You, Me and the Sea

Chapter 1

It had been a while since I'd walked in through the entrance at the start of the school year, but I thought the beginning of Year 12 was as good an occasion as any. Ignoring the stares on me that I was sure I wasn't imagining; I fixed my tie and made my way towards my locker room.

I was trying to look both unbothered and steely, shifting my bag onto my other shoulder. Everyone kept looking at me – although maybe I was just being paranoid. They probably all wanted to see the girl who'd fallen from grace, I thought to myself.

I'd almost made it to the end of the hallway when a voice called out "Hey, Alex! Alex!"

I stopped, hoping it wasn't who I thought it was. But that was wishful thinking. "Miller!" I heard the voice again and turned on my heel, glaring at the burly blonde guy who was walking up to me with his three cronies and signature smirk. Just what I needed. "What, Ryan?"

He held up his hands. "I was just about to let you know we'd have some competition on the waves this year, but apparently I'll save my time."

"Fine by me."

I turned around the corner. I didn't care about what Ryan had to say – who did? If there really was real competition this year, I'd find out soon enough. And I'd prefer not to hear it from a misogynistic idiot, anyway.

He quickly fell into step beside me. Of course. It was always hard to escape.

"Miller, surely you want to hear it?" Ryan asked, his beady brown eyes staring tauntingly into mine.

I shrugged. "Not from you. You can barely add one plus one, I doubt you'll be able to judge who's the better surfer, even if you put Mick Fanning and yourself on the podium. You still think you're better than me, for God's sake!"

"But I am," he said, as if he totally believed it. The only thing he was was egotistical and sexist. It was hard to stop myself rolling my eyes and telling him the only place that that was true was in his dreams.

"Goodbye, Ryan."

The journey to my locker room was fast after that. There were less (possibly imagined) stares, mainly because these corridors were smaller, and harboured less crowds.

When I got into the long room, I spun my code into my locker – trying twice until I finally got it right – and piled my books into my tote bag. My eyes found the mirror I'd stuck up four years ago.

I hated looking at myself, the reason being it felt like I was looking into mum's eyes, not my own. I was about to look away when someone walked into the locker room and saw me staring at myself. With that, I slammed my locker shut and went to homeroom.

The only thing to do in this class was study, given that everyone else had friends and I didn't. I took out my biology textbook and started going over what we'd be learning this term.

"Why do you do that?"

I looked up after about five minutes. The nosey parker who's been annoying me since last year was looking at me suspiciously.

"Why not?"

"Because homeroom's a time for socializing."

I'd always thought she had learning difficulties.

"And do you see anyone wanting to socialize with me?"

"N-no," she stammered.