How to Live | Slow Updates

chapter three

My new school is pretty close to our house, the drive is no longer than three minutes, and since I've figured out the directions, I know that I won't be using the car. I don't really like this car anyways. It's not a bad car or anything, but the last time I drove it, René was in it. I can almost feel her sitting in the seat next to me, playfully glaring at something I said, acting like nothing was wrong. It makes me feel sickly, and the apple I ate starts to feel like a three-course meal in my stomach.

The entrance to the school looks a bit different from my old school. This one looks much older, with walls made of bricks. My old one was newer; the school was only a year old when I started my freshman year there. The whole thing was covered in bright colors, and it was all fresh and clean. Here, the small bits of paint left on the wall are all peeling, and I can see the football field from the parking lot.

I take a deep breath and step out of the car, and start walking inside, keeping my head down, and just determined to find the office without any complications or bumping into anyone. As I walk inside there are a few people who catch my eye. They're being loud, they're being brash, and the stench of attention-whore just rolls off of them. I can't help but wonder that if circumstances were different, is this what other people used to look at me like? The girl that partied and came to school in flashy outfits and spoke loudly in the hallways and started drama.

I slowly make my way to one of those flashy people, hoping that whoever I used to be will make an appearance now. She used to be great at talking to people, especially the blonde cheerleader types. Though, the girl I'm approaching doesn't look like a blonde cheerleader; she has pitch black hair, and dark blue eyes, and fair skin with light freckles. She's pretty tall too—around 5'9" or 5'10", and when she turns around as I tap her shoulder, there's a piercing in her eyebrow too.

"Hey, I just was wondering if you knew where the office was? Sorry, I don't mean to be a bother or anything, I just need to know where it is, and I'll be gone," I ramble nervously, not looking the girl in the eye. There's two guys standing next to her, and the three of them intimidate me as I find myself the focus of their stares.

"You're headed in the wrong direction. Walk back to the entrance, take a right at the hallway, and then another right." It's one of the boys who answers. I look up at him, and he has dark skin—I'm pretty sure he's black—and he has deep, dark brown eyes. His shoulders are broad, and I can make out muscular arms from his t-shirt, and I automatically assume that he plays football or some other sport. His posture and figure is similar to the way the football players were back at my old school.

"Okay, thank you!" I say, and turn around, a slight blush making its way onto my cheeks. Not because of the boy, but because I was just walking in a random direction—hoping it's right. I hear the boy say "no problem!" from behind me, and for a second I debate whether to acknowledge what he just said, but I decide not to push my luck. I don't want to say the wrong things, and then the wrong things happen.

I make my way to the office, and approach the desk, where a woman in her mid-thirties is sitting. Her face is plump, but it also looks sweet. Her neck is decorated with plenty of necklaces, and so her arms. Her brown hair frames her face in ringlets, and her eyelashes are so long that I don't ever think she's had to use mascara in her life. She's softly humming a song under her breath, but I can't make out what. She looks so peaceful sitting there and filing papers that I feel bad disturbing what she's doing.

"Excuse me?" I ask, and the woman looks up.

"How can I help you sweetie?"

"I'm new here, and I just need my schedule for my classes, and maybe a map of the school. I don't know if you have those though, so it's okay. I can find my way around," I say, giving her a smile that I hope looks real.