The Punk Rock Princess & The Garage Band King

Golden Coast High School was just like the last I went to, whose name I wasn't allowed to say for theraputic purposes. Dr. Calvin thought it would be best for me to just forget my past and focus on my future. What he didn't realize was that it would be difficult considering all of my friends were at my old school, and I would get to see them on weekends.

GCHS was definitely quite a sight though. It was relatively close to the beach, and if you inhaled deep enough, you could almost taste the saltwater of the Pacific in the air. The majority of the school was made up of bungalows and "halls" which were a little like culdesacs that didn't have a dead end.

I was sort of frightened. I was excited because it was a new start, but scared because I was transferring in the 2nd semester. I felt like an awkward intruder when I walked on campus. People were nice, I suppose. They smiled at me, but I could see it in their eyes that I was just new meat. Only curious.

Picking up an old nervous habit, I plucked at the loose seams hanging from my cut-off denim shorts as I sat in the office waiting for my schedule. "Here you go, sweetie." Colleen says kindly to me as she hands me my schedule. I force a shaky smile as I look at my school map on the back of my binder, blindly making my way into my first period class.

Ten minutes later, I got to my first class. Graphic Design. The atmosphere was very relaxed, with dim lighting, music playing, and distracted teenagers getting lost in computer-developed art. I awkwardly stumbled to my teachers desk, tripping on loose wires along the way, silently scolding myself and my lack of grace.

Mr. Garfield was an older man, with salt and pepper hair on his head and chin, but his grin was unmistakable. His eyes crunched up in the corners, showing little hints at his age, but despite the age difference he came off as a very old friend.

"Hey sweetie! Newest addition to the class I suppose?" Mr. Garfield observed, pulling a brown leather ottoman from under his ornate looking desk, patting it as if to invite me to sit.

He held his hand out, requesting my schedule to sign and continued, "If you recognize somebody, feel free to take a seat next to them." His eyes were focused on his computer, but I let out a barely there whimper. He must have heard it because upon further inspection of me, he patted the ottoman again.

This time I took it, and watched quietly as the kids all about the room did their own thing. I saw a guy who hardly looked taller than me, wearing a batman shirt, holding a cup of noodles in one hand, some money and a fork in the other. His hair was sandy blonde, curly, and reached down to his ears. The boy kept coming closer to my seat, our eyes locked, then he stopped about a foot to my left.

Our eye contact still hadn't broken as he proceeded to wink yes, fucking wink, then lean over me to put a dollar in one of Mr. Garfield's drawers.

I didn't stop staring until he was properly seated with his friends, waiting for his cup of noodles breakfast to be done. When he got up again to get his soup, I looked at Mr. Garfield's screen, scanning it for anything entertaining, then, something hit me in the damn head, and landed on the desk in front of me. A guitar pick, a bright pink fucking guitar pick. Seriously? I plucked it off of the wood delicately, and turned it around.

James written in chicken scratch handwriting. My eyes snapped up to where I knew he was, and his too-blue eyes caught mine, winked again, then bit his lip in a mock suggestive manner.

Who the fuck does this guy think he is? I thought to myself. But still, I couldn't help but wonder what the hell made me so interesting to him, or if he was just being nice to the new kid, which seemed highly unlikely. So, I did something I'd normally never do.

I stood up from my seat, and made my way over to him, and my combat boots clicked all the way there. As I neared the group of kids he sat with, I got increasingly nervous, the adrenaline racing out of my body as quickly as it had come. So as you can imagine, when I reached James, I hardly had the courage to do anything but stand there awkwardly.

"Avery." I muttered through hardly-opened lips. James perked his plump lips up at the corners in the most michievous way, and motioned to the chair beside him in a grand, sweeping motion. Taking in his "Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge" t-shirt, I made a mental note to steal it from him somehow. "Nice shirt."

James looked at me appraisingly, then gave a full blown ear-to-ear smile, baring each of the teeth in his just slightly less than perfect mouth. He put a thin arm around my delicate shoulders and turned to the rest of his clan. "Dibs." He laughs as I shove his arm off.

A girl with black hair and blonde tipped bangs looked at me and gave me a sad smile. "Lorraine, but don't call me Lori. Raine only, okay dude?" Her voice was sweet, not at all what you'd expect from this tough looking girl with a spider bites and extremely dark eyeliner. Lorraine went back to work, and typed away on the MacBook with her clawlike nails urgently.

"Mason," A hand reached from my left. I turned to the owner of the hand, Mason, and had a confused look on my face, I'm sure. "That fucker over there," he pointed to James, who was trying to make a mustache out of a paper clip and failing miserably, "Is my fraternal twin. I'm not proud. He thinks he's the better looking one." I finally took his hand and shook it with a smile.

Their hair was almost exactly the same color, but Mason's eyes were definitely different. They were a very interesting hazel. They were blue around the pupil, but brown everywhere else. An extremely distinct feature. He was taller than James too, I could see even when he was sitting, and his shoulders were broader.

"Whose older?" I wondered aloud. Everyone pointed to Mason, including a kid with dark hair and tanned skin, who hadn't broken contact with his computer once since I sat down.

The bell rang, signaling the end of the period. We exited the class together, and I couldn't help but notice that James and Mason didn't walk so close together, but Lorraine walked closer to James than most friends do.

Suddenly I felt left out. I mean sure, these kids were nice, but...I couldn't explain it. I didn't feel quite at home yet with them.

It was hard for me to feel at home anywhere, anymore.