Scarlet Blossom

January 1st, 2015

I stared at my reflection with all concentration, this had to be done, I had to groom myself into a better version of me. For the first time, I have the liberty to do this, I had to exploit it. I could waste some time and look fabulous, or at least what the leashes of my bodily imperfections would allow. I forced one eye lid down as I brought the eyeliner wand to it. A jet black stroke traced the end of my lid, as faint and slender as possible, by an amateur. Slowly I opened my eye and the result looked quite satisfying. Then, I did my other eye, by now my patience wore thin. I did not have the zeal in me any longer to continue that vexing task. So even though I loused up that one, I was going with the flow anyway. So I finally learned how to put on eyeliner!!! Well, kind of, I messed up the other one. But I was elated with the result as all in all it did not look bad. But, I was running late by then.

A step out of the door and every inch, every fiber of my body froze. I shivered from head to toe. My thick jacket did not protect me against this very alien weather. I had never been exposed to such cold. In India, never. I was incredibly cold but the thought of walking into my new school in a whole new country made my heart pound, I got a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. The blistering cold could not keep me from sweating the beads of eminence fear and nervousness that surged through me. I shoved my hands in my pockets, partly because of the weather and partly because that made me feel a little at ease. That swiftly took me on a trip down memory lane, the private school that I used to previously go to had strict rules against walking with one's hand in their pocket, as they proclaimed it emitted a sense of disrespect, me being me, I would purposely walk around with my hands in my pocket and when I got chided for it I would try to justify it by claiming I was just searching for something in my pocket. This I did for the sheer joy of evoking exasperation in my teachers.

In about fifteen minutes I had walked up the pathway leading up to my new school, Alpine High School. My stomach tied into a knot, the colossal space in front of me swarmed with students each different from the other, that intimidated me quite a bit. Previously everyone looked pretty much the same at school. A wide stretch of white and blue. Blue tie, spotless white shirt, blue pinafore, all neatly ironed, as immaculate as it can be. The pinafore had to rest exactly an inch above the knee. A belt with the school emblem clutched around the waist. Polished, black, leather Plimsoll shoes with immaculate white socks. Even the slightest bit out of the order would result in serious repercussions. Here it was a festival of colors. All a tune of their own. A riot of expressing oneself.

"Good Morning!" Miss Peron chimed when she saw me walk into the suite. "This is your schedule for the year." Miss Peron continued, "Now that you are here..." Addressing to all of us, "I will be showing y'all around the school." She had a wide and warm grin, she looked more like a friend than someone who ordered passiveness from one and all, different from what I was attuned to. I did not feel the need to bring my guards up around her or anyone I had met so far in this foreign land. We sauntered down a flight of stairs. "This is the cafeteria, now since you are all new here if you don't find lunch buddies just meet up right here at the entrance." It was rather a short tour. The bell had rung and they had been waiting for me for quite a while. Way to make an impression on the first day of school. Getting up early in the morning is and always will be my mortal enemy. Why could not there be afternoon school? That would be way better.

The first class listed on my schedule read 9th Lit/Comp, it made me grin ear to ear. Reading and writing have been my passion since 2nd grade. Every vacation I would fly to Mumbai to spend some time with my cousins. Ever so often I would make a mistake and my punishment was to write a five-page essay, this I used to vent out my frustration. I realized that penning down my thoughts was rather fun. Thus, I discovered my passion.

But all of a sudden, every step I took seemed to make me more anxious. I wanted to bolt out the nearest exit. It seemed as though every Hollywood movie I had ever watched flashed in front of me. This managed to flush all joy out of me. This is the time I could really use some known, friendly faces, but I was far far away from that. 8,431 miles to be precise. I took a deep breath, I can do this. Eyes to the ground, eyes to the ground, I kept reminding myself. Here goes nothing.

"Hello! A new student I am so excited!" I am guessing my English teacher, said buoyantly. I just smiled shyly, but I was not paying attention, as it was now in the hold of someone else. Diagonally opposite to me there he was. I felt oddly drawn to him. Our eyes met, I was well aware of the fact that he knew I was looking right at him and he me, but neither of us seemed to care. I was dazed. Neither of us smiled, but we just looked at each other for what seemed like an eternity. As though we were captivated by one another. I would stand here forever, stuck in the embrace of his gaze. But I tore my eyes away and looked at my teacher. "I am Shiloh." I later learned his name is Wyclef.

I trotted into the class making sure I do not look at him again. "Guys, we have a new student." A girl declared, referring to me obviously. "You should sit here." she pointed at the seat in front of her. "Thank you," I said in the most inaudible voice. I was seated behind him. He did not turn around or introduce himself. I did not bother to either.

9 classes, for a fact I can say English was the best. No, it is not because of "Dream Boy''. There are many reasons. First off, I love how everyone has a journal and we have to write in it each morning, about a topic appointed by the teacher. Today's topic was, "What is the song you would like to be playing when you come to school." I said, "Confident" by, Demi Lovato. As that was literally the song I was listening to a few minutes prior to that. D.B. (Dream Boy), said "Highway to hell". I am going to say that I remember this as I too agree with it. High school is hell. But...not this one. No, it is not because of D.B. Okay, maybe a little bit, an incidental part. Do I have a crush on him? It cannot be! Not after last time. Even if I do then I have to prepare my ludicrous heart to stop right there. I know indisputably no guy is ever going to like me. No matter how much they say love is blind, not in my life. Even if the right one comes along some day, it is not going to be him. He is too cute to fall for me. I really need to stop writing about D.B. so much. What if someone reads it? Is this what a journal is for? To write about everything that comes to my mind? Well, that is what I am going to use it for.

The first day of school and I already made so many friends. It turned out that Clarisse, the girl from English is also in my Algebra class. So she invited me to sit with her and her comrades.

Biology, Clarisse and her, our, friends are all in the same class. So is D.B.... What are the odds the teacher placed me right beside him, away from my friend and next to him! Not going to say I was dejected.

Peculiarly, all of them wished me "best of luck". I do not think people like him that much. As though he is the outlandish guy of the class. But his countenance said otherwise. Well, not like I have much acquaintance with good looking boys, coming from an all girls school.

To conclude my first day at Alpine High School, I love it much more than that god forsaken school I used to go to. The teachers are cordial and welcoming. They are, for a change, good at their job. It is much less peeving to not have to always be poised, elegant and ladylike. Always, tip-top in all. Rather, here it is much more laid back. Everyone has a voice, no one is suppressed by the authorities. I love it here. I wish to never look back.