A Mythichaotic 90s Tale

I. The New Girl

Three loud thuds from the wooden door woke my nightmare-less sleep.

I open my eyes, finding myself inside the room of the house in the 7th state I've moved to. My half-awake eyes got wider when she knocked louder this time.

"Soleil, you have less than an hour to get dressed for your first day at school. Get up there." That is Carla.

Carla's been with me in my house.

Yes, a Beverly Hills house rented from my own money.

As a minor, I can't actually live by myself so I tagged her along, whom I found on the streets, to live with me and it's been a week of a life on my own.

She does the dishes, cleans the house, does laundry, everything to be exact, in return, she gets to sleep in an actual house as long as she doesn't go inside my room.

I picked out my red tank top showing a bit of my belly and a pair of washed jeans together with my socks and favorite white shoes.

It's the 90s and clothes is everything.

At least, if I'm trying to be normal.

I tied my hair to a to a half-updo leaving out my fringes. I noticed the reflection of my arm on the mirror.

Three tattoos: above the right elbow, the symbol of my pack circling my arms; at the side of my right wrist, written is a Gaulish text which who knows what it means; and at the side of my left middle finger is the year I was born in roman numerals.

I wore my denim jacket as I head outside to cover what is to be covered.

The school's just a 10 minute walk away from the house I reside in. Practically, I rode a second-hand bike that I bought and head there.

Where do I get all the money?

Just like a normal kid, I had parents. They had bank accounts which I got an access to and the story's a history. And when I turn 18, I'll have more than that bank account.

Oh, and there are deals that a wolf can offer.

I've been to different high schools. Every year, I meet new faces and they meet mine. Always have been the new, mysterious, popular girl. I don't like that attention but it seems like I can't avoid it.

This year, I'm in the City of Angels. More people equals less clue of finding me. Los Angeles made that possible. Plus, there's a close beach and there's surfing. I'm excited to try that one out.

I parked my bike and took a full view of the high school. It was hard to process some papers on my own but it's nothing a little white lie can't solve.

Why should they deprive a kid wanting to learn, right?

I had to walk away from the parking lot. The smell of the smoke coming out of the kids' cigarettes were not at all good. And, I have a strong sense of smelling.

As I walk through the hallway, I can see it in my peripheral view that there are students eyeing me. Mostly bad looks from girls and nasty from guys. Typical high school.

"Principal's office?" I requested from the secretary on the desk.

She just waved her hand and that was rude. It was like shooing me like I'm some dog. And I am not one, excuse me.

I went inside the brown door only to hear the principal snore on his chair. His work must have been so hard, considering that it's early in the morning and he fell asleep-before class hours. Shame on work.

Out of respect, I knocked on his wood desk and he did wake up while saying, "What did you do now?" The reaction he got from me was more sarcastic than a laugh.

"Good morning to you too, sir. I'm the transferee. Collado." I reply.

He fixed his glasses before answering, "I apologize. I'll lead you to your class. You are Collado in 10th grade?" I nod in response.

There were no students in the hall when I got out. The bell must have rang before I arrived here.

He opened the door for me before he left and I was standing at the entrance of a class that had their mouths shut and eyes on me. I somehow doubt that it's because they were listening to that teacher's lesson.

"You must be our new student." He checked a folder and before he could mention my name, I already did, "Sol."

I walked towards an empty seat at the corner of the first row when he asked, "Where are you from?"

"New Orleans."

"City of the wild." The statement came from a guy at the back. A natural instinct made me shiver for a second.

I looked at him the time that the red-headed guy that's sitting in front of him added, "Parties," while winking once.

The simple line really distracted me. What if he knows who I am? What if he's also a w- Impossible. There is no chance at all that I would be in the same school with someone from my kind considering our population.

The bell rang and everybody stood at the same time.

Out of curiosity, I passed right beside him, who now has a cheerleader at his right, on my way to the exit. So, he's the type of guy who gets the girls? He smells....

Different.