How Could I Make This More Poetic?

I walked off the bus and started walking towards the old brick building, also known as my school. It was the first day of junior year.

Before I get ahead of myself, my name is Ayden Summers, and yes, I am a girl. Don’t let the first name full you. I’m not really the talkative one at my school; I have three of the best friends that anyone could ever ask for and that’s all I need. We’re not really what you would call “popular” either. I get my fair share of time to be the center of attention, but that’s mainly when they try to start to make fun of me.

“Aydie!” Someone shouted from behind me. I was just about to turn around when I was knocked to the ground in a giant hug. “I missed you SO much!” the person shouted. Only one person was allowed to call me 'Aydie'.

“Dylan! Get your fat butt of me, please. It’s too early.” I complained and tried to push my bestest best friend off of me. He was about 4 inches taller than me, making he about 5’7 with longish black hair that fell in his face every five seconds. Compared to me he looked like a care bear today, because I was wearing a black tee shirt and dark jeans with my good ole black converses and he was wearing the brightest green shirt I’ve EVER seen, with green converses to match. “Dude, did you get dressed in the dark?”

“Um- maybe, but that’s not the point. I missed you!” he smiled and wrapped his arms around me after he pulled me off the ground.

“Dylan! Stop molesting the poor girl!” a girl’s voice buzzed through my ears.

“Be quiet Case, you’re just jealous,” Dylan, being the most mature person I know, stuck his tongue out at her.

“Cassie!” I shouted and ran over to her, engulfing her in a hug. Cassie, or Cassandra if you want her real name that she can’t stand, was extremely pretty. She had bleached blonde hair that she decked out with pink highlights in random places. She was also wearing one of her signature band sweatshirts that she never leaves home without. Today it was Boys Like Girls, which I can’t complain because I’ve tried to steal it on more than one occasion.

“We all saw each other two days ago. You act like it’s been 2 months,” she laughed.

“Do I get a hug too?” a pouting voice joined in our little reunion.

“Aydie! You’re meanie of a cousin just made fun of me!” Dylan whined.

“I bet it was because of the shirt and matching shoes,” I laughed.

“Yes in dee dee,” My cousin, Tyler, sent me a thumbs up.

“Are you guys done picking on each other yet?” Cassie rolled her eyes at us. “You guys act more like kids as the years go by. But think, WE’RE JUNIORS!” she squealed in excitement.

“What happened to her?” Tyler whispered in my ear with no emotion in his voice at all. “I want our Cassie back.”

“Don’t worry. She’ll be back by the time she gets through homeroom and realizes that she’s actually in school and dreading it,” Dylan explained.

“Wow, I couldn’t have explained it better myself. Nice job, Dyl,” I punched his shoulder and we walked into the school. For 6 years straight now we all had the same first and last period class together, this year first period got to be history. Lucky us. I usually enjoy history though, but the teacher doesn’t even know who George Washington was, which I think is pretty important.

“Since it’s the first day of school, are we going to do our annual ice cream party?” Dylan asked as he jumped up and down in front of my desk.

“Dyl, do you honestly think that we would skip one?” Cassie raised her eyebrow at him. Since I met Dylan, 7 years ago, we had always gone out for ice cream the first day of school. Then when Tyler moved into town and we all meet Cassie three years later, they of course joined in too.

The day just drug on as I went from class to class. It was the usual, ‘these are the class rules,' 'this is how the classes grading works,' 'this is where you sit,' 'Ayden stop smacking Dylan in the head.' The usual. But my last class of the day changed that pattern. And I was hoping to go through my record of sleeping through the first day. Hey, what can I say? I'm still in the summer time mood. Like everyone else; I don’t want to be in school the first day.

Last period, which I had with my three best friends, was Creative Writing. This class was definitely not my strong subject. Not only that, but this year was able to get into most of my classes with only a few of the kids that made fun of me in them. This class was the total opposite. Not only were there a whole group of them, but that group include Jeff Belfield. He was a tallish boy, about 5’9, with longish black hair much like Dylan’s. Jeff had been my best friend all through elementary and middle school. He was even friend with Dylan, Cassie, and Tyler. But when we all got to high school, he changed. He stopped actually talking to us more and more and then eventually started making fun of us, especially me. He seemed to have some strong vendetta against me.

