Troublemakers

1

Yay, first day of school..

Ha. Funny.

Ever since I step my feet in the school area, sure, other students have been murmuring while giving me the looks like I'm some sort of an alien, not that I grow another pair of head or such.

Yes, it's in the middle of October and I just move here because of my dad apparently. He said that we might actually settle down here now, much to my appease. Packing and unloading things are not my forte.

The least that I'm grateful for, is the fact that they wear uniform here. Girl wear a short sleeve white shirt with double navy stripes at the end of the sleeves for tops and a knee-length navy skirt for the bottom, whilst boy wear a plain short sleeve white shirt with navy tie and an ankle-length navy pants. So, I am not that much different than any of those aliens around me right now. Due to the neat ponytail that I'm in, can't even hide with my hair from any of the whispers and looks.

I am currently in a lost sheep mode, trying to find my locker. Not a single wolf bother to help me, seriously. Not that I actually want any of it anyways.

As I read the names on the lockers, I realize they are sorted by alphabetical order, surnames. I am too smartass for my own good. Though I still find it odd that they arrange it that way. Finally, I detect 'S' and 'T' to-the-left sign when I am at the final stair of the second-to-third main stair of the school.

I obviously turn left and stroll through the aisle, finding my name. After a minute of so, I successfully find my locker, enter the code numbers, put my books and adjust some personal necessities inside, trying my best not to be bothered by the countless amount of stares.

This school is pretty small and cute, it is a confine five-story building with red brick walls and huge metal gate in front securing the area. It's a private school, but not exactly for the rich either, you know. My homeroom is supposed to be on the second floor, as far as I know. Fair enough.

The bell rings while I'm having my second round of being a lost sheep for my first class, English. I do love English, but I never really think that it's necessary to learn it when you're already in high school, except if it is an international school, maybe. Although I'm not purely an American descendant myself, I speak the language everyday anyway.

I hold my book tighter as I see the sign and enter the class last since other students have been rushing past by me. A man with distinct facial features, green eyes, thick eyebrow, in his thick rimmed glass. Probably in his late twenties, wearing the same long sleeve white shirt that every teacher wears, looking like a model in his little podium, ready for his speech in front of the class until he sees me.

"Oh, I assume you're the new face. Now, come in," with his cute British accent and he smiles at me.

Nah guys, now you see. I'll shamelessly take back my words. I declare English is mandatory.

I just nod and smile awkwardly, taking my position beside him. As much as I love the teacher's friendly gesture of wrapping an arm on my shoulder, I might as well die for two specific reason. One, because he's too cute. Two, most of the girls, of course have to send me the death glares right after their dreamy expression, an action they used to express indirectly to me - as you know already, where the direct hit belongs. The boys, some send me curious glances, some busy with their own business.

Alright, I know I'm not that beautiful or so. I'm ordinary, cut it out already please. I expect something less.

He ask me to introduce myself, and I obviously reply with a voicemail-like "Hi, I'm Elenora Taylor. Call me Nora," and again with the awful smile.