Acoustic

Chapter 2

Getting ready was a blur to me at first. I look out my white painted window in attempt to see what others wear I'm Australia. If you have not guessed already , I have not been to school in Australia before, as this is the first Monday of me being here. However, looking outside was no use, as all I can was a deserted beach. Turning quickly, the alarm clock has blinked again. Several times. 8:35. Time was not going any slower, I was not going quicker. I had to hurry up.
I open my ebony wood closet to find an old black suit I had to wear on my dad's funeral, and an blue and white striped jacket from 3 years ago. I decided to wear it along with a creased old white polo top, which was part of my uniform in the UK. The thoughts in my mind were racing and knowing that I looked like an idiot was hidden at the back. With a few minutes to spare I jumped into my mums old grey beetle, making a noise it should not. Sunny shakes her head in disbelief of the time. No words enter any of our mouths as the car travels.
As the car parks unevenly outside of school, I face reality. I look horrific. Looking at all the uncreased, smart outfits, mine does not even compare. No one has any creased tops, no one is wearing anything 3 sizes too small. I awkwardly place myself out of the car and put my black leather satchel on. The ends of my high ponytail are caught in the low wind as I do this. As everyone hears the slamming of the door, all they can do is stare. Even as they are all late to class, they are all more fascinated with me. I keep my head down as I enter, not knowing what else to do.
It was not easy being late to your first class either. I think I am used to staring now. It feels horrible to feel "different" like you have just changed planets. I politely say my manners before placing a seat in the back, hoping the staring would stop. "Hey....ummm please can I borrow a pencil?" I ask thoroughly. "Sure he replies" his golden locks hitting apart of me in the face. His vibrant lime eyes look at me as he passes me a yellow and black original pencil. "Judging by your non-tan, I don't think your from here." I nod in agreement. "I'm actually from London", but my parents, well my mum, decided to think it was a good idea to have a fresh start. Since my dad died from a heart attack." "I'm sorry" he replies, slowly shaking his head. "You can hang around with me, if you want, I just go to the music room. Sorry, by the way, I'm Brandon." I shake his hand. "My name is Cassie, and, yes I would love to. You sing?" Brandon shrugs his shoulders. Only by myself.