But I Don't Believe It

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At a glance, there was nothing for me in New Jersey.

Except the rain.

The noise of rain drowned out the sounds of my dad's dresser drawers slamming and creaking and scratching and squeaking.

It was already evening when I was unpacking the first day. I kept my blinds up so I could see out to the street while I unpacked. Already on a shelf I had set out my books, and was now in the process of arranging my collection of assorted figurines. They weren't a series or anything, just little action figures or tiny porcelain statuettes I had acquired over my whole 16 years of living.

When I stood back up from opening a box, there was someone across the street. A boy in a grey hoodie, standing and watching me. I waved to him and waited in curiousity for his reaction. He waved to me and smiled beforei running off. Well, that was weird as hell. Wonder what his deal was.

I started at my new school that Monday, and I was not going without making an impression. I put on the outfit that gave me the most confidence: black skirt, white tank top, open black button up, and my favorite denim jacket. Why did I need to make such an impression, you ask? I wasn't about to be the new kid who got picked on and fell into the background.

At my previous school, I was what you might call a delinquent. A trouble-maker, a bad girl, a hoodlum; whatever you want to call it, I was the school's head punk. My gang and I were the one group that weren't messed with or openly ridiculed by students. There was no way I was giving that kind of respect up. If I couldn't find a new gang to join, at least I would get people to stay out of my way.

In I strutted on that first day of school as the new kid. Being mid-November, the autumn wind gave my hair a tossing, giving me an edgy, disheveled look. Not exactly what I was going for, but it still worked.

There were eyes all over me as I walked down the hall. I kept mine straight ahead of me, with a half scowl on my face. I made extra effort to wink at a group of boys in baseball uniforms, before turning and slinking up the stairs. One of them whistled loudly at me and yelled something I don't remember. You know, the usual self-absorbed catcall stuff.

Because I started late in the year, I didn't have to share a locker; I just got one of the leftover ones. I eavesdropped on the people around me to get a grasp on the social environment. A loud series of shouting and whooping caught my attention. The sound was coming from a group of rough-looking boys walking down the hall.

Kids instinctively planted themselves to the wall as the group passed by, making their attempts at camouflage. That's my competition? Good to know. I made eye contact with one of the boys; a boy with stringy brown hair and glasses. I smirked and winked at him, to which he looked away immediately, eyes wide with a little smile tugging at his lips. After they passed, he looked over his shoulder at me.

First and second hour weren't too rough, but third hour was quite an episode. I introduced myself to the teacher as a new student, and was there a desk for me to use? He directed me to an empty desk group in the back corner. "The other students will be here soon." He assured me.

So I sat tight for a minute or two until the classroom filled with laughter of other students. To my interest, multiple boys from the gang in the hall walked in the door. They seemed to take notice of me, and walked to me, maintaining a peculiar level of eye contact. "Hey." I nodded to them, crossing my legs.

"Hey yourself." Their apparent leader replied. He sat down next to me and leaned back, trying to get a better look over of this new student. "You got a name Beautiful?" He asked, smiling while he looked me up and down.

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