She Told Me Not to Worry (SEQUEL to He Told Me Not to Tell) COMPLETE

7

Kenzie's POV

"Can I see your schedule?" Clarissa asked. I handed her the sheet of paper that listed my classes. We're both in all the advanced core classes."

"Advanced?" I asked confused.

"Yeah. That's why all of the are in the same room with the same teacher. You didn't know?"

"Nope. My mom signed me up for my classes."

"You took the advanced test, right?"

"Yeah, but I just thought it was a home school thing."

"Well, apparently you did pretty well on it. What else?" She said as she looked back down at my schedule. "We also have gym and choir together."

"Cool, but I don't know if I'm going to stay with choir. I might switch."

"What? Why?"

"Because I don't know if I'm any good at singing," I admitted.

"Your mom is Demi Lovato, it's probably in your blood."

"I'm adopted," I reminded her.

"Oh yeah. Well there's only one way to find out if you're good or not. You'll just have to try."

The bell rang, and most of the class left. Clarissa and I along with a few others stayed seated, and several more came in. We had to introduce ourselves all over again, and we were probably going to have to do that with every class. Then we watched a few introduction to History videos, and I was ready to fall asleep.

After that class, I had Spanish, so Clarissa and I parted ways. My Spanish teacher, Mr. Romez, had a very heavy Spanish accent. I had to listen very closely to what he was saying in order to understand him correctly. We just went over different handouts that named colors, numbers, and different sayings in Spanish. I went back to Ms. Baker's class for reading and was able to sit where I sat last time. Soon Clarissa came in and took the seat in front of me.

Lunch came around, and I walked with Clarissa to the lunch room. It was so loud! We were able to find a spot and sit together. "So who else do you hang out with here?" I asked.

"No one," she answered, pulling out her lunch. "It's been like that since I started going here in third grade."

"Why?"

Clarissa shrugged. "I used to be a freak. I wouldn't talk to anyone."

"That doesn't make you a freak. But why wouldn't you talk?"

"I was scared."

"Of what?"

"If I told you, you wouldn't want to hang out with me," she admitted.

"That's not true," I said truthfully.

"You'd think I'm a freak."

"Clarissa, no I wouldn't. I promise."

She took a deep breath before speaking again. "I'm adopted, too."

"So? That doesn't make you any different than me."

"I was taken away from my parents when I was eight. They used to hurt me all the time. That's why I was too scared to talk to anyone."

"That's terrible," I said, remembering my life from when I was little.

"You have no idea."

"Actually, I do. We have more in common than you think."

Help! Please, I need ideas! Credit for ideas will be given!