Life As A High School Wallflower

Keller, Wyoming. Population: Me.

( One: Keller, Wyoming. Population: Me. )

I've always hated planes. Some fear of heights combined with a fear of enclosed spaces, but I can safely say that I did not hyperventilate once on the flight from Jefferson, Iowa to Keller, Wyoming. In different circumstances, I might have, but I can boast that the problem didn't come. Mostly because I was asleep. And because I had a stack of books about as tall as my own height to read. My nose was stuck in a book the entire time, and I did not once glance out to see the country side. Some of you might be gasping in shock here: the beautiful, beautiful sights you're missing! Well I'd be missing them a lot more if I were stuck in a bathroom puking. I do not like the bright white of the toilet while my head is stuck in it, thus my reason for refraining from drinking. 

My phone was buzzing the entire times with texts from the friends I was leaving behind. Not many, actually. Only two that were close enough to actually care - Samantha Harrison and Kierra Parker, who were like siamese twins despite the fact that they were complete opposites. And when I say opposites? I mean opposites. Sam has mocha skin and black hair, and Kierra is a pale blonde. They are both incredibly pretty, as opposed to me. I had ashy blonde hair and green eyes, and it was simple as that, literally. I was no stunning model. I didn't put on so much make-up that I went from a good hundred and thirty pounds to hundred and fifty each morning. 

I was sorry to be leaving them, but I've always been the type of girl that enjoyed moving versuses dragging her feet and crying. Back to the plane flight. I was seated in front of an annoying kid who kicked the back of my seat without stopping for an hour straight. When his mom went to go to the bathroom, I turned around and told him he better stop or I'd throw him out the window. Yes, I was that annoyed. Needless to say, he did not bother me for the two hours that followed.

When we landed, I was a bit wobbly legged, like someone who had been on the sea too long. Oddly enough, I loved water. My freshman year, I had been a big part of the swim team, as well as gymnastics and girl's basketball. I have always been very sporty, and have always gotten along better with guys rather than girls. This year was different. There was too much to do for me to be 'involved', and why be part of a team when I'm leaving the school in a few months any way?

On that note, I have never understood the point of school spirirt. We spend four years in the place but they expect as to be all 'hooray' and 'whoo' for the football and cheerleaders, but never really any other team. I sense favoritism going on here. 

I got sidetracked again. So I stepped off the plane. It was early in the morning and middle of the winter, so it was chilly out. My breath curled in the air in front of me as I stalked to the luggage, bundled up in so many jackets and scarves that I was sweating. I was sure I looked like some kind of deformed eskimo, and the looks people were shooting me confirmed the suspicion. I waddled, picked up the bright purple suitcase that I had packed full of clothes - my parents had decided to send me ahead of them so I could get situated into school and be there when it started instead coming in halfway through the year - and finally gave up on trying to accomplish something with the layers of clothes on my frame.

I took a deep breath and peeled off the jacket, the cool air instantly hitting my heated skin and making me shiver. It seemed there was no in-between here - hot or cold. My hair was pulled up into a pony tail, my favored hairstyle because it was both easy and fast, and I was dressed in my favorite outfit for the occasion of moving into my currently-empty-but-will-soon-be-new house. When I say it was my favorite outfit, let me explain that it is certainly not my best.

In fact, it is a pair of ripped up jeans and a tank top that requires me to wear several undershirts  because, unfortunately, I have a bust that is too large for me to handle in just one shirt. You might be thinking wait a minute. Too large? Ha! I have some news for you. Big boobs are the most annoying thing that I have personally ever encountered. If guys enjoy them so much, they may feel free to take them, because these suckers annoy the hell out of me.

My phone was still buzzing like a bee in my front pocket and I was casually ignoring it, not wanting to deal with the squeals and tears that Samantha and Kierra were sure to display upon hearing that I had, indeed, touched down and that meant there would be no devious plot to conjure that would stop my mom and dad from sending me away.

