The Clockwise Spell

Chapter 3

I’m not a girly-girl. Yes, I do have a sense of style – I’m not completely dense – but I’ve never been particularly concerned about fashion before – that was more Rosie’s area.

So don’t ask me why, on my first day of school, I spent an hour and a half to take a shower, blow-dry my hair, and do my make-up absolutely perfectly (why wouldn’t that one pimple on the side of my nose go away?). I made sure that my curls weren’t messed up, with one of them slightly pinned up (not that this part really worked – my curls seemed to be permanently frizzy).

I studied my reflection in the mirror. It was the third outfit I had tried on, and included a black t-shirt and some dark jean shorts with my black flats.

I looked like I was going to a funeral. Although considering I was heading to a new school where I knew exactly one cocky guy and his annoying bad feeling brother, it might be a good outfit for the day.

The first outfit I had tried on looked too casual, the second too formal, and now this one was too depressing. I stomped over to my closet, yanking the door open. Except, all that was left in there were my winter clothes.

One glance over my shoulder confirmed – all my summer clothes were currently in a heap on my bed. I cast a frantic glance at the clock. 8:30. Schools here started at 9:00 (one of the few upsides to moving. My school in Timson started at 7:30). If I wanted to get to school on time, I had about, oh, ten minutes.

Including time to eat breakfast.

I grabbed the first shirt I saw off the bed and pulled it on. The white shirt was loose, slightly longer in the back, with an abstract pattern full of color on the top giving it a slightly Indian look. I pulled on some black shorts and some red Tom’s to complete it.

One glance in the mirror made me smile. My pale blue eyes popped out with the outfit. I grabbed my brown leather jacket off of my bed and my black messenger bag, before heading downstairs for some breakfast. I could do this. I looked fine. I would be fine.

Hopefully.

~~~

Salem High School wasn’t a school. No. Of course, SHS had to be a castle.

No joke. It was probably an actual castle at some point. The light brown building took up the entire block, with a huge entrance in the center. It even had towers. Students lounged on the steps, chatting. Girls squealed as they saw each other after a summer of not.

Freshmen looked nervous, walking up the steps in groups not wanting to be late for their first day of high school. I saw a guy with a map, and while I was jealous, I didn’t want to be caught with that (it was like wearing a sign saying ‘Warning, Warning! I am new here and have no friends to show me around!’ on your forehead). Students pulled up in the shiny new cars. I could even point out the cliques – the jocks, geeks, the popular girls, and the misfits.

It was about as cliché as it could get.

My mouth went dry at the sight of the huge school, my confidence from this morning fading. I wish I could have taken comfort in the fact that everyone else was going through the “Oh gosh, it’s the first day, what do I wear?” thing. But it didn’t look like anyone had had to throw on the first shirt they found on their bed because they ran out of time, even if that shirt had been a little rumpled. They probably had planned their outfits in advance.

Great. And I was probably the only junior arriving on their bike. Their beaten up, paint peeling, rattling bike. With broken brakes.

An ache filled my chest all of the sudden.  Here, I had no friends. I had no one to walk up the steps and squeal hi to (not that I would squeal to my friends). I had no one to compare my class list to, no one to find my way through high school with. I had no one (except Rosie, but she’s my sister, so that doesn’t really help).