Imogens bracelet (Watty Awards 2014)

New girl

Imogen turned up halfway through science one summer term morning. She came through the brown,gum covered doorway hiding behind Mrs Anders who simply handed her over with an expression of relive and left in a hurry. Mr Grant had only the briefest chat with her at the desk and turned to the rest of us, who were looking curiously at her.

" Year 7, this is Imogen Tate who is joining us from another school." Mr Grant said.

Imogen looked embarrassed as we stared. She was dressed in our navy uniform with her blond hair in bunches, secured with black hair bands. She was really pretty and very feminine, but there was nothing particularly interesting about her. Despite that, everyone wanted to first term minder. Everyone but me.

"I pick......." Mr Grant announced," Grace!"

" What?" I exclaimed," I never put my hand up!"

The other kids looked disappointed as they put their hopeful paws down.

" That doesn't matter, Grace" Mr Grant said, " It'll be nice for you to put someone in that empty seat."

I definitely didn't think so, but I couldn't say anything but mutter curses at Mr Grant under my breath.

Maybe I should explain. I'm the class bookworm, I don't mix well with the other pupils because I find reading more interesting than them. All the way from primary to secondary school, teachers and some kids tried to prise my books away from my hands and get me to join in with the others.

Yet I still prefer reading.

But you can't be rude to someone who is new and trembling as well as standing there awkwardly. So I just patted the blue stool next to me and she shyly walked over. As Imogen was busy getting out her pens and pencils  I finally thought of something friendly to say.

" Oh my, that bracelet you've got is really pretty! Is it real gold?"

She nodded hesitantly.

"My Great great Grandma had it and it's been passed down to all the females in the family. And now I've got it." She took it off and handed it to me. It had strange markings on it. A bit like this: ð§þ«¤¤§Ð•

Some bits were Greek but the rest was just symbols. It was thin and slinky and cold, like it had been taken out of the fridge.

" You are really lucky, I've never had anything passed down to me" I murmured.

As if I had reminded her of something, she gave me a look I couldn't identify, and said, barely audible; " Then maybe YOU are the lucky one".

I glanced side ways at her." What do you mean?"

But she wouldn't answer and said hardly anything apart from " Do I use a pen or pencil for this?" or " Do I do it in my red book or blue book?"

What she didn't realise was that what she had said, stuck in my mind. It was like a clue from a book. It stuck out like a hobo amongst suited people. It was strange!