Boy, Oh Boy.

1. New Girl

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"Hey girl, watcha doing?

Hey girl, where you going?

Who's that girl? (who's that girl?)

Who's that girl? (who's that girl?)

It's Jess."

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  School starts in fifteen minutes and I can’t find my shoes.

“Don’t you dare forget your lunch!” my father exclaimed.

I grunt and settle on some old pair of Converse that only makes my outfit more casual than it is. I throw on a pastel blue cardigan and sling my backpack on one of my shoulders as I reach for my lunch. “Thanks, Dad!” I yell.

I throw everything into the passenger seat and pray that I won’t get late on my first day. I hope that none of the teachers will force me into an awkward introductory speech in front of guys.

Despite my constant referencing to anyone human being as a “bro”, “guy’, “dude”, or “broski” regardless of the person’s gender, this time I was using it correctly. I will be in a room full of guys. Maybe there will be a girl or two to support me? I bet the girls there are hella rad.

I park like a pro and run toward the doors with my belongings slipping from my hands. I think my class is right down this or wait no, this hallway...?

        Crash.

“Dude, what is the rush?” a voice above me boomed.

I duck my head, say sorry once, and gather my things so that I can run the other direction, but the guy already detects me.

“You are new, aren’t you?” he says. I am positive that it’s a guy that I bumped into.

I look up and see tan brown haired guy with a smug face. “I’m pretty sure I know all the girls and I don’t know you.” He paused and inspected me further, noticing my short breath. “Do you need a tour guide. People tell me I’m the best.”

“Yeah I’m new,” I smile. This guy is totally not aware of the time. “But I don’t need your help,”  I say with pride.

I sprint off to my first class and hear “Hey! What’s your name?” from the cocky guy, but I ignore and proceed to Literature.

I immediately spot the teacher and ask him if there was an open seat. There was one seat left, and guess where it was. I beg you.

The seat was in the front. Right in the middle. No one could guard me, I had the teacher’s full view.

The bell rings and I prepare my desk. The middle aged man in front of me projects his voice excitedly.

“Welcome back from Winter Break, class,” the teacher says. “Let’s get down to business. We are few months away from the AP exam, so let’s analyze some prose as a warm up, okay?”

I sit there in the next three minutes with confidence with my work, when suddenly someone in the back notices something different in the room.

“Who’s the new girl, Mr. H?” a kid says distantly.

“Oh Mr. James, are you more interested in the new addition of estrogen than a prose from Hamlet?”

This teacher did not just refer me as estrogen.