Turn my life around

Chapter 4

2 days later

Peyton shifted in her seat uneasily. Her hands where busy fidgeting with her backpack zipper, or really anything else at this point. The butterfly's in her stomach started to swarm uncontrollably, as she took another shaky breath. The slight ripple of water in the glass was the result of her restless leg, which had been shaking science she sat down.

The room was quiet. Too quiet. She swallowed the lump in her throught, and ran her hands down her thighs nervously. The fabric moving against her skin was the only thing filling the uneasy silence. Her hands didn't have long to travel due to the voice breaking her into a fluster.

"Peyton?" The voice called. It was a middle aged woman, with shoulder length curls. Her dress was wrinkled, and her pantyhose had a visible line running down her right leg. Peyton looked over to the voice.
"Y-yes miss?" She replied, hesitation lacing her voice. She was breathing rather heavily now, her heart ramming against her ribcage. She blinked a few times, not wanting to know where this was even beginning to go.

The woman looked her way, and smiled warmly. A fake smile. Peyton could tell. She extended an arm for the shy blonde to shake. Peyton started to stand up, and was almost falling over in a matter of seconds.
"Hello, you must be Peyton! I'm Mrs. Peterson, the school councillor. I hear your interested in becoming a student councillor?" Peyton just shook her head. She really could manage to do much else at the time. She raised a hand to meet the older woman's in a halfhearted handshake. After both hands retreated, Mrs Peterson gestured to the door, as if she expected it to just open on her command. It didn't.

Peyton ran a hand harshly through her blonde locks. Her fingers danced through the strands, weaving back and forth between the knots and tangles. Her eyes darted nervously to Mrs peterson's, and then retreated to the floor.

To Peyton, the floor was like a universal sighn of "I don't want to talk to you, this is awkward". Well that wasn't the case with the councillor. She just opened the door and let herself through before the blonde followed.

They started to walk the halls, with Mrs Peterson stopping every 2 seconds to explain something, or tell a small antidote about a place or picture.

This went on for a good hour or so, until finally the woman led her to her class and let her go. (Not before waving, and a fake "goodbye" first)

Peyton stood in front of the door, looking at the wood, studying the patterns Engraved on it for eternity. Her eyes darted from line to line, inspecting each piece of the door. She wanted to go in the room, go make friends, have fun, but something inside of her was weighing her down keeping her tucked away outside the room. Afraid of the outside world, and what reality has to offer.

Her thoughts floated around for a while until she finally got the courage to open the door. It slowly creaked open. She started to panic once more, but soon felt better at the fact that the rowdy class hasn't even noticed her presence yet. She let out a sigh of relief, and looked around the room for an empty seat.

There was a group of boys messing around with a pen, trying to write things on themselves. I'm the other side was a big group of girls on their phones, and gossiping about God knows what. And finally, in the front corner of the room was a large desk with many little pictures and trinkets. There was a name plate standing upright in the corner of the dead reading: "Clair". No last name, Just Clair. Peyton's eyes finally settles on an empty seat in the far corner, that looked broken and crooked. She sighed, and drugged her shoulders. It's what I got. She thought to herself.

She forced her feet to move towards the lone desk, and took a seat. The chair let out an audible squeak at the sudden change of weight. Peyton nearly stilled, trying not to make a sound. Trying not to get noticed. Her eyes jumped nervously from place to place, landing on faces and little posters around the room.