Still Here

Chapter 1

"Andrea.."

"Mmmph.." I groan and roll over and bury my face in my pillow. I scrunch the ends of the pillow case to make it look like I'm still sleeping.

"Come on Andrea, I know your awake." I recognize my Mom's voice.

Maybe suffocating myself will be better than getting up.

"Andrea Simonns. If you aren't sitting up by the time I count to 5-"

"Fine! I'm awake!" I exclaim and sit up. You can probably tell by now that I am totally a morning person.

"Thank God. Don't go back to sleep." she says and stalks out of my room.

I actually was seriously considering suffocation there for a minute. I think it beats getting up and dealing with people by a lot. But I can't roll back over, Moms standing in the doorway to make sure I don't do that. Stalker much?

I squint to look at the digital clock on my desk. 7:47.

Oh shit.

Scrambling out of bed, I attempt to jump out, but BOOM. Somehow my ankle gets snagged into one of the blankets and I fall down. Crash.

I look up from my landing position on the ground and see Mom from her bedroom across the hall stifling her laughter. She's covering her mouth with both hands, trying to not let the choked laughter escape. But she's doing a pretty crappy job of trying.

"Oh my God. It's not that funny." I spat.

"Just lighten up. If you saw what you looked like, you'd have the same reaction. I mean, it was priceless. (insert more uncontrollable giggling here) I mean your arms were flailing and you just...Pffffft!"

I roll my eyes and sit back up. I don't have time for this. Gotta be there in 23. Must hurry. Why do these things always have to happen to me?

I grab a skirt, knee highs, and a shirt. Literally in 6 minutes, I'm ready to go. I don't even know why I bother choosing my outfits with that much stress. It's not like anyone cares or anything. No one will ever bother to compliment my skirt or hairstyle. It's sad for some people, but I don't care either way.

Hoisting up my big and bulky backpack, I start outside. I once weighed my backpack at school one time when one of my teachers just happened to have a scale in the room. And it weighed in at a whopping 56 pounds with all my books inside. It's almost like carrying a small kid around on my back all day. My locker isn't much help. It's tiny and hardly half my things fit inside. It's a struggle to close it.

About 3 minutes outside, I consider turning around and getting my hoodie. But I'm already pretty close to school, so why bother? I think I can suck it up for a while. I hate the cold weather. I like the sun, temperatures over 70 degrees, and clear skies. I don't like wearing long pants and coats.

I think it's something like 23 degrees out here. I shiver and clutch my backpack tighter. I kind of regret not going back for my hoodie now. It would be pretty perfect to have right now.

Crunch..Crunch..Crunch..Crunch

There are still unraked leaves from a few months ago. They're piled up in little clumps on the side of the concrete sidewalk. Combined with the frost on the ground, they make a funny noise when you step on them. The crisp, dry air makes my cheeks flush red and my eyes water. I'm almost to school, I can see the big fence with the black bars from here. Just thinking about the heating system keeps me going, but my violently chattering teeth slow me down.

Sometimes I wish I had a friend to walk to school with. It would make a ton of things easier. I could focus less on being cold, I could have someone to talk to. Only one thing is holding me back: the fact that everyone hates me. I guess you could say that every new kid feels this way on her fourth day at a new school.

New Girl Problem #1: You have no friends.

Walking up the steps to the front doors of my school, relief floods me. When I open the door, the heat warms me up instantly.

"Aaaaahh....." I sigh in relief.

I must have looked pretty strange doing this because a few juniors stopped and looked at me like I was an ugly wasp on the wall. I bet that's actually what I am to them. Just a little dumb thing that takes up space.

One of them leans in and cups her hand to the other ones ear. She whispers something that's loud enough for me to hear. (on purpose I believe)

"Attention whore. All new kids just have to have to be the center of attention don't they?" She says.

The other person laughed and turned around and walked away. The other girl looked over her shoulder and gave me the bitch face.

Bitches. Go die.

All I can do is brush it off, fake a smile, and deal with it. And no one notices. I must be pretty good at keeping up this acting job. I could just be an actress if I wanted too. But then I realize, actresses have to be pretty, so there goes that idea.

New Girl Problem #2: Rumors are spread about you before people even know you.

Now I hope that today won't be as shitty and miserable as all the ones in the past. That would be good. For once, I probably wouldn't want to secretly kill myself in the bathroom in between classes.