Bumps on the Road [on hold]

Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Camdyn

The thing that really sucks about private school is that, even though you get out of school in May instead of June, like the public schools do, it means your first day of school is two weeks earlier than theirs.

Today is Tuesday, August 6, the first day of school. It's also the first day of my personal version of hell.

As I walk down the hall, I feel like everyone is looking at me. Whispering about me. Of course, they're not actually talking about me; I'm invisible as always. I'm just paranoid.

“Cammie!” The sound of my own name startles me so badly that I jump nearly a foot into the air.

“Whoa. You okay? You seem really nervous.” My body relaxes as my best—and pretty much only—friend comes closer.

“I'm fine, Phoebe. Did you pick up your stuff yet?”

“Nope, I was waiting for you.”

We make our way over to the tables with the “Welcome Back, Seniors!” sign hanging above them. Phoebe goes over to the C through F table while I head over to O through S.

“Last name?” the PTA mom that's volunteering asks.

“Reed.”

“Camdyn?”

I nod and she hands me a bag before shooing me away so she can get to the rest of the line.

“Why are these packages always so damn fancy?” Phoebe exclaims, shaking her bag.

She has a point. Each student gets a dark blue bag tied shut with gold ribbon on the first day of school. Our names are written across the front in glittery paint—parent volunteers actually have time to do that? It really is a bit extreme, but our school tends to go out of its way to look more prestigious than it really is. Honestly, it just makes us look snooty and presumptuous.

The contents of the bag are far less exciting than the bag itself. We get a lock for our lockers—the same lockers we've had since freshman year—a school handbook, a copy of our schedule, and a T-shirt for spirit days.

“You ask that question every year. Let's go to our lockers and head to homeroom before the hallway gets too crowded.”

Phoebe and I have to shove past a bunch of underclassmen to get to the middle of the 100 building, where our lockers are. The entire time, I try to keep my gaze low and follow Phoebe.

“Hey, Cam!” Not only is it surprising that someone other than Phoebe knows my name, but the person that calls me is male. What really confuses me, however, is the fact that he called me Cam. Everyone calls me Camdyn, except for the people closest to me who call me Cammie.

Phoebe lets out a slightly strangled sound. “Umm, Phoebe?”

“That's Trent Walker,” she whispers sharply, “I'm pretty sure you and him were flirting at the party, but...erm...yeah. You were kind of out of it.”

“Right.” I grimace.

I can’t resist sneaking a glance at him as Phoebe pulls me along. He’s lean and tall, significantly taller than my petite stature, with messy, brown hair and a dimpled smile that would make any girl weak in the knees. I must’ve been incredibly inebriated to have been able to talk to him, let alone flirt.

I'm at a loss for words and the warning bell almost makes me jump for joy. I toss a quick wave in his direction and hurry down the hall.

“You should’ve talked to him.”