Navigation is Tricky

One

Usually the first day of school is an eye-opening, action-packed blurry day. The fact that I could say that just made it all the more untrue. To an expert like me, it was quite easy to understand why people feared the first day of school.

The cliques, the gossip, the unspoken but feared rules. High school was the great big ocean, you had to make sure you were a shark. I didn't really want to be a shark though, I wanted to be a sea anemone, just drifting along until prey decides to mess with me. Allow me to introduce myself.

Actually, you don't need to know my name, but for the sake of the story, let's call myself Kitty. I'm essentially a bystander, the silent spectator to the madness around me. The thing is, you can learn a lot about the cesspool of hormones and self-doubt which stood before me from the bleachers.

So there I was, in front of another linoleum floored prison. I had one more year until I would be whisked off to university, where I could learn the ways of the mysterious species which were college students. I was about as average as you can get, not exactly sporty or smart, but could get by into college. I walked into class, with a smile so fake Kim Kardashian's ass would be jealous. It's time to get into stage one.

Identification was important. I peered into the gray classroom full of skirted girls with ponytails and guys with ties who looked like they could be anywhere else. You could make out the distinct groups, but the hierarchy looked a bit more difficult to decipher. The bespectacled teacher droned on for a bit about how they should be "welcoming" and then asked me to "tell me a little bit about" myself.

This is where my Oscar-worthy performance would come into play. This was my piece. I stood there in my costume of jeans, a cardigan and pretentiously thick glasses delivering my perfected speech.

"Hey everyone, my name is Kitty, and I just moved to Kallitown a week ago." There was just enough self-doubt with underlying confidence delivered in those few words. Wasn't my best performance, wasn't my worst. The wide eyed boys and girls looked back at me, no one seemed to see me as a threat. I smiled and sat next to a group of girls who called me over with pity in their eyes.

I laughed internally, they actually thought I was a little lost puppy. Damn, I was good. I took a seat and fake-nervously murmured "hi" before the teacher who's name I didn't remember started her lesson.

Let's get this show on the road.

Now here's the thing. I never really did want to move to Kallitown. It was such a dreary gray city and rained all the time. Everyone had stylish umbrellas and knee high boots which I could only emulate with my dog-eared tan suede boots. It was sad, really. The girls took pity on me (I can't say I'm surprised) and the popular ones didn't seem to think I was exactly a hotshot. I was the only new person to join the small private school this year, even through it wasn't all that surprising as the final year was getting underway. Everything was as good as it could get.

Economics was quite easy, they were starting the first semester, and it was basically just a review of what had happened in the first. I glanced around as Miss Mathews (I heard another teacher call her) droned on about trade barriers. I turned to the pretty red head next to me, deciding she was the most likely to be the queen bee, I struck up a conversation.

"Hey, um, do you know how tariffs can help government revenue?" I ventured, trying not to sound like a teacher giving her the third degree. She looked back and smiled at me. I smiled back nervously, playing dumb. I knew the answer to the question of course, but playing dumb for a bit can get you quite far, very fast.

"I think it has something to do with taxation." her voice was rich, like a jazz singer's and she spoke slowly, pronouncing each word like it held a hidden meaning. I nodded, feigning gratitude in my eyes.

"Thanks, I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name?" I asked. Her pale face broadened as she smiled, It was quite unnerving actually, yet I couldn't stop staring at her. She uncrossed one statuesque leg and shifter her chair slightly to face me.

"Something tells me you knew the answer to your own question_" she stopped mid sentence, allowing me to introduce myself. I smiled, embarrassed, but looked her dead in the eye.

"Kitty." I said simply. She nodded slowly, and tossed her hair across her shoulder.
"Cassidy, but most people call me Sunday"

"Hi Sunday, as you can see, introductions aren't really my strong suit." I grinned without missing a beat. She gave me a glance and looked briefly at the blackboard, taking down some notes lazily and turned back to face me.

"You're not from around here are you?" She asked blankly. She reminded me of a lazy afternoon. Apt, I suppose.

"Not really, I just moved here a week ago." I replied airily.
Don't open up to people that quick, keep a little space I reminded myself. One thing you learn, is that your impressions of people on your first day are hardly concrete.

I called this the Bree Johnson theory, a sweetheart with a bitch exterior if I ever knew one. Bree was my best friend at St. Mary's the horrendously uptight catholic school I was at in 8th grade (also my third school). I was actually heartbroken leaving her behind.

Sunday simply nodded her head and looked at Miss Mathews explaining for the third time what economic integration was to a sleepy-looking boy in front.

First and second period passed quickly. I groaned as I saw the next class on my schedule. Maths.