In The Spring

The sign for Belleville High, declaring the school’s name, looked as run down as the building.

“Well it’s certainly no Empire State” I muttered to myself as I dragged my reluctant feet towards the entrance.

Moving me from New York to New Jersey, mid way through the semester of my junior year was just about the dumbest idea ever. I mean, not only had I been exiled to a place I hated with a growing passion, but I’d left behind my friends. My memories, my life and—at risk of sounding like a whining teenager—it was so unfair. Without choice or freedom of speech, I’d been unwillingly evacuated and it was my father’s dumbest idea yet.

I’d put on a brave face this morning, when he’d asked if I was nervous. Truth was I wasn’t nervous. No, nervous was an understatement. If I’m being completely honest I was terrified.

There’s something about the thought of being the new kid that struck fear into me.

I headed towards a desk, which I assumed would be where I collected my schedule and anything else needed for my first day. Behind the desk sat a middle aged woman, darks roots showing through her dyed blonde hair and a frustrated expression contorting her round face.

“Excuse me—”

“Wait one moment” she interrupted curtly, as she fingered through a pile of papers. Her voice was sickly sweet and didn’t match her impolite persona. Her distraction gave me a chance to take in my surroundings and though the off-white walls and grey floor weren’t much to look at, I suddenly found them of great interest. It averted my eyes from the prying stares of the other students, curious about a new face in amongst the familiar ones. “Right, how can I help?”

“I’m new, it’s my first day”

“Name?”

“Elizabeth Rae”

I stood patiently as she began searching through a precariously stacked pile of documents on her desk, her features twisting into that aggravated expression once again. She brought several sheets to the counter and informed me that they included my schedule and a map of the school. She pointed vaguely in the direction of my first class and gave me a parting smile. None of which helped reassure me in the slightest.

I kept my head down as I stumbled through the hallways, mostly because I was scanning over the papers the receptionist had given me. According to my schedule, homeroom started in less than five minutes and I didn’t have the slightest idea where the room was.

“Oh boy” I sighed, leaning against my locker—which I’d managed to find after much deliberation—as students swarmed past me. I was a pebble in the path of a river; useless. These kids didn’t need me, they already had their friends and I was certain if they were anything like this uninviting town, then I wouldn’t be welcomed in with open arms. I’d convinced myself that this didn’t matter. I had all the friends I needed, problematically they were all back in New York, but friends nonetheless and I didn’t need any of these New Jerseyans. They were all nosey and as desperate for attention as the next. Their prying stares oozing curiosity, desperate to know the dirt on this new face amidst the familiar ones.

Ugh. I hated being the new kid.

Belleville High itself was small, being in a small town, and only catered to approximately four hundred students. To me, compared with what I’d known back home, this place was run down. Neglected and derelict it stood, with its bare, cracking, yellowing walls and peeling, grey, linoleum floor. It was depressing to say the least and the lacklustre atmosphere hung toxically in the air. My lone figure shuddered as I felt it sucking at my soul.

Before moving to Belleville, my Dad and I lived in Manhattan, but it wasn’t as though Jersey was new to me. No I’m originally a Jersey girl. I was born in Newark into a happy, healthy home. Or so my naïve, youthful mind believed, until one day my parent’s jumped on the divorce band wagon and my Father left us for the Big Apple. At the time I was six years old and it’s not easy for a child of six to have to explain to the other kids, why her Dad wasn’t around, but sooner or later I came to terms with the separation and for seven years my Mom and I lived happily in Jersey. And that’s when she became ill.

The night after she passed away, my Dad packed up all my things and moved me to New York. This leads us to where I am now, four years on and exiled yet again. My Dad decided we needed a fresh start, he’d had enough of the city and for some reason he believed our fresh start should be in Belleville. It’s probably one of the worst towns in Jersey, but I’d have to get used to it, because according to my Dad we were going to be here a while.

The warning bell rang, pealing despondently as though it was on its last legs. It barely carried over the roar of buzzing noise. The hallways were packed, full to bursting point with students pushing their way through the crowds trying to reach their destinations, the sound of countless voices echoing around the walls. Threatening to crumble at any given moment.

I held my breath, planning my route absentmindedly in my head. The thick throng had me rooted to the spot, feet securely glued to the flaking floor, waiting for the river to calm. I was so enthralled in searching for a gap in the flow that I didn’t have a chance to dodge out of the way when a passer by accidently stumbled into me, pushing my back painfully into the locker and winding me of air. I gasped as my books were sent cascading to the floor and dropped hastily to my knees after them.
I glanced around nervously, hoping all minds were too busy rushing to class to witness this. I could hear their snickers in my thoughts—the clumsy new kid already making a fool of herself.

“And I don’t even know your name” I heard someone say, the voice coming from a figure that through my flustering, I hadn’t realized was so close. I could see the battered soles of their sneakers and the rips in the frayed edges of their jeans. My head shot up, glaring at the boy in front of me, his lips curled up at the side in a wily smirk.

