The majority of my day passes by without much excitement. I struggled to open my locker, introduced myself to my teachers, was given a very unofficial tour by some preppy girl with a ponytail that might be giving her scalp damage, and finally was able to breathe as I settled back into a normal teenager routine much like the one I had back home.
People were nice enough, introducing themselves to me if I sat near them, giving me advice for some of my classes, and generally just starting surface level conversations.
"Have you taken a walk around the school?"
"Have you tried the bagel shop on Main Street yet?"
"Do you think you'll join any clubs or sports?"
"Do you wish you were still in California?" That last question caught my attention. I'm sitting in my last class of the day: AP Calculus. I left the cafeteria early because all the questions being thrown at me were swamping my head, generating a small headache. Getting a head start to the classroom meant avoiding the questioning faces of my fellow classmates in the hallway. Like I said, they were all nice, but I have to take the whole talking to people thing slowly after living in solitary for 3 months.
When I walked into AP Calc, the classroom was empty, giving me a few minutes to relax. I guess I was too relaxed because I didn't notice the other girl walk in and take a seat right next to me.
"So?" she asks, twirling one of her platinum blonde braids around her finger. "Do you wish you were still in California?"
I look at her, feeling a slight frown form on my face. No one has asked me about home since I have moved here. Aunt Clara and Uncle Luke know how sensitive the topic is and avoid it out of concern. Even the other students I have talked to today haven't asked me about California. I'm unsure if it is because they don't want to talk about my then and just focus on where I am now, or if they genuinely just do not care. Either way, this girl is direct compared to everyone else.
"Um, that's a difficult question to answer," I say truthfully. If someone had asked me that when I first got here, the answer would have been a definite yes. Now, after I have had time to let everything that happened to me sink in, I'm not so sure anymore if that would still be my answer.
But I can't exactly tell a complete stranger my entire backstory without facing some serious consequences.
"California will always be my home, but I moved here for a reason. I will say I do miss the warmer weather," I say, looking her in her made up stormy blue eyes, making it clear I'm not going to give her any more that that.
"Understandable," she replies, a slight smirk on her face. "I'm guessing that reason wasn't to be bombarded with a million questions all in one day though, right?" The corner of my lips turn up a little in response. "Or have Miss Perfect Class President give you the world's most boring tour of the school?"
"Is that who that girl was? With the really high ponytail?" I ask.
"And the stick up her ass? Yeah, that's our class president, Katy," she responds laughing with me. "I saw her drag you out of our English Lit class and through the hallways rambling on about the school's 'surprisingly dramatic history'" she says using air quotes.
"Oh yeah, nothing is more dramatic than a cafeteria fight started by the almost, but not quite nearly, 37th senator," I continue laughing. "I'm Leila, by the way," I extend my hand to hers, shaking it.
"I know, it's not everyday you get a new student starting as a senior in a small town like ours," she says. "I'm Nicole, it's nice to finally meet you. I actually have been in a couple of your classes today, but you seemed busy trying to please the rest of the student population and their inquisitive behavior."
"Well, even though it took you an entire day to claw your way to me, I'm glad I finally met someone I don't have to force myself to talk to," I say, shocked at my own candor. This morning, I truly believed I would remain a nameless student just trying to survive her senior year without so much as being glanced at twice. I'm surprisingly glad that I won't meet such a boring fate now that I have met Nicole and plan to keep her around. My original intention to stick to myself may have further deepened the state I was trying so hard to conceal, so I am grateful to have someone who reminds me of my friends back home. Some more normalcy to add to the mix.
Just as Nicole was about to continue our conversation, the class begins the fill up with other students, some saying hello to me in passing on their way to an empty desk. AP Calculus proceeds as the rest of my classes did previously, all talk about the syllabus and the plans to prepare us for the AP Exam at the end of the year. We completed an ungraded assessment to check where we all were in terms of knowledge. Our teacher, Mrs. Bloom, said she will adjust the schedule as needed based on the class's progress. So far, most of my teachers have had the same attitude towards their curriculum, making me feel better about taking on all AP and honors this year.
The final bell rings, students flying out of the classroom to get to their lockers and beat the traffic of people to the busses and cars in the back lot. Unfortunately, I am one of the few seniors that will be taking the bus for the year. I was unable to bring my car across the country due to an accident that totaled her just a week before my move date. I shudder just thinking about the crash despite not even being in the vehicle when it happened.
"Leila!" I hear my name across the loud, crowded senior hallway. I look to my right, closing my locker at the same time, trying to locate the voice. As I scan the line of lockers, I lock eyes with a pair of emerald green.
YOU ARE READING
Being Neighborly
ChickLitWhat's worse than beginning your senior year in a new town? The reason for having to start over. After being relocated from her hometown of 17 years, Leila Garner must juggle the stress of a new school, new friends, new living arrangements, and her...