Avoiding August (ONGOING)

Chapter 1

A/N: this chapter is pretty much just the orientation assembly at her new school, so please have patience. It's not the most exciting part, but I have a few things planned ;) Enjoy my first story.

I had lost my best black dress, my copies of  'To Kill A Mocking Bird' and 'City of Bones', and the panda plushie that my friend won for me at a fair last year.

I guess it should have been expected. Losing your possessions seems to be a common occurrence in the frustrating ritual that is moving house. Mazes of boxes dominated our new house at the moment, but we were chipping our way through it with scissors and fingers wrapped in tape.

Now was not the time to dwell over the memory of my dress, books and panda, I told myself as I took in my new school: the National Academy of the Arts. The most prestigious academy in Australia.

My hands were damp with sweat as I bit my lips and stepped in. I walked quickly in hopes that my worries wouldn't catch up with me. A good impression was necessary in a prestigious place like this.

Each building could have passed as a manor, ranging from two storeys high to four. The walkways running between were smooth and clean with no cracks. They were lined with fine greenery.

An older student approached me. The golden flash of a badge showed, above the school crest on their breast pocket. She told me to go and be seated inside the hall, and before I could tell her that I didn't know where that was, she shoved a piece of laminated paper into my hands. She walked off to the next group of new students.

I looked down at the paper in my slim hands; a map.

After coming to a halt and scrutinising the flimsy guide, I saw it was the first building, right in front of the main entry that I just walked through.

A small stream of people were walking into the building, so I followed them in.

It seemed to be a hall, with it's polished wooden floors mostly obscured by the rows of plastic chairs lined up before a stage. I took a seat in the back, as there were no other seats left. Lots of people.

I'm not sure how long it was; how long I spent smoothing down my light hair and straightening out my uniform. Then a man walked onto the stage out the front, toward the podium.

The microphone at the podium didn't seem to be working, and after giving it a tap, he looked over toward a group of kids standing off to the side. They all wore black shirts with writing on them, though I couldn't read it. They quickly ran backstage and came back with a stand and microphone. They must have been stagehands. They adjusted it to the man's height with practised, nimble hands.

"It's so great to see so many fresh, young faces so eager to learn here in front of me today. I am humbled to see that so many of youthful talents chose this academy above all others-" I tuned him out and stared at my hands blankly as he continued the orientation speech.
I looked up when I no longer could hear the drone of his voice, and instead heard a guitar being strummed by a boy.

After picking at the strings for a bit, he stopped to adjust the microphone higher to reach his mouth. He was tall; not awkward and gangly, but muscular and confident.

He then sung a song; one I was unfamiliar with.

There was a moment where he let a strum ring out, followed by a heavy beat of silence. I started clapping, but hastily stopped when he continued the song with a small grin. I could barely see it with the microphone in the way, but I could tell. My eyes moved away from his crown of black hair and his crooked nose.

Before I looked away, I saw the laughter bubbling in his eyes, and the amused spark and lit them up momentarily. They didn't seem amused in a fond, friendly way. He seemed amused in an imperious, condescending way.

My face burnt from the scarlet shame that splashed across my cheeks. A few people looked my way. I ignored them.
There were two more performances, which I didn't pay that much attention to; a violin and cello duo, and a dance crew dancing to a Limp Biskit mashup.

After that, a student -wearing a gold badge similar to the girl's who gave her the map- took the microphone in his hands.

He spoke into it with a heavy cloak of authority draped about him. "Hello, my name is Cameron Geoss, and I am the vice-president of the Student Body Representative Council. As the president isn't here today, I will be speaking in their place." He scooted around the stand to hover in front of the front row.

"After I finish speaking, each grade is to gather at the place I tell you to go. Grade 10s go out the right hand door, 11s out the left hand side, and 12s outside the main entrance. There will be signs, and a teacher next to each of them. There will be three signs, and they have A-H, I-P and Q-Z on them. You will stand at whichever has the first letter of your surname. When your name is called, you will be marked as here and given your schedule." He stepped back with a short sigh, gave a nod and walked off.

I followed his instructions, making my way out of the left hand door whilst avoiding being shoved. I then joined the gathering of people around the sign A-H and waited.

I stood there, idle and fidgeting, until my name was called.

"Quinn Bentell."

"Yes, that's me." I timidly spoke, raising my hand a little. The people chatting in front of me obscured me from view, and didn't hear me.

"Quinn Bentell?" The teacher repeated, scouring the student's faces.

Biting back a scowl and huffing, I went to push past to retrieve my schedule when a voice declared, "She's here."
The thick crowd parted and I took the green slip of paper, thin-lipped. I inspected my schedule.

"Perks of being short, huh?" The blond boy who made the dense ocean of a crowd part (maybe his name was Moses) from before appeared, also holding his own schedule.

I scrunched up my nose in response and gave a slight nod, before fixing my eyes in the small writing. My first class. Monday. First period, I had mathematics in B14. I turned to the map.

The blond boy came to my side with a slow, cautious smile. He hesitated, fingers twitching around before settling into his trouser's pockets. His awkward aura grew as he said with uncertainty, "I could show you around, you know. I was here in Year 10 last year. It'd be no problem." I looked up at him then, surprised and elated that someone might be asking to befriend me. "I could introduce you to my friends. At lunch, and... Well, if you want to." He must have taken my silence as a hostile response.

As he began to shrink in on himself into a pile of awkwardness next to me, I hastily said, "Of course. I'd really like that. I don't really know anyone here, and I don't know where any of my classes are. I mean, this place is huge."

He perked up. Less awkward, now. "It's an academy for artsy child prodigies. What else would you expect?"

I was quick to suggest, "A fountain with a sculpture of Michelangelo? A shrine for Picaso and Ludwig van Beethoven?"

"I wouldn't put it past principal Jepson."

He peered over at my schedule, before holding out a hand. I passed it to him.

He lowered his head so that he could read it without it reflecting the bright sun off the paper and into his eyes. After a good, long squint, he pressed it back into my hands with a boyish smile. "You have 1st period with me."

My lips twitched upwards into a grin his way.

His blue eyes lit up.

If you like where this might be going, don't forget to vote. :D