Cecile's New School

New School, New Sidekick, and New Words like 'Bitch' (WHY AM I IN PARENTHESES?!)

Chapter One

'Blake F. High School.  Letting anyone in since 1978.' 

"So this is where my story begins, huh?"  A smile broke out onto our heroine's face as she read the sign of her new high school.  A breeze made her ponytail and her skirt flutter behind her dramatically like something out of a B-rated movie.  The heroine tucked stray flyways behind her ears. 

Cliched entry to her own story, check!  Now for the time skip!

👱🏻‍♀️

Counselor Oakley looked at the new girl from behind a messy desk.  The student only knew it was a desk due to its elevation and 'Counselor Oakley' name plate on top of the scattered papers.

The older person leaned back into the chair.  The chair creaked in refusal like a cat that had its tail stepped on. 

"So you're the new kid, huh?  Cecil Braydon?  Are you a troublemaker?"  The Counselor leaned in and hissed morning breath into the girl's face.  The chair squeaked again as if the screws were going to fall out of it any second. 

Cecile smiled confidently through the person's bad breath.  "It's actually pronounced 'seh•SEAL'!  I am the new kid, but not a troublemaker... Sir-slash-Ma'am.  I'm going to be the most popular kid in school!"  She explained to the counselor with a tiny stumble.  The counselor gave an bored nod and looked back to Cecile's transferral papers.

Cecile watched Counselor Oakley while he-slash-she wasn't looking.  It was like observing an animal in its natural habitat.  The counselor looked as if it didn't care who was watching.  It scratched itself and snorted like a lazy cat laying down in the sun. 

Cecile seriously couldn't tell if the counselor was a male or a female based off of the person's looks or actions. 

Counselor Oakley gave an indifferent sniff and looked back to Cecile's shining face.  "All righty then."  The muscular person said before it got up from behind the desk.  The chair the Counselor got up from squeaked with relief. 

Cecile watched with curiosity as Oakley went over to the office's door and harshly threw it open. The door strangely swung open to the outside.  Due to this, the heavy wood crashed into a passing boy in the process. 

"OWCH!  FU-nnel cake sounds good right now..."  He yelled before catching himself.  He looked away from his assaulter as he tenderly held his bruised arm. 

The counselor fist pumped the air in victory.  "Caught one!  Now listen Fletcher!  You'll show this young lady around the school.  I'm too uninterested to care, so I can't." 

The boy used his extremely tall height as an advantage to look over Counselor Oakley's head to the new girl.  He studied her through his plain black glasses.  She was sitting down so her short skirt revealed some of her soft thigh, her long hair waved behind her in a high ponytail like a thick banner, her small face shined with flawlessness, and her reflective light blue eyes matched his gaze evenly. 

Fletcher couldn't hear of course, but 'We're Going to be Friends' by The White Stripes played in the girl's mind when she looked at this boy's face.  Her smirk grew into a victorious and toothy grin.  She had found him.

Foster smirked when he was done looking her up and down.  He looked back at Counselor Oakley.  "What's in it for me?"  He asked, trying to get more out of the already sweet looking deal of walking around a pretty girl. 

The older person held out a slip of paper.  "A hall pass for not being tardy.  If you don't want to do it, then I can have you clean the boy's locker room-" "C'mon, new girl!  Let's go!"  He started to sweat as he snatched the hall pass from the merciless counselor.  Memories of sophomore year in the boy's locker room haunted him.  The filth and the ghosts...  He shivered.