The Bad and Me

Rich Kids

I started to brush my teeth, making sure I didn’t let the weird tasting water run the whole time, because I believed it was important to conserve water.  The minty fresh toothpaste dribbled down my face making me look like I had a Santa beard.  I spit into the sink and rinsed out my mouth, sloshing the water around to make sure I got all the gunk out of my teeth.  I used this special face wash for my usually oily skin so it didn’t blind people when I came into the light.  

            I brushed my hair, soothing the bumps of a deep night’s sleep, and tried curling it as orderly as I could to the tips of my hairs.  I took my mascara from the top drawer in my bathroom cabinet and watched every stroke with a careful eye.  

             “This is as good as it’s gonna get,”  I reassured myself as I slipped on these really comfortable jeans and my burnt out T-shirt.  I packed up my aqua tinted backpack with the essential school items any teenagers would need for high school, to make it look that I at least tried to be a normal teen.  I didn’t forget to place my memory journal in the secret pouched I had already neatly stitched in the front compartment.  I grabbed a green apple for breakfast and rushed out the door, into the car.  

Once I arrived on campus, I saw for the first time what a school in a “bad area” was like.  My mom hadn’t told me she was sending me to a fancy shmancy school for rich kids! I saw teenagers arriving in limos and Bentleys and really fancy German vehicles.  

My parents had to probably manage a lot of mind manipulation to get me into this school.  The outside east entrance of the school was built in the style of an old fashioned castle from the renaissance period.  The September leaves, which had fallen from the loose arms of the many trees, pancaked the breakfast-plate ground.  The building was the color of a coffee creamer my mom used and was about as tall as a hundred-story skyscraper, towering above everything around it.  Something my mom hadn’t alerted me of was the uniform students were required to wear.  Everyone started to stare at me as I stepped out of my mom’s 2005 Toyota 4Runner in my usual public school attire.  The kids here looked stuck up and snotty in their expensive accessories and bags, but I would have to deal with that through the next few months or so, or else I’d fail my duties.  It was quite obvious how my year was going to play out at this school, if my time here even lasted a year.  

            “Change lives today Lisa!” my mom shouted.  

            “I’ll try my hardest.  Not,”  I retorted with displeasure.

            I rushed straight to the main building in the north wing of the building, beady eyes judging me quietly as I proceeded toward help.  Once I reached the office atop a long flight of marble stairs that I almost slipped and broke my neck on, I opened the double glass doors and peered around the room, gawking at the extremely high ceiling as I waltzed through the rushing staff and students.  When I reached the front desk, the person attending it had already judged me and looked like she was done with life herself.  I started to read her thoughts just in case she was in a bad situation.

            First day of school, great, now I have to deal with more of these snotty brats for another year.  I wish my pay were higher so I could actually afford a smile, she thought with great enthusiasm (not really).  Well at least we felt the same way about the students enrolled here– wait, I was retrieving more thought.  What does this one want now? she thought raising an unplucked, scraggly eyebrow.  I was hoping she would be happy to know that I wasn’t a stuck up rich kid once I introduced myself.  

            “Excuse me, ma’am, sorry to bother you on such a busy morning,”  I politely apologized, “but do you have any spare uniforms lying around anywhere by any chance?” I’m guessing it took her a long time to answer because of her obvious lack of sleep or care for anyone else but herself.  She took her sweet time looking through the drawers on each side of her swivel chair.  She pulled out a slightly worn out uniform that had a navy blue skirt and maroon T-shirt with its school crest still intact.  

        I reached for the clothes when the lady suddenly yanked it out of reach.

            “Ah-ah-ah,”  she snickered, “You still have to pay for these, miss, and they aren’t cheap, either.” Her eyes scanned me from head to toe and back again, observing my outfit of choice, then maliciously said, “And by the looks of it you don’t look like you could afford a uniform.”

            That’s it, I thought, this lady is just like the students at this school, and I don’t intend on wasting my time with her misery.  I took a long hard stare into her eyes focusing on her thoughts and connecting them to the decision making part of her brain, rewiring her choice of words.  She gave me an odd glance then changed her expression from a frown to a slight grin.

            “But of course, you being a new student and all and needing help with finances, I guess I could make an exception,”  she sighed.  She handed me the uniform items and put in a few extra pairs of the school’s socks, even though those weren’t required.

            “Thank you so much!” I replied, taking pleasure from my first accomplishment at this school, even if it wasn’t technically for the better.

            I saw a sign directed toward the ladies’ restroom and followed it down a long hallway until I reached their very elegant powder room.  I hopped into one of the lavender smelling stalls and quickly changed into the uniform.  While I was still in the stall, I savored every spare second I had to check my schedule for classes.  I assumed today must be an “A” day (as different classes had to come on a certain day, A or B, to be able to fit all the classes into the schedule) and saw my first class was Biology I Honors in room 33-E, with Mrs. Kiwol.  I scanned the map on the back of my schedule for the location of the classroom and saw it was on the fourth top most floor of the E building.  Great, I thought annoyed, it’s on the other side of school.  But I knew what to do.  I had my own style of traveling.