Science, it has an explanation to everything - skin, why the wind blows, dogs, even why the way we are. Science is the only thing I, Paisley Harp, have. Until now. I am a foster child - past from family to family. I have never known my parents and I was fine with that, until I turned sixteen.
Sixteen is a funny age filled with hormones, boys/girls (or both, I don't judge), and the "in between". You're at the stage in life where you can have a job, own a car, and even drive, but you can't live on your own or make life decisions or even swim without someone holding your hand. For me, sixteen was a new foster home, new school, and pretty much my new normal. At least my new normal for a little while.
The school was bigger than most of the schools that I had went to before. I walked to the office in front of the building. There's a bunch of older ladies standing around in front of the desk. I walked to one and ask where the principal's office is. She doesn't say a word but instead gets up and walks to the back hallway where she leads me to the principal's office. The brown haired man stood up from behind his desk, " Hello, I'm Mr. Williamson. You must be Ms. Harp." He stuck his skinny hand out to shake mine. He was a tall, skinny man with glasses that didn't fit his face just quite right.
"It's just Paisley." I shake his hand. He began digging through his desk. "I have your schedule here somewhere," he said still rummaging through all of paper. "Here!" He had a eureka moment, sticking the paper above his head. "Follow me, Ms. Harp."
"Paisley!" He ignored me and kept walking. I started to become stuck in haze. The only thing I could think of was whether Mr. Williamson dyes he's hair or was his hair just graying in patches. We walk all the way to the other side of the school to this little hallway, containing only three classrooms. Mr. Williamson pushes open the last door. "Hello Mr. Lowe, this is your new student, Ms. Harp."
"It's just Paisley!" I interrupt, telling him for the third time.
"Well, hello Ms. Harp, I'm mean excuse me, Paisley. Welcome to English three." Mr. Lowe was a pudgy, bold man who couldn't have stood no more that 5'5" on his tippy toes. " You can take a seat in the back next to Naveen. Naveen please stand up." A tall, dark boy stood up. He had big chiseled arms and bright, intense green eyes. He was beautiful. I start thinking, 'He is out of this world. He should be in a freak show as the most beautiful man in the world. Is being that beautiful even possible? Am I dreaming?'. The thoughts sped through my mind. My ears start ringing. The smell of smoke and panic starts to fill the room. Mr. Lowe's desk had spontaneously lit on fire. I unwillingly close my eyes and hit the floor. I could hear only whispers of complete chaos and panic before I was completely out.
