Teach Me How To Love

First Day

She smiled, so I smiled back. And that's how it all started.

Well, I wouldn't say that's when it started exactly...

That was just the start of something genuinely beautiful, but how it all really started, goes two years earlier than that.

High school, first day. Anxiety coursing through every freshman in the hall. Oh god. I bet they were all thinking. I mean, how could I blame them, I was thinking it too.

The first day of school is always hard and nerve racking, in my experience at least. Trying to make a good impression, keeping up with what the teachers say, it's all just so complicated. Especially because this was high school now. High school is not really the cheery place where you're friends with everyone and break into a musical number every five minutes. Just, no. It goes more like this:   Get up early, look tolerable, do your work, walk fast in the halls, deal with annoying drama, eat crappy school lunch, do more work, listen to your teachers, and then at the end of the day run like it's the end of the world to your bus so you're not late like the day before. Well, that about sums it up, high school is the place to get stressed out about everything, drama, grades, and keeping up.

I glanced at my class schedule and then up at the clock in the hall. Shit! I'm gonna be late to math class on the first day! Running through the halls, hoping not to be late, my stomach churned. I hadn't eaten breakfast that morning. I should've ate something... Ugh, Charlotte, you don't have time to think about this!

Charlotte Jackson, you're late on the first day of school. Congrats." the teacher snapped at me as I walked through the door to the classroom.

"I'm sorry sir, I just - " I started.

"It's fine, just take a seat, please." He cut me off, annoyance lingering in his voice.

I rushed over to take a seat, the only open desk was next to a girl who looked like she was the popular one. Oh great. I thought to myself as I rolled my eyes and threw my backpack under the desk between my feet, then taking out a piece of paper and pencil. This year is gonna be just great. I thought to myself sarcastically as a slight smirk appeared on my face.

"What're you smirking about?" The girl to the right of me asked with a sour look on her face. She was tall and darker skinned, with long braids in her hair. I noticed she was wearing a shirt that said 'QUEEN' on it in bold, shiny letters. Oh, so she's the popular, cocky type. Good to know.  I knew how to tell what kind of person someone was right away, it was written all over their face. Like those dumb jocks in the back of the room blowing spit balls at that poor girls head. 

I wanted to tell her off and suggest she mind her own business, but all I could mutter out was "I didn't realize, sorry." I wasn't the type for confrontations, although I was always more sarcastic in my head. As soon as I said this, and the words processed through my brain, I wanted to slap myself in the face. What the hell was that?

"Whatever, loser" she said, rolling her eyes and popping a piece of spearmint gum in her mouth, I could smell it. 

Now I was in a bad mood. Great.. I didn't want to talk to anyone else at all that day, and I didn't, I didn't know anyone.

*Later that day*

Ugh, homework? On the first day! This is B.S. Hours of homework on the first day of high school, I was exhausted. I couldn't procrastinate on this like I did back in middle school. This was different and I hated it. I hated the school, I hated the classes, I hated the people. I was all alone.

Why did we have to move...?

I became "the emo one" in no time and I hated that name. I hated that name with a vengeance. I didn't talk much and didn't have many friends, since the whole school kinda sucked. There wasn't really a reason for the name either. Some one referred to me as the emo one once, and it just stuck with me and everyone started calling me that. 

I didn't pay much attention to people in my classes, but when I saw someone attractive, I couldn't help but stare. But. I didn't only think the guys were attractive, I'd catch me staring at the girls, too. I didn't know why I was doing this or why I felt this way, but I brushed it off as nothing.

The thought that, maybe I'm gay, or bi? ran through my head for weeks. I thought it might've made sense, but I didn't know if I should go with it. The idea stayed in the back of my mind, making me question myself constantly.

Gay? Never. I couldn't possibly... Well, maybe?  I couldn't make up my mind, but I left the idea at that - Maybe.