Margo's POV
I heard the sound of the stupid rented black sleek Mercedes hurry off, and I was left in the presence of a school in which I already hated, and I haven't even stepped foot in it yet.
I grabbed my three suitcases; with a tiny bit of struggle, and dragged them up the metal steps and these two men which I hadn't noticed before my parents had left, were at the door. They pushed the giant and dark door open for me which led me into the main lobby. I mumbled a 'thank you' and walked in to the building. The two men shut the doors behind me so quickly, it made me jump from surprise.
The lobby was buzzing with teenagers of all ages. There were anything from thirteen year olds, up until what looked like twenty year olds. I mentally groaned at the sight of this many people, and how I'd probably have to talk or worse, be forced speak to some of them. I swarmed my way through the crowd; not even caring who I bumped into with my body or three suitcases. After some shoulder bumps and some prominent glares shot my way, I reached the front desk at the other side of the room. There was this middle aged woman residing behind the counter, scrolling down her computer screen, and with these really big brown glasses that practically took over her entire face.
"Hello and welcome!" Th middle-aged woman said. I noticed this strong whiff of what smelled like cat piss. I tried my best not to gag. The woman was looking at me and smiling. I didn't answer, just avoided her gaze. "What's your name, sweet cheeks?" I cringed at the mention of that nickname, as that was what my dad called me, and I was pretty sure I hated my dad.
"Margo Derek." Was all I said. To be honest, I wasn't paying much attention to what the lady was saying; because I was thinking of ways to get the fuck out of this place. There seemed to be two men at every door or window. It was as if they treated this place like some sort of prison, which pissed me off even more, and made me hate this place much more than I already do.
"Well, Margo, here is the key to your room. You will be sharing a room with a girl your age, and your roommate also has one as well, you each have your own set. You can drop off your bags in the room, and go to the cafeteria, they're serving breakfast. The dormitories are on the left." She smiled, handing me the key. I snatched it from her grasp, not bothering to smile back.
I mumbled a "Thanks." And made my way in which I assumed was the way to the dorms by what this woman had told me. Everyone here was wearing the same sort of clothes- designer. I figured that was what everyone would be wearing, as this was one of the most expensive places to be- but it literally sickened me. As I was wearing my pink frilly dress and my hair was anything but ordinary- I stuck out like a sore thumb. But, when was that ever a bad thing?
I found a sign that said that the dorms were just around the corner, and once I travelled down the vast hallway, I found the room in which would soon belong to me. The room number was 66, and I took the key and unlocked it.
The room itself was empty, and there was no sign to say that my other roommate had been here. I wasn't sure if I liked the idea of a roommate, especially if it was a spoiled rich kid, so I wasn't sure I'd like this living arrangement one bit.
I placed my three suitcases by the bed on the left, and fell back on it. The walls were a dull grey and the furniture was a light brown colour. I found it just so, bland. I needed to put pictures of my favourite bands and pictures of me and my old friends. But I wasn't sure. Maybe I liked the emptiness.
I decided to skip breakfast this morning- not because I didn't want to eat, it was just that I wouldn't want to speak to any of those people anyways, and start to unpack. According to the schedule that the secretary has given me, my first class started in about thirty minutes, so I was fine.
In this room, which was quite big, there were two of everything - two beds, two desks, two closets, two bathrooms- which I found useful. There was no way I'd share a bathroom with someone. I liked my space. Plus, I doubt that my roommate would let me dye my hair any sort of back colour in a shared bathroom.
I unzipped my packed suitcase, and put all my clothes into my closet. I had a very distinct fashion sense, and I fucking loved it. If you didn't like it, then you can shove a stick up your ass, because I don't give a fuck.
I get very defensive when people judge other people for no good reason. Like, you don't like their clothes? Don't have to tell the whole world. Don't think they should dye their hair? No problem. But when people start to insult things other people like and enjoy, I find distasteful and rude. Keep your damn opinions to yourself; especially when they aren't nice.
After unpacking most of my things, I grabbed my schedule and started to make my way to my first class; math. Why did I actually have to go to school why I was here? Wasn't this punishment enough?Although it took me a while to find the math wing, I found it and entered the class that will formerly be known as hell.
I took a seat all the way in the back, next to a kid with bright red hair. It was either this seat, or the one in front row precisely in the centre. I don't know about you, but I ain't about that life, and I like to sleep during class, so I decided to chose the seat that would be less noticeable.
As I walked to my seat, I could just feel everyone staring at me. Like they were literally burning me with their eyes. A couple people snickered as I walked past them, so I just flipped them off when the teacher wasn't looking.
"Now that I assume everyone is here," My math teacher said, "I would just like to introduce myself as I will be your math teacher for the first couple weeks, as your real math teacher is out sick." I couldn't help but yawn. He had one of the extremely boring voices, and it didn't help that I was really tired. The teacher shot me a glare. "Excuse me, Miss? You do know that it's rude to yawn while people are talking, right?"
"I do know. I just don't care." I stated simply, shrugging my shoulders. My teacher crossed his arms at my response.
"You should care. I am your substitute teacher. You will treat me with respect." I rolled my eyes. This guy has got to be kidding.
"Can I go to the bathroom?" I asked, already bored of this class and ignoring what he had just told me. I didn't really have to go, I was just dying to get out of here.
"I don't know, can you?" he retorted. "After the way you've just been rude, I don't know if I can allow it."
"I don't know, can you get a full-time job?" I sneered. The boy next to me with his bright red hair burst out laughing, and a slight smile resided on my face. The boy gave me a high five, which I gladly returned, but the substitute teacher looked anything but thrilled.
"What is your name, young lady?" He asked, a clear look of frustration on his face.
"Margo. Margo Derek."
☯☯☯☯☯☯☯☯☯☯☯☯☯☯☯☯☯☯☯☯☯☯☯☯☯☯☯☯☯☯☯☯☯☯☯☯☯☯☯☯☯☯☯☯☯☯☯☯
Sort of a get to know her I guess aha
red haired mikey bc hell yeah (ɔ◔‿◔)ɔ ♥
THAI WASNT EVEN GOOD IMCRYUNG
