Learn Your Lesson

Chapter 1

Stereotyping was the surviving co-ordinance at McKimberly High…yeah; I know that sounds really matter-of-fact because you most likely already know that that’s the only way to fit in at any high school; McKimberly was different though. Like every single person belonged to a certain group, and if they weren’t in their right place, they stood right out - like a prostitute hanging around with a bunch of nuns in Notre Dame. Don’t get me wrong, I loved Notre Dame - despite me being the age of eight. Jennifer said she went to France but found it incredibly boring, especially when her parents observed every painting, every bolt on the Eiffel Tower and critiqued bitterly on every piece of cheese. Jennifer hates cheese. She told me she threw up when she heard the squeak of Haloumi against her teeth. I personally love cheese, especially grilled haloumi. Jennifer and I are quite different, which was why it came such a shock to me when she asked me to be her friend.

 I met her the first day of year seven. I was shy, pale and timid…well, timid is basically the same word as shy so I think you get the message of how excruciatingly unsocial I was. I sat alone in the corner of the class, drawing a fawn in my notebook. I can’t remember how long I must’ve been sitting there, fifteen minutes or so until I heard the door bang and the painful lecturing voice of Miss Snooki. I didn’t bother looking up. I knew it was just some stupid guy who ‘got lost’ after spending the last ten minutes ‘studying’.

“It’s your first day. Studying is not required, and neither are lame excuses. Go sit down.”

I added detail to my fawn – the curl of its antlers, the small strokes of grey-lead for hair. I felt someone plop next to me, sigh and fiddle with their pencil case. They smelt like tobacco, but I didn’t dare mention anything.

A sudden shadow overcast me and I paused, overly self-conscious of my drawing of a deer in a forest. It all looked so babyish and magical.

 “That’s sick!” she said. She? I thought…

I looked up and blushed at the girl. She was gorgeous, even though she was caked with makeup she’d obviously done somewhere on the run because she’d smudged mascara on her temple and her foundation hadn’t been rubbed in properly.

"Are you like, an artist?”

“Uh…no.”

“Oh. Well, good. Art sucks if you ask me. My folks are crazy over it – spending loads of money on canvases with flippin’ triangles on it. I could do even better for a fraction of the price. People these days, just don’t under- oh my god!” she grabbed a hunk of my hair. I was in such shock I almost fell off my seat.

 “Did you dye this? It’s so gorgeous! It’s like, champagne. Wow! What product did you use? Could you like, recommend something for me?” she stroked it until I shook my head.

“Oh, so it’s like, a family recipe? Does your mum make hair dye or something? I bet she used a whole bottle of vinegar to get this colour.”

“No, it’s natural.”

She slammed her hands on the desk suddenly which made me jump.

“Shut. The. Fudge. Up!”

“No, really,” I giggled.

"You’re so lucky!” she said pulling at her mousy hair. “I can’t get mine dyed till I’m like, sixteen, but stuff that. My god, you’re so skinny as well. Seriously, have you never had a quarter-pounder in your life?”

“Well no but-”

“I’ll have to take you sometime. Although I should stop. My bum is getting sooo ginormous!” although this wasn’t true. All this ‘fat’ she somehow had had gone straight to her chest. She must’ve seen me staring.