At Aunt Amy's

Chapter 5

The first day of school rolled around before anyone knew it. And luckily, we all seemed excited about it. I woke up to my phone alarm going off and the September sun in my eyes. I threw on my tank top (with a coat over it just in case they were 'those kinds of people') and grabbed my pre-packed backpack from the corner of the closet. When I swung open my door, Hazel and Brenda were already standing out there, waiting for me.

"C'mon Avery!" Hazel exclaimed in a cheerful tone. "The bus'll be here soon!"

Chuckling at Hazel acting cute, I followed her lead out the front door.

"Bye Aunt Amy!" I called.

"Bye!" Brenda chimed in.

"Bye!" Hazel finished.

"Wait, did you guys eat-" Aunt Amy said, but I was out the door before I could hear the rest. Hazel pranced down to the corner to join her little posse, and I walked slowly so that I could catch Jenna leaving her house. And Brenda waited a while, but eventually a short girl with thick, curly light blonde hair that looked like it hadn't been brushed in a while. She had what kids in my grade called a five-head. But what caught my attention most was that she wore denim overalls over a yellow, white, and orange striped shirt. In conclusion, she looked younger than me.

But the two of them still high-fived with both hands when they saw each other (the little one had to jump up). Brenda squealed, "Amanda! Did you finish The Fault in Our Stars?"

"Yeah! It was so romantic! But so tragic!" Amanda responded, her voice a lot deeper than I expected.

"Well, if that isn't the straightest thing I'd heard all day," I mumbled to Jenna. She broke out into silent giggles. When the bus rolled around, the first thing I noticed was how small it was. One of the short buses that only had four rows and seat belts that actually functioned. Ones that didn't look like children used them. One of the short buses that were meant for two types of kids: special-ed kids and kids who go to private schools. That was when I realized what I was in for.

The bus came just about twenty minutes before class actually started. Meaning that Jenna and I stood by the doorway, tired as all hell, waiting for the time to past. Finally having some time to think, I realized damn, I was exhausted. My eyelids drooping, I turned to Jenna to see that she was staring intently at some groups of people. When I asked her why, she said, "I listen in on everyone else. Just in case it's anythin' interestin'."

Trying this technique, I listened in on two girls with completely purple and pink hair (where the hell are their parents) and heard two deep voices say, "What're you having for dinner tonight?" and "I'M having chicken."

"Nothin' yet," I yawned.

"You're listening to the weeaboos. Of course, it's nothin' useful," Jenna told me. I don't even want to know what that means, I thought. Just then, Jenna's gaze became fixated on the door. Her eyebrows lowered into a glare. She leaned her head and shoulders against the wall as her eyes followed someone into the building.

"What?" I blurted out.

"It's her," Jenna growled.

"Oh God," I gulped.

"Charlie." I looked where she was looking to see a girl with a loose beige tank top and jeans and had hair that shone brighter than the frickin' sun. She walked into the hall and stood with her back straight, but leaned one foot so that her hip stuck out. She had her arms at her side with her palms facing outwards but fingers curled in. Her lips pursed slightly as her eyes scanned the room. She looked like the type of person who blinks profusely and puts her hand on her chest when she's offended (which seemed to happen often). She kept on glancing around impatiently as if someone was waiting for her. And when she made eye contact, she pushed out the fakest smile.

I already despised her.

Jenna and I had first block together (though the school was so small that everyone had every class together). We sat in the very front and close to the door because apparently, the seats in the back were too far away. I leaned my elbows on the table and my face in my palms. The other girls filed in, down of them really sticking out to me. Except for a short-haired girl who sat right next to the devil herself. God, I pitied her.

Our teacher turned and smiled at us like her husband just left her she's trying to put on a happy face even though she wants to break down and cry. After giving a tone-deaf introduction that made no one actually absorbed, she handed out a paper for your "parent or guardian" to sign. A paper that had a whole bunch of paragraphs and words that no one would read. Afterward, she walked all around the bio lab showing all the emergency safety equipment we wouldn't be using because last time I checked we don't set things on fire while studying life.

Halfway through this ordeal, that girl Charlie stood up, her chair squeaking beneath her thighs. She strolled up to the very front of the class and took the same stance as before. As she passed by my desk, I realized how incredibly short she was. Definitely no taller than five feet. She snapped her jaw and asked the teacher (very loudly, I might add), "Um, I can go to the bathroom?"

When the teacher simply nodded at her, Charlie repeated, "Can I go to the bathroom?"

"Yes, yes sweety," the teacher grunted, her voice cracking. Her hair flipping without effort, she turned and walked away.

"See what I mean?" Jenna muttered to me.

"Sadly," I whispered back.

Hazel's Interlude:

I don't mean to intrude Avery's chapter (actually, I do. I just don't want to come off as rude), but I had to tell you about something that happened in my class today that really cemented my spot in this mini-society.

You see, I had resorted to an old-fashioned gimmick that was often used by our parents. I took a post-it note out as our red-headed math teacher started to ramble. She seemed to be close to the end of her rope already. She spits out some rapid-fire questions to see how much we remembered. Of course, no one could remember a thing, but she didn't care. One student said the answer to 8 times 8 was fried chicken, and the teacher responded, "Sure."

After meticulously crafting the perfect thing to write, I scribbled it on the bright yellow post-it note and nudged the girl next to me with my elbow. She passed it all the way down to Sadie, who opened it up and started to giggle. Just as planned, it got the attention of the teacher.

Swiftly, she snatched up the note and glared at both Sadie and me. Sadie looked absolutely terrified, but I knew for a fact that the glare wouldn't last. For the redhead unfolded the sticky-note and began to read. Almost immediately, her scowling stopped. Slowly, the crinkles on her face began to soften. Her eyes drooped a little. The whole class was on edge as everyone waited for a response. Finally, the teacher's glare turned right into a smile.

"'Our teacher seems nice and has good style. I can't wait to learn math here!'" the teacher read, almost on the brink of tears. It was like it was the first compliment she'd heard in a year. "Guess who doesn't have homework for the month?"

As the class gasped, I silently celebrated my victory. The teacher even added, "And you too, Sadie, since you seem to agree. Screw it, all of your little friends! All of you!"

I felt a bunch of loving gazes turn to me as I crossed my legs, sat up straight, and smiled with pride. Within a day, I had become the Empress.