Capturing Them

Chapter Two

Chapter Two
•Sang•

The next morning Dad is gone before I even get up. Once I had breakfast, I had a shower and dressed in a pair of straight leg light blue jeans, a casual white t-shirt that's two sizes too big, a grey zip up jacket that has a hood and my favourite light pink vans. I blow dry my hair before brushing it out and just letting it hang down my back and over my shoulders. I put on my fake glasses before looking in the mirror.

I've always worn clothes that are too big ever since I started dressing myself. What really put me off though was when I started high school, seeing the way some guys looked at some of the girls -the ones with the short skirts and barely there tank tops- like they were on object. I knew then that I never wanted to be looked at like that. Some girls, I've learned over the years, like it but not me; I don't like attention so why would I bring unwanted attention to my self purposely.

Sometimes I wear skirts, dresses and shorts, maybe the odd tank top here and there but if I did wear something like that it was because I wasn't stepping out of the four walls that are my sanctuary, my safe place.

Satisfied, I scoop up my bag that is already loaded with my registration form, notebook, phone and of course a camera. Dad spoke with the principal at Ashley Waters one day last week and said that I would be coming today and explained that I couldn't speak. Well, I can speak, I just don't have a reason to anymore.

Walking down the stairs, I throw the strap of my bag over my head, letting the strap come over my chest and the bag resting on my hip. Passing the living room, I come to a stop, my eyes finding the boxes that have just been stuffed there in the corner. I know what's in them and they haven't been open since the first time Dad packed the contents away.

It's Mom's things and neither have us have found ourselves unpacking them before so they just stay in the corner of the room, become a part of the decor in the end.

A small part of me hopes that one day one of us can open those boxes.

I lock the door on my way out before making the walk to Ashley Waters thanks to my phone having GPS. I haven't had time to explore further then the woods at the back of my house.

It takes me twenty minutes to get there and when I reach the entrance to the school, I do what I do best; people watch. Friends are talking with each other, like they haven't spoken since the summer started and school finished. A group of girls I see is showing off their clothes to each other; wildly waving their hands about at the their choice of clothes. Parents talk quietly with themselves as they watch their children catch up with friends.

Dad has never socialized with any of the parents from any of my schools. He would just stand in the corner when he felt he needed to be there. I wasn't to far away, standing right next to him.

I remove my camera from my bag, pushing the fake glasses to go on top of my head. Bringing the camera up to my eye, I start snapping pictures; two boys having a 'man hug', a mom and a dad smiling brightly at their son. A group of three girls are huddled close together, smiling, whispering and pointing. I snap the picture and then move my focus in the direction that have them fangirling like their favorite band is in the car park.

My single eye meets a pair of dark ones as they look in my direction. I suck in a deep breath, completely unexpected to be caught and slowly lower my camera. His eyes don't move away from me and I fidget in my spot. His dark hair is pushed back from his eyes and his skin has been kissed by the sun giving him the perfect tan. He's taller then me and he's well toned, that's just by looking at the arms he has folded across his chest. He's dressed in black; black button down shirt, black jeans and black boots.

If I had met him down a dark alley, I would be petrified.

A boy stands next to him; this one has blonde wavy hair to his shoulders, a lighter complexion then his friend and he's dressed in a light blue t-shirt and light blue wash jeans. They're complete opposites and that fascinates me. They're friends, that much I know because a person like boy number two wouldn't willing stand next to boy number one and just continue talking away even though he's getting no response in return.

Boy number one gives of the vibe 'I'm a badass, don't come anywhere near me' and looks completely unapproachable. Yet, boy number two does not; he's a happy lad, laid back and relaxed.

Complete opposites.

And if it wasn't for the fact I was still being watched, not by one set of eyes but now two, I would have took my camera out and shot a picture, or two, maybe zoomed in real close so I can catch the color of boy number two's eyes.

I drop my glasses down onto my nose, flicking my hair just slightly as I do so it falls more in and around my face. I lift the flap to my bag and put my camera inside, finding my registration form before closing my bag back up.

Without another look at the two boys, I head on inside. The place is crowded so I have to push through many students to try and find my table and when I do, the line is long so I just line up and hope that it doesn't take to forever for me to see someone.

A shout has me turning my head and looking over my shoulder. The shout is followed by boisterous laughter as two boys in letterman jackets laugh at someone who I'm guessing is their friend get down on one knee in front of a girl. My mouth pops open just a little. Is he proposing?

The girl laughs and shakes her head, the boy dropping his head while his friends laugh. Then he's jumping back up to his feet. As the crowd parts for the three boys, my eyes move with them, just as another group of boys come through.

The first thing I notice is that they're dressed in smarter clothes than the other students here. The second thing I notice is that the two boys from outside are with them. Boy number two see's me first and grins, knocking his elbow into boy number one, his eyes finding me a few feet away.

I turn to face the front, a frown between my brows. Why are they paying attention to me like that?

"Next please." Realizing its my turn, I pull out the seat that's just been vacated and sit down. I slide my registration form towards the blonde lady with graying hair. She reads my name and then looks to me. "Ah, I've been waiting for you Sang." She flicks through the paperwork Dad gave me last night. "Yep, it's all here."

She starts clicking and typing away at the computer in front of her. "Because you don't speak, we will be assisting you with your own personal adviser. Dr. Green will be able to help you in anything that he can. He was the last person that we had available with your application being late." I nod my head so she knows I'm listening. "Dr. Green will be here in a moment so he can take you to his office so he can then explain what his role will be." She hands me back the paperwork with a new piece of paper she just printed off. "Your other teachers will get the memo about you not speaking. Now if you wait at the end of this table, Dr Green will be with you soon. A new copy of your schedule is in that bundle."

I nod my thanks at her, before standing up and going to the end of the table. I look down at the new piece of paper and take a mental note of my schedule.

Homeroom
AP English
AP Geometry
Study Hall
AP World History
Lunch
AP Biology
Japanese
Gym

Sounds simple enough. Although I don't understand why I'm in a language class when I don't speak. I guess I could learning about Japan in the class and speak the language to myself in my head.

Satisfied, I fold the pieces of paper up and slide them into my bag. That's when I feel a presence beside me; I move my eyes from my bag to the shoes of the person standing beside me. I'm guessing he is male because of his shoes that are black and shiny. My eyes travel up his tan slacks and up his torso where he's wearing his perfectly ironed purple shirt, the red tie he's wearing contrasting perfectly with the purple of his shirt.

Then my eyes meet happy green ones and I shuffle on my feet nervously. He's grinning at me and I feel my cheeks heat. I'm sure his grin gets wider when he asks, "Are you Miss Sang?"