. The door was already open and when I stepped in, I saw that most of the seats had already been taken. A group of guys sat in the back left corner eating and throwing paper balls at each other. A huddle of three girls sat in the very front, hunched close together, whispering and giggling like two year olds. A few people sat alone throughout the room, though it seemed that everyone had someone to talk to.

I spotted three available seats; one right in the front between two girls, one in the far right corner of the room next to the windows, and one in the third row, between a guy and a girl. I chose the window seat, slipping between the various desks until I reached mine, placing my folder down on the cold surface and slouching into the seat, crossing my arms and sighing. I knew today was going to be a challenge, but I didn’t expect it to make me feel so empty and alone. I no longer had anyone to talk to and the stares and whispers coming from everyone around me made my anxiety levels raise ten-fold. I tried to take a deep breath and calm myself, though my efforts were futile. Almost as though they could sense my discomfort and wanted to make it worse, the group of girls in the front all turned around at the same time to stare at me. I stared back for a minute before glancing away, ignoring the way they laughed out loud.

Blowing it off, I opened my book to where I had marked it with a single piece of red, satin string that came attached to the book binding and began to read.

“Veronika had decided to die on that lovely Ljubljana afternoon, with Bolivian musicians playing in the square, with a young man passing by her window, and she was happy with what her eyes could see and her ears could hear. She was-”

“Alright everyone, sit down and shut up.” I looked up at the strong male voice and saw a balding man walking up to the desk in the front, placing his brief case on the floor, a smile on his face. “I’ve dealt with you delinquents since you were all freshman, and can I just say one thing?” He continued. I closed my book, sitting up in my seat as every quieted down. “I cannot wait for all of you to get the hell out of here.”

The class erupted into laughter; apparently this teacher was both well-known and well liked. He gestured for everyone to settle down before speaking again.

“Okay, okay, be quiet now. I promise you that I won’t be a hard ass when it comes to assignments, but we will have to do work every once in a while.” A collective groan came from every student in the room, Mr. Barnes rolling his eyes with a smirk. “Don’t whine. This class will be nothing compared to what college will have in store for you.”

As Mr. Barnes continued, the classroom door slammed open, all eyes immediately going to the two figures standing in the doorway. In a flash, every girl in the room perked up, their hands instantly trying to make sure their hair was perfect and all of them lowered their shirts so that the neck line was basically down to their belly buttons.

The two boys in the doorway strolled into the room, smiling over at Mr. Barnes who simply rolled his eyes.

“Barakat, Gaskarth. Please don’t tell me you’re in my class.”

“Oh, but we are Mr. B. Fourth year in a row; fate must be on your side,” one of the boys chirped, clapping a hand on Mr. Barnes back.

“Just sit down and let me begin my class,” Mr. Barnes said, shrugging off the boy’s hand. “And don’t be late for my class again. I won’t hesitate to write you up, record deal or no record deal.”

Jack and Alex both chuckled, though I was more than confused, and they turned to find a seat amongst the rows of desks. I sighed when I realized that one of them was going to be sitting next to me since there were only two empty seats left in the room – one to my right and one two rows over, second to last seat.
I ignored them as they moved through the rows and turned to pay attention as best as I could to the words coming out of Mr. Barnes’ mouth. He was babbling on about grading techniques, classroom rules and expectations, following along with the syllabus that had been placed on each of the desks. Eventually, I tuned him out, not really caring for what he was to say at the moment, since it was all menial stuff kids hear on the first day of school every year.

“Hi! I’m Jack!”

I turned to the sound of a whispered name, the boy with mostly black hair, minus a single yellow streak that I thought fit him nicely, sat, smiling at me, his brown eyes shining. I felt the desire, one that I hadn’t felt in a while, to talk to him, simply from the baby look he was giving me, but I resisted. Instead I stared a bit longer before opening my book to where I had left off, completely ignoring the skunk-haired stranger.

“Are you new here?”

I again, ignored the question.

“I don’t recognize you, so I’m assuming you are.”

When was he going to get the hint that I had no intention of answering to him?

“You’re not much of a talker are you?”

“What gave you that I idea?” I muttered, annoyed.

“Ah, she speaks!”

I glanced at him. He was leaning forward on his desk, his head in his hand, staring over at me with a goofy grin.

“Barakat, would you stop disrupting my class and corrupting my students? Don’t make me throw you out on the first day of school.”

“There’s no corrupting going on over here, Mr. B. I’m simply introducing myself.”

“Well, introduce yourself, after class.”

Jack waved him off, leaning back in his seat with a smirk. A boy next to him laughed, leaning over to give Jack’s arm a shove.

I just shook my head discretely, turning back to my book. The class droned on and on about mindless things I already knew about. I could sense the occasional stare and glance; it was nothing I hadn’t quickly gotten used to nor was it out of the ordinary at this point. I made it through my next four classes with the same silent demeanor and only a few side-ways glances. Thankfully, no one said anything to me. In fact, most people barely acknowledged my presence. The rest of the day dragged on for what seemed like forever. By the time lunch rolled around 5th period, I was seriously considering online schooling, or the Peace Corps. Anything was better than having to sit through all these classes again. It can drive a person mad just watching the hands of the clock move agonizingly slow, ticking away like the beats of heart, almost tauntingly.