As much as I loved Sammy and Kierra, they were known for being melodramatic. I had already been promised plane tickets back to Iowa to see them, and that was good enough for me. I would spend all summer there - that was better than actually living there, since I never got to have friends over. My parents were a bit of recluses. The bleeding heart artists that had dragged themselves out of poverty and quietly gave money away from the sidelines. Despite their lack of friendly natures, I love my parents. We don't get along often, though. Our personalities often clash, and that has made actually speaking to them about any problems a may have a lot more difficult. 

I did not like the thought of spending two, nearly three weeks without them. But I knew it was necessary, so I obeyed the list they had left for me and picked up my things, moving towards the airport doors. They slid open and stepped through into the cool Wyoming air. Cars roared past me, bringing with them a mixture of warm and cold breezes. I couldn't help the smile that came across my features as I lifted my eyes up to the sky. It was a cloudy day, overcast. Not a pretty day to most people, but I could see the glimmer of the sun behind those clouds, and I knew tomorrow or the day after would be sunny and warm. That was how Wyoming was, after all. I had done my research.

There were some people loitering about, but I couldn't see the bleach blonde hair of my sister that I was searching for. The crowd filed around me, some people shooting me curious smiles. It was not often a sixteen year old girl flew alone, no matter the amount of trust her parents placed in her.

A car alarm went off somewhere in the distance and a slim brunette with french manicured nails and a haughty air ran passed me, the image complete with a pair of five inch black stilettos and a short skirt. Several male gazes followed her until she was out of sight. I watched this all with a thoughtful expression. I'm a bit of a people watcher.

My sister pulled up in her rusty, beat up old cadillac and honked for my attention. Grateful, a grabbed my suitcase and lunged for the door, just as someone stepped into the pathway I had intended. I landed on my bottom with an omph, the items of my suitcase spilling out onto the floor. The person above me chuckled. I glared up at them. The sun shined perfectly down that I could just see the faint muscular build of a boy. He was too slim to be an athlete, but handsome enough, i supposed.The assesment took two seconds and my attention was back on my things, gathering up what I could before they could be trampled.

"Did you want me help?" The boy drawled as I stuffed several tampons and a shirt into the black case. I glared up at him - only partially because he was actually irritating me. That sun really blared into your eyes when you looked straight at it.

"Yes. That would be nice." I grounded out from clenched teeth and he immediately dropped to his knees to help me. Well I was at least thankful for that. Before we get any further into the story, let me explain something. I am not a people person. I am not a guy person. I make friends and I keep that small group around me and that is it. I don't trust any kind of male version - whether he's nerdy and sweet or a jerk of a jock. It doesn't matter to me.  I've had too much experience with my friends and my sister to care how nice I look. Guys are guys. Don't be fooled - you probably won't marry the guy you date in highschool.

Back to what was currently happening. As nice as he appeared, the guy who was chivalriously picking up my stuff was irritating me. He had a smirk on his lips and he kept sneaking glances at me from the corner of his eye. Needless to say, as soon as the last shirt was folded and placed back in it's assigned area, I was gone, mumbling a quick thank you over my shoulder. I'd almost made it to the car when I felt him catch my elbow and turn me around. I huffed out a breath angrily.

"Sorry about spilling your stuff. I'm Jace." He said, that lopsided grin still on his lips. He stuck out a hand in offering. I frowned and glanced down at it distastefully, and I could feel the word 'bitch' written across my face as I fell back a step and smiled sweetly.

"I'm late. Thank you for helping." I chirped and hopped off the sidewalk to run to my sister's car. I glanced back once, but he was lost in the crowd. I had a feeling, however, that I was not lucky enough to have been rid of him that soon. He had looked young. Around my age, certainly not older than eighteen. If luck was on my side, he was a tourist. If not, he went to my new school - there was only one in Keller, so no chance of him going to another.

Great. I was not known for my luck.