“Hey, Summers!” Here he starts. “You joining the guys sports teams this year?” the whole group he was with started laughing.

“You of all people should know that she doesn’t play sports. But I will take what you said as a compliment for her seeing as you promoted her from girls to guys, saying that she can be just as good as the guys even though she’s a girl,” Tyler growled back for me. Jeff clamped his mouth shut and looked away.

“Go Ty!”Dylan cheered and threw his arms around my cousin.

“Ayden, why can’t you ever stick up for yourself with that guy?” Tyler asked.

“I don’t know. It’s Jeff. Why should I care about what he says? Even though it will spread around the whole school”

Tyler didn’t have a chance to reprimand me again for not sticking up for myself because the teacher walked into the room. The truth was that I was still hoping for the old lovable, smart, kind Jeff to come back; the Jeff that was always there for me when people would pick on me and not even dare to make fun of me himself.

“Good afternoon class. My name is Mrs. Thomas and I'm your Creative Writing teacher for this semester. Usually teachers give you a syllabus and tell you the rules the first day, but in this class there aren’t really any, besides the basic school rules of course. This semester you will be doing random writing assignments for me along with a project. You’re project is to be an anonymous writer to someone in this class. That someone being the person I choose for you. In a moment I will give you a person’s name and their locker number, which will be kept a secret. That means not even I will know who you are writing too. You’re friends shouldn’t know, the person you are writing too shouldn’t even know who you are. But you will be writing anything to this person; poems, essays, your thoughts thrown on a random piece of paper, anything. You just have to turn it into me so that I can check off that you did one and then I will send you all out, individually, into the hall, once a week, so that you can place you work into the person’s locker. Does everyone understand? Any questions?” Great, this project is going to kill me.

Mrs. Thomas started handing out envelopes to people and as people read the names they received, there face either lit up, their smile was turned upside down, or they were just indifferent. I watched as Mrs. Thomas handed Jeff his and he was one of the ones that lit up. He must of got someone that he was really good friends with.

The teacher made her way over to my table. Tyler’s expression was one of the indifferent ones, Dylan looked somewhat happy, and Cassie was full-fledged frown. Then I was handed mine. I opened it slowly and inside read. ‘Jeff Belfield, Locker No. 2235’ Oh, no way. This can’t be possible. Crap.

“Now, I will give you the rest of class to make your first letter. Remember you are to remain a secret and I need to see it before I send you out into the hall.”

“Man, I hate this person,” Cassie pretended to slam her head on the computer keyboard in front of her.

“It can’t be that bad. I think I can deal with mine,” Dylan smiled. I don’t think that grin could get any bigger.

“How much you want to bet that he got his crush?” I laughed. Tyler and Cassie both raised their hands a bit while Dylan blushed.

“Why don’t you just ask her out?” Cassie slapped him with the back of her hand.

“I can’t,” Dylan muttered. He had a crush on Michelle Mitchell, or Mimi for short. She was a sweet girl, very studious, loved school, but could always give advice. I wasn’t close to her, Cassie was sort of. Mimi had dark brown hair that went down a little past her shoulder blades, with the brightest grey-blue eyes, I think, you could have.

“Guess we better get started,” Cassie sighed.

“She realized it was school?” I asked.

“By the end of first. Didn’t you notice at lunch?” Tyler asked. Of course I wasn’t paying attention. I fell asleep at lunch. I think they all did too.

For my first letter, I BS-ed a random paragraph on how the first day of school was annoying. How we didn’t do anything. That I think this assignment is basically pointless because it’s not going to mean anything by the time that the semester is over. And other things were randomly thrown in there, along with a ‘Sincerely, Your Personal Secret Letter Writer’. I thought the ending made it funny.

I stood up and showed Mrs. Thomas my paper, she marked off that she saw it and I walked out into the hall to find lucky locker number 2235.