Alexander
My mom walked me inside to the vice principal's office. Apparently I had to be walked to my classroom by a teacher because I wasn't enrolled to HHS until last minute.
It was a really long walk to get to my homeroom, 317. I don't know how I'll do this every morning. I don't even want to come to this school ever again, and I just got here.
When the vice principal, Ms. Bence, walked me to my homeroom, there was an awkward silence in the room before I even got in.
I remembered some of the kids from 7th grade, but it didn't matter because they all hated me anyways.
My eyes caught Mackenzie. How could I forget her? I liked her for a long time when we were in middle school. And a few months ago, she sent me a long message that she said wasn't meant to be sent. I hope not, because it didn't seem like something she would just send out of nowhere.
I could tell she still liked me when I saw her. She made it pretty obvious.
I just don't have the same feelings I did for her in seventh grade.
"Ok, students," said my homeroom teacher, Mrs. Churchill, "We're going to do some icebreakers."
That can't be good.
"So each person will say their name, age, and favorite color. But you have to remember what every person before you said."
Well this was just fantastic. I was at the back, so I'd have to remember everyone. Why do I care about peoples' favorite color?
"I'll start," said Mrs. Churchill, "I'm Mrs. Churchill, I am... old, and my favorite color is pink."
Next went a new girl named Savannah who moved here from San Francisco, California, which is pretty far from Hadley, Massachusetts. "I'm Savannah, I'm fifteen, and my favorite color is blue." Savannah was so pretty. I couldn't help but stare at her. Who knows what might happen with Savannah and I this year? It might sound crazy now, because she doesn't even know my name.
After about seven or eight kids, Mackenzie went. "My name's Mackenzie, I'm fourteen, and my favorite color is lavender." Of course she wouldn't say a normal color like everyone else. She repeated everyone in front of her without a single mistake.
Before I knew it, it was my turn. I stood up and said, "I'm Alex, I'm fifteen, and my favorite color's black."
"Now say everyone else's." said Mrs. Churchill.
Briiiiing went the school bell. The intercom came on, "Students, please report to your period one class. Again, students please report to your period one class." That must have been Mr. Agosto, the principal.
Talk about saved by the bell! I was relieved beyond belief.
I had English as my first period class. I wonder how that'll turn out.
YOU ARE READING
Freshman
Teen Fiction"This is it. This is the day my life begins. This is my first day of high school. I would always lay awake wondering what it would be like. Would these four years really be the best four years of my life? That's what my middle school principal to...