How to be Basic

i.

New story... Lol yay? Let me know what you think in the comments ✌

Dedication to latenight_ for the awesome cover :)

/\\//\\//\

The trees shook and trembled with my body as the rough winds blew right through both of us. I pulled my jacket tighter around myself and attempted to shuffle forward. My legs felt heavy, like someone had tied weights around my ankles, making it difficult to move. The camera hanging from my neck felt more like a chain, every part of my body was being pulled down by an invisible force.

They said this place would be different, something about the 'clean atmosphere'. They had said every word with care, like I was a bomb that could explode without a warning. That was a month ago; I'm better now. I think.

My fatigued body begged for me to stop, to sit down, to just take a break. I don't remember how long I've been walking, but it's helping with my anxiety, so why stop? The leaves under my feet seemed to get louder with every step, begging for me to notice them, begging for me to see that they've fallen. I'm begging.

The pair of trees in front of me bent into each other, making it seem like they were trying to awkwardly embrace. The pithy observation made me stop and squat down, adjusting my camera lenses before taking a few shots. At a first glance the trees appeared to be bent in the wrong directions, but after studying the tangled limbs it was obvious that they had grown comfortable in their place. With no protection from the leaves they stood bare to the wind and rain, but were still standing through it all, gray and rough to the touch.

Crying only made me colder, so I stopped a while ago. Tomorrow's my first day back, and I'm terrified. Just the idea of walking in a hallway makes my hands shake. Or that could've been the cold. Either way, it's not a good feeling. I can already see it; everyone looking at me, the fresh meat, the transfer. I hate that this freaks me out so much, I hate that I've become this way.

In the distance I could make out the red brick of my new house. I could see the white windows perfectly from here, and as I got closer I could hear the faint hum of the heater. Every muscle in my body screamed in relief, and the trees waved their goodbyes as I pulled open the back door.

Boxes still littered the floor; little peanuts of packing foam were almost everywhere you looked. Our small, moss green couch had misplaced china and cook books thrown on it, and the arm chair had been tampered with so much the once vibrant green was now a dull brown. I climbed up the small stair way to my room, passing my dad's office on the way. All I could hear was the clicking of a keyboard and the occasional dry cough. I shut my door and threw myself on my bed.

How the hell am I going to make this work?

/\\//\\//\

"Brooklyn Reed, I'm the transfer."

The front office looked as dead as I felt this morning. The white walls had crooked paintings of old principles hanging from them, all looking at me like I'm a criminal. Whatever, at least I'm as dead as you actually are. Just numb, and slightly exhausted.

"Oh here you go honey, this is your schedule and here's..." The lady reached over and pulled out a manila folder from a nave cabinet, "the syllabus's for your classes. It'll probably take you a while to catch up on all the work, so here's information about our schools tutoring program and...." She trailed off, and I tried to find somewhere else to look. This middle aged woman had the weirdest pair of front teeth. One was almost behind the other, but somehow they still took up most of her mouth. It was making me uncomfortable, so I quickly took the papers and left the presence of her horrible horse-teeth.

As soon as I stepped out the door I regretted it. The bell rung and the hallway was instantly crowded with hormone filled teenagers trying to socialize and make it to their next class. I was left standing in place completely frozen, watching everything happen. People passed by without acknowledging me, everyone too enthralled with each other to focus on someone else. Unknowingly, the halls had cleared, and another bell rung. I filled my dying lungs and shook off the fear that had threatened to consume me seconds before. Swallowing hard, I fantasized what it would be like to be passed by every day. Not piquing anyone's interest, being too ordinary to attract that kind of attention. The thoughts managed to placate my fears until they were no more, and I continued trying to navigate my way to class.

My first class was on the second floor, with a Mrs. Crawford? It was an AP English class, which didn't seem too bad. I peered through the small window in her door and saw that everyone was quietly working on something. All the students looked the same, everyone wearing the latest trend with the same dead expression. Crawfish was sitting at her desk, squinting at something on her computer. I took a deep breath and knocked on the locked door, my eyes widening when the whole class caught my eye. Someone stood up and opened the door so everyone could see me before I stepped inside.

"And who are you?" Crawfish turned her chair towards me and lowered her gaze. I walked up to her desk and handed her my schedule. Her eyes squinted as she observed my gait, and after studying me she turned to the paper in her hands.

"Brooklyn Reed, I'm the transfer."

I lightly pulled at the hem of my skirt and watched as she read the paper with amused eyes. Her plump figure seemed to melt into the chair she was in, and her hair fell in ringlets around her face. The creases on her face and neck looked like charcoal lines, giving her an unhealthy glow.

"Welcome Miss Reed, we'll have to rearrange so that we're in order." The students behind me shuffled and everyone started picking up their stuff. "I like things a certain way, like my students sitting in alphabetical order. I think you belong in front of Mister Rowe..." she casually pointed towards a boy in a grey hoodie. I nodded and rushed over to my seat, ignoring the whispers around me.

Do they know? Is it starting again? My hands shook from under my desk. I flattened my skirt and tried to read the board in the front of the class. It looks like they just finished Naked Lunch. That was a good book, rough read at the start, but once you got past that, it was actually-

"Hey," I jumped and turned towards the hand that tapped my shoulder. The boy with the grey hoodie smiled at me and I felt a weird knot form in my stomach. The 'I haven't so much as looked at a boy in at least a month' knot. His hand was still hanging near my shoulder, but I was momentarily distracted by his features. There was a strand of brown hair falling into his face, and it was annoying me. He had these startling blue eyes that had permanent lines around them, and his smile was forced, which put me off. There was story behind it, that much was plain to see, but instead of a smiling cover it up, his smile seemed more like a cry for attention. I was too familiar with that look. "I'm Connor, welcome to Literature Brooklyn."