Isolation (Book #1 of the Taylor Series)

Twenty-Six

I'd never thought that I'd be happy to go to school again. However, after three weeks of doing nothing except sleeping, going to work, and then dealing with my family, I would've begun begging for it if I had to. Now here I am, happily picking out the correct binders for my classes ahead. If I wasn't already getting strange looks from my compeers, I would've probably inhaled the scent of the hallway air.

The thought disgusts me the instant it crosses my mind. I must have a psychogenic disorder if I find happiness in the malodor of sweat mixed with cheap cleaning products. 

Perhaps it's not the school I miss, but the freedom of attending. I got my phone and computer back. I'm allowed to go places other than work and home, and I no longer have to say that I need to go to the mall to buy Lauren something. I can go for myself.

These rich kids don't realize how good they've got it. Being able to go to school or any place for that matter. Some people don't have the right. Of course, I still don't have permission to see Blake. 

Mom's still worried that I might get pregnant, drop out of school, marry him, end up working as a drug dealer to pay my bills, and then end up getting arrested, spending the rest of my life in a jail where I'll then die and be sent to a fiery pit of doom. She has a lot of faith in god, but not in her daughter, and that fact isn't a shock to anyone who knows her.

I slam my locker shut, and as I begin to walk away, I take notice of the odd looks I'm receiving from nearly everyone. Some are glaring, some have a look of complete and utter surprise, and some seem confused as if they don't understand why everyone is staring at me. I relate to this. 

Though, I started my period today. I hope that I haven't already gotten blood on my pants or something. However, something tells me that that isn't it. These people don't seem disgusted in the natural order of the female body. (Surprisingly).

I shrug it off and walk down the hallway, in the direction of my next class. Hopefully, the weirdness of my classmates is just a symptom of waking up at 6 AM on a Monday. Then again most of the people in Orem are born weird. 

Luckily, I was born in San Diego. I wait outside of Dr. Daniels' classroom as his homeroom pours out of the door. I slide my finger across my phone screen, and I read through all zero of my notifications to avoid making eye contact with random people.

"Oh good, Miss Nicholson, you're back." Dr. Daniels greets me with a wide smile and I nod, not as enthused to see him as he is me. After all, I've seen his temper against me. He's seen mine, but he's a better fake person than I am. "Not going to start any trouble again, are we?"

I hold back a snort. Start trouble? Last I checked, that stupid Max Fuller was the one who "started" it. Not to mention that it's quite childish for a teacher to even bring up past drama. Isn't it a teacher's job to forgive and overlook the past of their students? Unless, of course, they've committed some heinous crime, which I definitely didn't.

"No sir," I mutter instead, not taking my eyes off of my phone. 

I can tell that he's bothered by my lack of interest in conversation with him. I'm usually among the very few students who enjoy engaging in conversations with their teachers, taking interest in the personal lives of their educators. Not today, and definitely not with Dr. Daniels.

"Alright, good." He says just as the room empties, and I stalk abruptly into the room, abandoning him outside. He walks in right after me, and I sit down in my assigned seat. I take out my binder and open it to a fresh sheet of paper. "Nicholson," I glance up at him, and he does the white stranger smile, "You're a good student. I don't want to have to send you up to the office again. Next time, just ignore Fuller like the rest of us." I can tell it's a joke because of his adult giggle, but I subtly roll my eyes.