Mannequin Madness

Chapter One

The car wheels sloshed in the puddles as we slowed to stop. The heater abruptly turned off with the engine and the car started cooling instantly.

“Have a nice day, honey,” my mum said. “Be polite, make lots of friends and for god sake, fix your hair. It’s a mess.”

“Sure,” I mumbled, absentmindedly flattening my hair. I was preoccupied eying the school with distaste. Students were rushing past the aging brick building to seek shelter from the rain. They gathered in groups, talking, laughing. Just old friends catching up. I wish I stayed in one place long enough to make ‘old friends.’ I wish I had friends here, but I was the new girl. In the previous two days no one had spoken more than three words to me.

If I were lucky, today people would become interested in the new kid. Maybe they’d even decide to become helpful and save me from getting lost again. In the books and movies, people are always fascinated with new students, not that I want to be the centre of attention. Oh, no. But a guide would be nice, and maybe someone to talk to every now and then. But I live in this dreadful place called Reality and nothing ever seems to go the way I want it to.

With a sigh I snatched my rucksack from the floor of the car and turned to bid my mother goodbye. “Remember, school finishes as quarter past three so, please, don’t forget to pick me up,” I said, silently praying that she wouldn’t leave me stranded. It wouldn’t be the first time she’s gotten herself lost in her work, and I really didn’t want to walk all the way home through a town I’ve yet to learn the name of.

“Don’t worry, Penelope. I’ll be right here,” she assured me, tugging on the end of her grey pencil skirt. She was going for the professional look today.

“Okay,” I nodded and turned to let myself out of the car.

“Wait wait wait. Hold your horses, sweetheart,” she grasped my shoulders and turned me back to face her. “Your hair is still far too messy,” she licked her index finger and fiddled around with my fringe.

“Really, Penelope, you have lovely hair. I don’t know why you don’t do anything with it,” she sighed. Uncomfortable, I fidgeted and smiled in agreement. I didn’t want to start a confrontation. If only she knew. I wanted to let out a grumble, maybe a brief, blunt dismissive goodbye, but I didn’t. Instead, I nodded again and let myself out of the car.

If my life were a dramatic chick-flick, this would be the part where a mysterious hot guy would saunter up to me and offer to show me around. Then a pretty popular girl would squeal and run over to me, gushing over the hot guy and we’d immediately become best friends. We’d discover that we had all our classes together and she’d introduce me to everyone worth knowing.

That didn’t happen. I knew it wouldn’t happen. It never happened, no matter how many times the situation presented itself. Because I’m still living in this horrible rainy place called Reality where the students of this particular secondary school just shuffled past me in groups. Some would throw me a curious glance but most of them were too preoccupied to notice me.

It even started raining harder.

Now soaking wet, I rushed into the building and tried to pull a route from my memory. I didn’t want to be late, not on my third day of school, not when it would cause everyone to stare at me as I entered, not ever.

When I got to the classroom –after a heated internal debate about the directions I desperately needed, but didn’t want to ask for- I let out a sigh of relief. Not only had I made it before the bell, but there was someone already there, too. A girl my age with brown eyes, eyebrows that were a few shades too dark to match her hair, which had been dyed a golden blonde and a mobile in her hand. She looked nice, approachable even.