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iii - mesa vale

g w e n:

I usually don't mind change. I mean it was my idea to finish up my last year of high school as an exchange student in Australia after all. If I weren't so open to change, I would not only be back home in the U.S. but I wouldn't have half of the amazing experiences in my collection. Zip lining, bungie jumping, or scuba diving wouldn't be possible if I didn't keep my mind open to trying new things. Despite it all, I was still very much nervous the morning I stepped out of Luke's car and followed him up the pathway my new school.

Mesa Vale High was one of the many schools in Sydney, Australia. The institution was broken up into three separate buildings and the main structure stood at the center with three different flags in front of it. The flag of Australia, the flag of Sydney, and the flag of Mesa Vale. It was an enormous, 3-story building made of red brick and white window panes. Students brimmed every corner, and with everyone wearing a school uniform, it was easy to get lost in the crowd-- except for Luke, who was tall as a tree and towered over the majority of students.

"This way Gwen," Luke stopped walking, turning back to look at me through the crowd of people. Several students often stopped to say hi to Luke, and asked about his summer. In the short period of time at Mesa Vale, I could already tell that Luke was somewhat of a popular kid.

I caught up to him, "sorry. Easily distracted. This place is huge."

"It is when you first get here," Luke started, placing his hand on my back and pushing me forward, "but after about a week you'll know this place like the back of your hand."

"Easy for you to say... it looks like you've got this whole place wrapped around your finger," I observed. "You some kind of big shot?"

"Please, I am no big shot," Luke denied with a laugh.

"Hey Mister Hot Shot Hemmings," a blonde walked passed, giving him a wink. I looked at him with an expression that clearly stated my disbelief in Luke not being a big shot.

"Hot Shot Hemmings?"

"Ugh, bad timing. I'm not a big shot, hot shot, shot of rum... whatever,"

"Mmhmm, alright. Whatever, Hot Shot Hemmings," I teased.

I looked up at him with a smirk. It was so weird to see him in articles of clothing that weren't a pair of skinny jeans or singlets. But the black ring that adorned his lip was his signature, and made him look like Luke despite the navy blue blazer, red tie, and khaki pants.

As I continued to follow Luke up the grand, concrete steps, I caught glimpse of a beautiful willow tree. Its branches were full of bright green leaves, and they cascaded to form a natural umbrella. Beneath that tree was a white stone bench. It looked like a peaceful place to relax and other students did too, because sitting on that bench were a duo of boys. I couldn't make out their faces, but I could make out the head of one.

Lilac hair.

One of the boys had a wild mane of Lilac-colored hair. It was different, and even though I was originally from California-- a state that knew all about crazy fashion choices-- I was still very much surprised. Nonetheless, it was a great color and the boy oddly pulled it off. Next to the boy with the lilac hair, was another boy with dark hair peaking from his beanie. His blazer was hanging off of the bench next to him, and his white button up shirt was folded up to his elbows, revealing an arm full of tattoos.

I was raised to never judge a book by it's cover; to always give each person a fair chance to show their true colors. A sleeve of tattoos could mean nothing more than an arm brimming with stories.