FLATLINE

Chapter Two; To control or be controlled

Mansfield High was small.

As in 800 students in total-small. 

I had completely forgotten that I had spent my entire childhood in a small-town, and compared to Chicago this was the country. I half-expected people to constantly wear denim overalls and boots. What I actually met with, however, was none of the above. Most people living in this small-town happened to have great economy, or their parents did anyway. Therefore, when I got there on a Thursday, not only did I find snobby kids, but also snobby kids forming cliques.

Considering I had abandoned Chicago in the beginning of my senior year, I had stepped into a foreign territory where I had long since been forgotten. Whispers ran down the hall as I passed these so-called cliques that I nearly couldn't distinguish from each other. They all wore clothes that were overdressed for school, I mean, who the hell wears stilettos to school? I found myself being the odd one out in my simple attire of ripped denim jeans with my black leather jacket.

There were faces I recognized amongst the crowd. People I had gone to pre-school with, people who were in my homeroom class during elementary before I moved. Some faces were completely new, and others rung a bell but my mind couldn't put names on them. There was Christina – the blonde-haired girl I had once played hide-and-seek with and dressed up as a vampire with for the annual Halloween disco party that the school arranged. This girl I now found at the top of the food chain, her blonde waves reflected in the poor light in the hallway, her heels sounding louder than any conversation held these past few moments. I wish I could say her entrance went by unnoticed, but it would be a complete lie. Heads turned the moment the sound of clicking heels entered the school, and girls scrambled like a bunch of ants, as the boys winked at her. It was all like a scene from a sappy teenage movie, really.

Well, that was until she miraculously approached me amongst the myriad. I was standing in front of my newfound locker shoving my new set of books into the tiny space. My cap was safely placed on top of my head, but I somehow managed to look at her in my side-vision.

"As I live and breathe – Isn't it Jenny Hastings? Oh my, this calls for a complete scandal!" Her hands enclosed around my leather-bound shoulders. As if I hadn't gotten enough hugs these past few days.

"Hey Christina, long time no see." I mumbled into her shoulder, my hand clapping her back twice in means of a hug.

"No shit! You know, had you not come back I almost wouldn't have recognized you," She said in a-matter-of-factly kind of voice.

You probably wouldn't have spoken to me either, my mind sounded. Maybe that would be the preferred alternative.

"Same goes to you," I said, sending her a small smile. I couldn't find it in me to be impolite, so I waited for her to say something. Anything. It was unfair on her, I know. But I had to stick to my plan. This close was too close.

"Well, you totally have to sit with us at lunch today! We should catch up," her grin reached her ears, and if you focused too much on her face it would almost look real. However, a wholesome look at her face made it evident that she by no means planned on actually keeping this 'reunited with my childhood best friend' crap up.

Lucky for her that the feeling was, in fact, reciprocal.

She then walked away, swaying her hips and leaving a trail of lovestruck teenage-boys in her wake. I simply shook my head to myself at their pathetic stances, before pulling out my calculus books from a locker that was bursting enough to barely remain locked. These small lockers were going to be the end of me.

Walking down the hallway of Mansfield felt like a deer walking amongst a pack of wolves. I could already feel the hostility of my new fellow classmates, their gazes following my every step as if to search for any fault that could hand them the opportunity to pounce at me.