Deal With It By: Audrey B. Holley

Chapter 5

I enter the massive school with jitters, yet the exhaustion from lack of sleep seems to weigh me down. David sweeps his gaze every which way all the while he thrusts his car keys deep into his right jeans pocket.

"So..." he then stares down at me. "I guess we'll meet here at the end of the day."

I am certain an expression of nervousness is writing itself across my face, for he nudges me, and says, "Hey, don't be scared."

"I'm not scared, it's just..." I swallow with difficulty. "It's just so immense."

He laughs aloud, but I am not sure if it's at me or to himself.

"See ya." He tells me a farewell. His colossal figure is seen by all people, for everyone he passes gapes at his prodigious height. He inherited our dads tallness.

I suck in my cheeks, and then attempt to find my locker. I proceed to unlock it with the combination on my paper, but it has failed its duty to open.

"I don't need this." I say, a groan ringing in my voice.

When my dad had brought David and I to sign in, we received our books (which weigh my shoulders to a sagging posture horribly, for they are each piled in my bag). He asked us if we wanted to go through the routine of our schedules, but I had been speedy quick to say no. At the time, I didn't want to think of leaving my comfort zone behind, and interrupting the lives of peers who I see as strangers.

This innovative place where I obviously don't belong at, is no where near my comfort zone. I don't know where, who, or what. All I know is myself, and now I must cope with the thought of giving off a bad first impression by mistake. 

A bell in the hall of crowded teens sounds like an alarm, and at that, they all seem to filter out, leaving me standing in my lonesome.

Reaching in my pocket for my paper, I glance down at the name of my first class.

English.

* * * * *

I knock once, twice, and step foot into the classroom. I amble to the lady I assume to be the teacher. I present myself with a posture that I hope exposes my quality of confidence.

"I'm..." But all fails when I can't even bring forth my name.

The woman of bronzed flesh smiles vibrantly at me. "Hello. You must be-" she looks toward the students, and speaks brashly. "Keelie Hems."

"Uh..." Where are my words when I really need them? I nod in response instead.

"Go ahead and take a seat." She motions to a crowded table.

They chatter amongst themselves, unaware that the polite thing would be is to greet 'the new girl'.

I sit next to a boy; his oval shaped face is dotted with red blemishes of acne. He brushes his black hair from his blue eyes, stares a moment at my pink painted nails, and then scratches the nape of his neck. Glancing to the girl across from me, I recognize her from yesterday. She then looks at me as well.

She chuckles. "Waitress girl?"

All heads at the table turn to me.

I clear my throat, and say, "I have a name."

She tosses her lengthy blond hair over her shoulder. "Well, my name is-"

"Maria, she never asked for your name." The black haired boy sputters.

"Shut up freak. I wasn't even talking to you." Her green eyes look to me again.

He whacks his palm to the surface of the table; his pale fingers ball into a tight wad. I jerk in surprise. His lower lip tremors.