Chapter One
I sat in the full classroom, smiling, unsure of my role in the world of "school." I took into account what everyone was doing and tried to adjust my behavioral patterns to match their's. Basically, I slouched quite a bit. There was a large man calling out names in the front of the room; it seemed to be something of a religious response. Perhaps he was a preacher.
"Melody... I'm sorry, Melody, will you help me pronounce your last name?" He asked.
"Of course!" I responded, happily. "It is pronounced ser-vah. And for those who are deaf or hard of hearing, I will write it." I stood up, walked gracefully, taking into account the pressure of gravity on this planet, to the white wall, and picked up a marker. Writing in American was quite simple, and I was able to do it well:
Chzierfaux = ser-vah
"Thank you." I nodded my head, respectively, and sat back down.
Some of my peers snickered, so I did as well.
"Thank you for the visual aid, Melody." The man said, awkwardly. He wasn't as poised as I had thought. "You're new to this school, correct?"
"Yes I am. My family and I migrated from Canada, similar to many birds to chase the warmth." I explained. "I come from Russian descent, as my mother tells me. She says that it gives me an excuse to have a long, misleadingly spelled last name."
"Wonderful!" He exclaimed. "I'm glad you're so... enthusiastic."
One boy burst out laughing; I suppose enthusiastic is too sophisticated of a word for him. I've learned that boys are more immature than girls, and the theory is proving to be correct.
The man continued to list names, and each person replied with "here!"
"Wow, perfect attendance!" The man congratulated us. "So as you know, I'm Mr. Gingham, and I will be most of you guys' science teacher. That's all you really need to know about me. I'll pass out schedules now; feel free to talk amongst yourselves. If you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask me."
I turned around to face the girl behind me. "Hello!" I greeted her.
"Uh, hey." She said, lacking emotion.
"I'm Melody! What's your name?" I asked.
"Aimee." She said, cracking her gum.
"Nice to meet you, Aimee!" I took her hand, firmly, and shook it vigorously. "How was that?"
"What?" She asked, raising one of her eyebrows.
"Woah, how do you do that?" I asked, excitedly.
She looked even more confused than she was. "Raise my eyebrow? Doesn't, like, everyone know how to do that?"
"I don't." I shrugged. "But not that; make your hair that color."
"You mean blonde?" She held up a lock of her hair and examined it, closely. "I don't know. I guess I was just born like that."
"Fascinating." I muttered. "Where I'm from, everyone's hair is a dark brown color, and we all have vaguely similar features."
"You don't text a lot, do you?" She asked, changing my subject completely. That was okay though; I've been known to do the same.
"Huh?" I asked.
Suddenly, a piece of paper fell on my desk. It was my schedule, stating where I needed to go and when. Then, a loud ringing pierced my ears and everyone got up and left, boisterously.
I read the first point of my schedule: Science, Mr. Gingham.
I sat, content that I would be hear for another period.
His class was so fun!
