What Meets The Eye

Chapter One: I Want to Know You

"Now remember, Gwen, make sure you talk to your teachers. We want to--"

"Meet them in person," I said, finishing her sentence. "Yes, mom. I know," I said with a smile, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

"And make some new friends. I heard there are some transfer kids this year," my dad said while sipping his coffee.

"Oh! That's right, William, I heard Lydia's daughter is one of the new students this year. What was her name? Hadley? Hurley?" my mom said, looking at me and my dad for help.

"Harley," I answered. "I'll keep my eye out for her. Although for Harley, I don't think making friends is a problem," I said, a bit jealous. My mom's friend, Lydia, decided to enroll her daughter, Harley, at Carlton High School because of our excellent curricular system. I've only met Harley once, but still to this day, her sweet and charming smile resonates through my mind. Her personality is so flawless and charismatic that she is probably friends with the wild animals.

"Honey, you make us very proud. Now you have a great first day of school. Like your dad said, make some friends and don't forget to talk to your teachers," my mom said, giving me one final hug.

"Michelle, you better let her go, or she'll be late," my dad said, looking up from his newspaper, and taking a sip of his coffee. "Have a good day, Gwen," he said and continued to read his morning paper.

"Be home by 4:00!" my mom called after me as I walked out the door.

Although my parents are overly protective and put me on house arrest nearly 24/7, I know they're doing it with good intentions. They only want the best for me because I'm their 'pride and joy' as their only child. They have high hopes and dreams for me to become a doctor, or something high up in the workforce. Medicine has been in my family for generations. My dad was inspired to become a doctor after his father, who is a well-known surgeon. My grandfather performed a miraculous surgery on the senator with a newly discovered medical condition and an extremely small chance of survival. Since then, our last name, Darkley, has been a reminder to every one of the heroic incident.

***
I was late to homeroom. Ms. Beckling made me head to the main office to get a tardy slip. By the time I arrived at my first-period class, which is English, everyone had chosen their own seats next to their friends. Being the last one, I was forced to sit in Ned Gallen's seat. No, Ned Gallen wasn't coming to class anytime soon. He wasn't some popular kid who had his seat "reserved" for his holy ass. Ned was a brilliant student that had nearly discovered a new element. However, he had a speech impediment that others picked on him for. He would have been a senior this year, but he was so severely bullied that it was enough for him to take his own life just after he finished junior year. Ned had always sat in this seat, and since his death, no one dared to sit in it--until today, when I had no choice.

Ned sat in the right back corner. The walls that surrounded me felt oppressing and dull. It seemed like I was miles away from the teacher, and that her powerful words seemed to become whispers from where I sat.

A young woman standing in the front, dressed more professionally than the students before her, walked to the front of the room. She had dark brown curly hair and alert eyes that even from the back row looked as if she was keeping vigil for everyone at the same time. I could see her eyes scan the room until they met with mine. She gave me a smile. I looked away quickly.

"Alright class, welcome to American Literature. This class is all about expressing your ideas and thoughts as we read literature written by many famous authors such as Thoreau, Emily Dickinson, and F. Scott Fitzgerald. However, before we get knee deep into the lesson, I want to start off with introductions. I want to know you. Not just your name or your hobby, but who you are as a person," the instructor in the front of the room said.