𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙎𝙥𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙤𝙛 𝙈𝙮 𝙀𝙮𝙚 | 𝙋𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙋𝙖𝙧𝙠𝙚𝙧

𝙊 𝙉 𝙀

Amelia Lancaster

Sophomore year starts today. The summer is officially over, and I have to play the part of the classic new-girl trope storyline.  I recently moved to New York from Chicago because they had to transfer my mother to another hospital, better doctors I've heard, no shade to Chicago though. She was diagnosed with leukemia about four years ago; she's stage four now. The past couple of months have been hard, but I am slowly learning how to cope with the inevitable. Dark, yes, but valid, also yes. 

Walking through these new halls wasn't really weird, but I felt out of place. I don't have a clue where my locker is or homeroom, and to top it off I don't know anyone here. Whoop-dee-do! All I really want to do was to put my earbuds in, play The Smiths on repeat and just draw my little heart away. Then again, I also just want to get through the days with no trouble.

" Watch it, new girl!" A high-pitched, snarky voice says.

"Sorry, I didn't -"

"Just get out of my way,"

" Yeah, sure." I said as I made way for this beauty queen.

Judging by the posse following behind her, I guess I just got my first taste of Midtown High's popular girl. Strutting away with a flip of her blonde hair, the hall clears and there is practically a red carpet laid out for her to walk on.

I finally find my locker, throw my stuff in, and go to class. I chose a seat towards the back, just so I have a chance of going unnoticed. With my trusty earbuds in, sketchbook back in my hands along with my pencil, I can draw. Drawing puts me at ease, so I can finally relax for a bit. As I let the pencil move across the paper, shading and adding details to his suit, I notice a shadow over my shoulder. I turn around and see a boy who looked about my age, with brown floppy hair and dark chocolate eyes. He went a little pink when my eyes met his.

"Sorry," he says," You dropped this." he hands me one of my charcoal pencils.

"Thanks, I probably would have never noticed."

"No problem. Did you draw that?" He asks, looking worried.

"Yeah, I like drawing figures and he is just so cool to watch, don't ya think?" I was referring to the swinging Spider-Man in my sketchbook.

"Yeah, I don't see him much though. But that is really good," he compliments. I've always been told I'm approachable, so I don't understand why he looks nervous to be speaking to me.

"Thank you," I blush, " I'm Amelia by the way,"

"Peter," He said.

"Nice to meet you, Peter."

"You too, Amelia."

As he walked away the bell rang, signaling that this 7:20 class is going to begin. To avoid getting in trouble the first day, I unhappily place my sketchbook inside my desk and take my earbuds out. Our teacher walks in and introduces herself as Mrs. Winterhalter and tells us what we would be working on the first semester; what book we were going to read, projects, tests, you know, AP English.

When the bell sounds ninety minutes later, I am relieved because I can go to math. I am pretty good at it and just like solving problems. Like English, I sit in the back, this time noticing that Peter was in class with me. The class went on and we did some icebreakers to introduce ourselves to our classmates, then we practiced some equations we learned as freshmen.

~~~

Eventually, I made it to lunch, knowing I had art next which I was stoked about. Although lunch is a "subject" I look forward to, I realize I have no one to sit with, which defeats the entire concept of this "class" being as fun as it is.