Ninjago High:The Forgotten Elements

1~~~

Hannah's POV:

"Oh gosh-I am dead meat! New school-I hate starting a new school. Why did I accept that scholarship?! Right. If I want to be an astronaut, I need to get into good schooling. College is right around the corner. Just calm down. Last year of school-then it's college. Just stick to the shadows, avoid eye contact, and be the ninja..." Taking a deep breath, I hoisted my backpack up higher on my shoulder, and took a step. It was like I was transported into a whole new dimension! Everywhere I looked, teenagers were talking or on their cell phones. Teachers roamed around, oblivious to the world and only focusing on getting to one of the hundreds of rooms. It was all so different from my other schools. This was a huge public school, and-as usual-I felt like I was getting stares from every student. I mean, sure. I was short. Really short. But that's didn't mean I was a dumbie. I could defend myself, and just because I have blond hair, doesn't make me dumb. AT ALL. I don't know who started that but they obviously had some issues. Yet, I still felt uncomfortable, and my insecurity didn't help. I pulled my hood over my head, thankful that the dress code wasn't strict. Never thought I'd be thankful for that. I stuffed my hands in my grey pockets as I trudged over to my locker. My hoodie was my regular grey hoodie, with strings that looked purple. I'm not sure if I ran or jogged to my locker. Probably a combination of both. All the other schools I've been to, the lockers have been small, but the lockers at this school were so big, I could fit into them. But, I could fit into about anything I was so small. I was 17, and I was only maybe 5 feet. Give or take an inch or two. That was pretty short compare to the average kid nowadays. 

Opening my locker, I put up some space wallpaper(because if you're going to customize your locker, you have to do it right...and to cover up the grafitit), and posters. The "I need my space" poster was my favorite. On the inside of my door was a long poster with the band, "Imagine Dragons" on it. Best band ever! I mean, yes. I listen to plenty of other types of music. But Imagine Dragons would always be my favorite. Their songs actually mean something. After I neatly arranged my folders and binders-even though I knew they would get messed up soon-I hung up some photos of my family. They were small, but just enough. I lived with my Aunt Lee, Uncle Ryan, middle school cousin Sierra, toddler cousin Jack, and my baby cousin Zach. I was adopted by my Aunt and Uncle, after my mother died when I was a baby. My father was never spoken of, even though I did find out he died shortly before I was born. Everyone said I looked like my mother, and had my father's attitude and wits, which made me feel happy, and closer to them. (Even if some of the traits weren't good.) I slid my money for lunch into my pockets, plugged my headphones into my rose-gold MP3 player, slid that into my pocket, and fixed my pink shirt under my hoody. Imagine Dragons played as I grabbed my bag, and went to Algebra-ugh. When I got there, my teacher marked me present, then pointed to a seat next to a blond haired boy-or did he have white hair? "Thank you.", I said, then walked to my seat. Plopping my bag on the ground, I listened as the familiar tune played in my headset. 

"Cause I'm a bad liar. 

Bad liar. 

Now you know. 

You're free to go."

Finally, the bell rang. The work was just a review, so the teacher allowed us to work in groups of 2 or 3 people. I didn't know anyone so I started my work. 

"Excuse me. Are you new here?" I looked up to see the white haired-or blond-boy looking at me. Carefully, I nodded. "Would you like to work with us?", he asked as he referred to himself and a girl with silver hair, green eyes, and purple markings on her face. Must be tattoos... She smiled and waved. I slowly waved back. 

"I mean, if it's okay. Then...sure." Moving my desk next to theirs, I held out my hand. "I'm-Hannah."

"My name is Pixal. And this is Zane.", said the girl. "Hello.", Zane greeted. Then we got to work. They were both amazingly good at Math, and gladly helped me understand some things. We were done in no time, and Zane took our papers to the teacher, while Pixal and I talked about what was being served for lunch. "Will you sit with us at lunch, Hannah?", asked Pixal when Zane returned.