After stopping at my locker for my backpack, I didn’t bother heading into the cafeteria and instead made my way to the outside garden where the juniors and seniors were allowed to go for lunch and study hall. Most people had already claimed their spots with their friends, so I chose to sit in the far corner of the brick wall, against a tall Maple tree, its leaves blowing in the cool afternoon breeze. I sat down, leaning against the tree trunk and took out the water bottle and granola bars I had packed this morning, along with my book and cell phone. Of course, I had no messages to read so I just put my phone in my pocket and turned to my book, munching away on my small lunch.

“She decided not to think about the stabbing paints in her stomach and tried to concentrate on the rapidly falling night, on the Bolivians, on the people who were starting to shut up their shops and go home. The noise in her ears was becoming more and more strident, and, for the first time since she had taken the pills, Veronika felt fear, a terrible fear of the unknown.

It did not last long. Soon afterward, she lost consciousness.”

“You’re Grace Rivera right?”

I had been reading for nearly twenty minutes before a voice interrupted me. I looked up to see a tall girl with blonde hair and glasses looking down at me, her hands on her hips and an empty look on her face.

“Um, yeah, I am.”

She looked over her shoulder to a group of guys and girls, nodding her head their direction. Some nodded their head back, some looked over at me; they all began to murmur.

“I’m sorry about Adam.”

It took every ounce of strength I had not to either break down and cry or jump up and punch her. I didn’t answer, choosing to just nod and look down instead. The more people that brought up Adam, the more I began to sink into myself. When would people learn that asking me about him is anything but common courtesy? I was no longer hungry, and instead, I threw the half eaten granola bar away and put the unopened one back in my bag.

The bell rang anyway, so I just stood up, dusting off my back and made my way back inside. I walked, keeping my eyes trained on my feet, not wanting to see all the eyes watching my every move. When I made it to my 6th period classroom, the room was still mostly empty, so I took a seat in the back corner. Eventually, the class filled up and the teacher walked in, her meek voice barely being heard about the rowdy class.

I heaved an empty sigh and leaned back in the cold, plastic chair, drumming my fingers against my jean clad leg anxiously. Through the course of the day, I was met with nothing more than teachers already anticipating the class to be horribly behaved and a group of kids that proved the teachers right. And if that wasn’t bad enough, I forgot to take my Provigil so my energy is seriously running low. All I need is a nice cup of coffee and a single white pill.

A crumpled piece of paper hit me in the side of my face, disrupting my train of thought. My eyes flashed towards the direction where the projectile came from, landing on that Alex boy from my English class, a hand on his mouth, trying to hide the cheeky smile that I could clearly see. As I stared, his eyes flashed over to mine. He nodded down at the paper on my desk, sending me a wink before looking up at the teacher. I groaned inaudibly and sat up in my chair, opening the paper up to see messy scribbled handwriting. Through his chicken scratch writing, I managed to make out what he wrote.

Hi, I'm Alex. What's your name? :)

I contemplated responding. I didn’t know this Alex very well; actually, I didn’t know him at all, but something told me that he wasn’t going to give up if I didn’t just respond now.

So, despite what my gut told me, I quickly wrote down my name and tossed the paper ball at him, hitting his nose. He shot me a smile and picked up the paper, reading my response and sending it back my way. I smiled apologetically at the guy next to me as it landed in his hair. He pulled it from his fro, slamming it down on my desk with a frown before going back to watching what the teacher was writing on the board.

Grace, that's pretty.

Ur new right?

I scoffed at his abbreviation of the word ‘you’re’. Everyone seemed to assume I was new. Had I really become that ghost-like to everyone?

I quickly jotted down a ‘no’ and threw the paper back at him. I glanced at the clock and saw that we only had a few minutes left. I couldn’t wait to get out of here. Just thinking about being in my warm comfortable bed made me sigh in delight. And then the reminder that today was only Monday and I’d had have to return again tomorrow hit me, and I groaned, placing my head down on my desk. I grabbed the gold locket around my neck, rolling the small, gold heart around in my fingers absentmindedly.

The note landed on my desk again. I sighed and lifted the paper up, unrolling the crumbled ball.

Really? I don’t remember you and I never forget a pretty face ;)

I rolled my eyes at his 'kindness'. I should have known he would try to get close to me. I couldn’t allow him, or anyone else for that matter, to do that though. It would be in everyone’s, especially my own, best interest to keep their distance. If this Alex was going to try and be my friend, he’d have to try a lot harder than that anyway.

I scribbled down my final response as the bell rang. I jumped out of my chair, tossing the paper ball at Alex who caught it in his hands after juggling it for a second. I didn’t look back to see his response as he read what I wrote. I quickly exited the classroom and out of the building as fast as my feet could move.

You only remember those who are worth remembering