“Excuse me?” I shot back. I’d intended my voice to be hard, maybe even venomous, but through my ears it came out as a pathetic squeak.

“It’s just I usually know a girls name before she gets on her knees” he stated nonchalantly, leaning against the lockers.

I clumsily clutched my books to my chest and I stumbled to my feet, my face red hot. “Is everyone in this town as helpful as you are?” I sneered. “Also you’re disgusting”

I broke from his stare that had been equally as locked as mine and flounced down the corridor, scrounging at all the dignity I had.

“So should I just call you Blondie or..?” I heard him call after me, his laughter ringing through my ears.

I cringed, closing my eyes briefly in humiliation. Jerk

After that it took me several minutes to pull myself together and work out exactly where I was going. The halls were now completely deserted. It was like a ghost town, I could almost hear the whisper of tumbleweed and pushed forward anxiously, only to idle outside the classroom when I’d eventually found it. I was far too late than was acceptable. Surely the ‘I’m new’ excuse was viable.

I braced myself for inevitable stares and enquiring looks.

Every lesson passed painfully slow. Seemingly lasting a long, agonizing lifetime in my mind. Last period was History and I tried to block out the monotonous drone of the teacher’s voice, uninterested in her wasted efforts to get our attention. History wasn’t a subject I was fond of; I never understood why people were so hung up on the past. Why people were so determined to keep the recollections of an event that happened hundreds of years ago alive, when it clearly didn’t affect me now. What was the point in the teacher lecturing thirty students about an occurrence we obviously couldn’t care less about? Surely she could find better ways to spend her time?

A dislike of history wasn’t the only reason these kids weren’t paying attention and it was excruciatingly obvious to me what the reason was. I sat under their watchful stares for the duration of the lesson, struggling to stop myself from watching the clock, knowing that time would only seem to pass slower. My eyes seemed to have a will of their own as they wandered to the minute hand, counting down the seconds.

As the last bell signalled, with a sigh of relief, I was the first one out of the room. I bolted straight out of the classroom and in all my eagerness collided with another body. Just like my books this morning, I was sent falling to the floor.

“So now you’re throwing yourself at me? I mean, I’m not complaining of course, but don’t you think you’re being just a little forward?”

My head shot up as I heard his voice. The vulgar boy from this morning who still had that stupid smirk plastered on his face and I wondered what he was scheming.

“See, I can be helpful” He offered smugly.

I ignored the hand he extended towards me, staggering to my feet for the second time that day and brushing the dust off my jeans.

“Are you always this annoying?” I hissed, blissfully aware that my voice sounded a tad threatening.

“’Fraid so Blondie” he directed back casually, the corners of his mouth twitching. “Do you mind if I call you that?”

“Yes!” I retorted, fully aware that the smirk on his stupid mouth only flourished with me opposing to this.

“So maybe you should tell me your name, I mean if we’re going to keep meeting like this”. His voice oozed confidence, so much so that it made me kind of angry.

I wasn’t sure what to tell him. I mean I hadn’t forgotten my own name, it’s just this guy was a jerk and I wasn’t sure if he was being serious or if this was another of his arrogant remarks. “I’m Elizabeth Rae”, I blurted out, immediately regretting it.

He laughed; this penetrating chuckle and I felt the blood go to my face.

“Well I’m F-“, He started, before he was cut off by a pretty girl, with pale skin and dark curls, calling his name.

“Frankie!” He turned his head and watched her walk over.

“Hey babe”, he replied, whilst she took his hand and leaned in to kiss him. He smiled into the kiss and then pulled away.

I suddenly felt very self conscious. I’d never had a problem with the way I looked before. I mean don’t get me wrong I didn’t think I was anything special, and compared to this girl I was nothing but average. She had deep, auburn curls, that danced just below her shoulders as she glanced in my direction, surveying me with her intense, chocolate brown eyes. Her outfit complimented her figure perfectly. A denim skirt, that showed off much of her long legs and a simple white fitted t-shirt. I wore my frayed jeans, an extremely worn pair of converse and a Smashing Pumpkins t-shirt that used to belong to my Dad. I made a mental note to make more of an effort tomorrow. She tugged at Frankie’s hand, and he took it as a signal that she wanted to go.

“See you around, Elizabeth Rae”, and with that he sauntered away from me again, leaving me exasperated and with the weight of a day I couldn’t wait to forget on my shoulders. But even worse, as I watched them disappear down the hallway, was the ever so slight tinge of jealousy I could swear I felt course it’s way to the surface of my emotions. I swiftly shook it off. I wasn’t going to let some conceited, smart mouth guy, who I barely knew, get to me. The stress of starting a new school must have my brain reeling. I’d imagined the jealousy.

Or maybe you didn’t. Conceited, smart mouth he may be, but he sure is good looking.

Boy, was my brain disorientated. And with that disturbing thought ringing in my head, I turned and stormed out into the parking lot, slamming the door of my car as hard as I could.