A hand slapped down on my desk making me jump.
"Yes?" I asked. I looked up to see a boy my age glaring at me.
"What are you doing here?" he demanded.
I smiled coyly just to make him even more agitated. Leaning backwards in my chair so I could look at him better, I did my best to be nonchalant. This is my brother, Ben. He doesn't like the fact that we're related.
"Oh, relax. I just wanted to sit next to you. Can you blame a girl?" With this, I raised an eyebrow.
"You're not just any girl. Now, move, before anyone sees," Ben said, pointing a finger at the place I usually sit. It's all the way across the room and in the back.
I sighed and grabbed my bag. "Sheesh, can't take a joke much?"
Ben kept his expression placid even after I moved to my usual place. My "rightful" place where I "belong." I scoffed as I sat heavily in the metallic chair. Students drifted in and I watched as Ben welcomed his friends. Call it jealousy if you want, but hey, friends help. He wasn't stern with them. Ben enjoyed their company and everyone loved Ben. How could you not? He can be perfect when he wants to be.
"Hey, Nell! Guess who just aced their history presentation."
I glanced to my left. Karen Giuseppe, the closest thing I have to a friend but still not quite there, looked at me with a smug grin on her face. Hm, no clue who that could be.
"The muffin man?" I asked flatly. She rolled her eyes.
"Nah, this time it was someone from this exact room." Karen gestured around.
Smirking, I scanned the room. "You sure? I don't see anyone smart enough."
Karen cringed, "Ooo, ouch." She then smiled, swatting the air lightly. "I'm just joking. I know that you know I'm the one."
I smiled and went back to taking out a notebook from my bag. In English class, I always take out two so I can write down classwork in one and anything I want in the other. Our teacher is a young lady just out of college. Sometimes I wonder if she only got the job because she was pretty. Every handout we get has spelling and grammar mistakes. Our homework is to make colorful booklets which really brings me back to times in elementary school. It just drives me crazy, but I never say anything. If you look at it positively, every day I survive is a day my tolerance has grown. If I can tolerate her, then other things won't seem as bad. I don't know. I just always feel accomplished when i rush out of the classroom alive and mot reprimanded. Most of my second notebook is filled with sentences about what my teacher was doing wrong the day I wrote it.
While I was reading them, the bell rang. Ms. Menstal walked into the room and then right back out. I picked up my head and focused on what I could see of her talking to someone in the hall. Students were having side conversations around me so I knew there was no chance of hearing what was being said, but watching the scene was something to do.
This time, Ms. Menstal took her time walking to the table with the silencing bell on it. The bell is one of those ones they have at hotel desks where you ring for service. For some reason, they always fascinated me. Maybe it was because they were so shiny. As soon as Ms. Menstal introduced that we have to stop talking whenever we heard it, the bells became kind of dull though. Like always, conversation sizzled and died as the shrill dinging filled the classroom.
"Good morning, class. Today, I have some big news. A new student will be joining us."
Instantly, a new atmosphere buzzed in the room. I glanced at the only open desk available. It was the back right corner desk next to me. Oh, how interestng this could be.
Ms. Menstal tried calming the hurried conversations that had started, but it was then that the new person entered the room.
