Australians Don't Belong in Indiana

Chapter 1

It's hard being the new girl. It's even harder when you're from a different country. Today is my first day at Ridgeway High School, let alone my first day at a school in America. I grew up in Australia where it's always warm compared to here in Columbus, Indiana. My fears should include my first day at a new high school but the only thing on my mind has I run hands through my hair is the thought of losing my natural highlights in my thick, auburn-colored hair.

I wash off my body ad begin rinsing the remaining shampoo out of my hair. After several glances in the tiny excuse of a shower mirror, I am convinced there is no shampoo left and I lather my hair with conditioner. As I step out of the shower to dry off, I begin to think of what to wear for the iconic first day of school. I begin to realize how things have already changed drastically from my lifestyle in the southern hemisphere as I would normally FaceTime my best friend Kayla to determine my outfit for the day. Everything about my Australian lifestyle needed to remain in the past. Kayla had promised that she would text, call, e-mail, etc. even if it meant buying a new, more expensive, phone plan, but I haven't heard from her at all. She promised to write letters but I have yet to receive any, if they are coming at all.

I paused for a moment to reflect on the times Kayla and I had together but quickly reminded myself that I needed to focus on getting ready. Once my mind was clear of the past, I scrambled through my closet to find something to wear. This seemed to be a difficult task considering I hadn't organized my clothes despite the fact I had been in the states for well over a month. After minutes of searching through the surprisingly large closet, I manage to fine a pair of black shorts that were loose on my small frame of a body and a peach tank top to match. It was August in Indiana, but the heat was nothing compared to an average January day in Perth. I decided to accessorize with my favorite necklace, a golden chunky piece that lay perfectly on my collarbone.

I pick up my phone from my nightstand and search for a calming song to play in the background as I continued to get ready. Without noise in the distance, my anxiety levels would raise to unbearable measures. Normally, I would turn on the TV but our cable was still out despite the numerous calls we have made to the local company. I finally give up on searching for the "perfect" song and select a random station on Spotify to ease my nerves.

I make my way down the stairs to see my mom before she leaves. My dad doesn't live with us, and he's partially to blame for our move to the states. My parents separated about eight years ago over something my mom never bothered to tell me. I wasn't allowed to see him anymore and I was so young that now, the thought doesn't even bother me. All I do know is that he found himself attempting to make his way back into my mother's life and one thing led to another and here I am in Columbus, Indiana.

My mom is an oncologist for kids and is my personal hero. As I lean in to give her a quick hug, she grabs both sides of my face and wishes me good luck on my first day. We stand there for a few seconds looking at each other. It is then that I realize how much we look alike. Our blue eyes are what really make us look similar. I break the now awkward silence and glance at my phone. I realize that I need to leave and wish my mom good luck and that I will see her at dinner.

I rush outside with a granola bar in hand for breakfast. I take a bite and realize that I am too nervous to eat as I step inside my maroon colored Jeep Wrangler. After putting the address for the high school in my GPS, I took a few deep breaths to reduce my anxiety. I scanned a few of the local radio stations and found an alternative station to fit my taste.

I arrive at the school ten minutes early, but it seems as if I'm the last person to show up. The parking lot is completely filled with students. Maybe they were all early, but it was doubtful. As I looked around the parking lot, it reminded me of a cliché cafeteria with all of the different social groups segregated. The "popular" group was on one end with designer bags in hand and hair styled to perfection, the "stoners" with droopy eyes on another, and then somewhere in between were the average middle-class people. I did notice one strange kid in his own little corner of the parking lot standing alone. I noticed white earbuds peeking out of his black jacket and continuing up to his ear. I parked next to him, partially because I was intrigued, but it was also what seemed to be the only parking space left in the lot.

I could feel everyone's eyes on me as I pulled up to the mysterious boy's beaten up, baby blue mustang. I couldn't help but think about why he was so alone. There was nothing physically wrong with him. He was seemingly attractive to the eye but maybe there was something I didn't know and had yet to find out.

Everyone's eyes were still fixated on me as I stepped down from my Jeep. That is, everyone except for the boy I was now only two feet away from. As I started walking towards the large building that was my new school, a peppy blonde walked up to me and began talking. She spoke so quickly the only phrases I could make out were,

"OMG! I love your outfit. Where did you get it? Are you new here?"

I attempted to answer her questions by saying,

"I got them back in Australia, and yeah, I moved about two months ago."

She didn't hesitate before commenting on my "amazing" accent.

I turned my head to respond, only to realize that she was no longer next to me. Instead, she was surrounded by a bunch of girls who mimicked her style and physical characteristics, no surprise there. They seemed to be your average popular, stuck up, prissy bitches you can find at any given high school.

I made my way to the front office to pick up my schedule when the lady at the desk informed me that there were a "few" forms I needed to fill out first. I sighed; irritated at the fact that the forms were not completed when my mom came to register me. The woman handed me a stack of about five papers with a pen and pointed begrudgingly at the chair behind me. I sat down and decided to attack the form on top first. Whether my mom was to blame or the distasteful lady behind the desk was beyond me. I reverted my thoughts back to the stack of papers in front of me. The first blank was my name, easy enough. I scribbled Scarlett Barnes across the top and moved onto the next section. This continued for about an hour or two due to the handful of phone calls I had to make in order to get the correct information from my mom.

I stood up and shuffled over to the front desk and handed the unpleasant lady my forms. Once she took her time reviewing all of them, she typed a few things into her outdated computer and printed out my class schedule, handing me a map schedule and sending me on my way. I was so distracted by my dislike for the lady at the front desk that I completely forgot about my nerves and going to class. I looked at the map in search for what would be my third block class.

It took me a couple tries to get the right hallway but I managed to find Brantley Hall and walk casually to room 342. Before stepping inside, I took a few deep breathes and prepared myself for the Gifted Lit. class I was going to walk into.

The block was halfway over and no matter how I entered the room, I knew everyone was going to stare at me, just like in the parking lot.

I tried to open the door quietly, but to my disadvantage, the hinges made a loud squeaking noise that was hard to ignore. Refusing to turn my face towards the group of eyeballing pupils that were curious of my identity, I walked directly to the teacher to hand him the piece of paper from the front desk. Awaiting a response, I stood there as he looked at me.

He looked down towards the paper and looked back up to me before asking, "So you're Scarlett Barnes?"

"That's me," I replied nervously.

I could barely make out the whispers which consisted of the same words concerning my accent I had heard since my first day in America. I turned to face the wide-eyed class and scanned the room for an empty seat. There was on in the back left-hand corner of the classroom and I walked hastily towards it, trying not to make eye contact with anyone. I sat down and waited for the teacher Mr. Haines to begin teaching again. It took him a minute to begin due to the obnoxious chatter in the room, but once he did, I realized he was giving a lecture on the history of Edgar Allen Poe.

It was a long, but seemingly short, first day of school. Fourth block, the last block of the day, ended quickly and I was the last one out of the classroom.

I reached my Jeep and couldn't help but notice that the baby blue Mustang that was parked next to me this morning was already gone. I began thinking about where the boy may have disappeared to. It didn't really matter but something about me wanted to know where the strange being that had once been less than two feet away from me was.

Hey, I basically re-wrote this entire chapter. If you're still out there, thanks for being patient :)