𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐄𝐌

† 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚗𝚎 †

 The very first thing you noticed at Coal Creek High School was that it was unbelievably hard to blend into a tight-knit community that had already decided to hate you. At first, you thought you had something on your face from the way girls would turn and stare as you walked down the hall with your books stacked under your arm. You realized it wasn't just that when you overheard a group of people in the library, hunched over a worktable while you listened in from behind a tall bookshelf.

"Didn'tcha see her? It's that Newhart girl."

"What about her?"

"She's a bastard child."

Word had apparently traveled fast about your parentage. You chose to blame this on your late grandmother who had been a Coal Creek resident up until she died three years back. She constantly sent letters to your house in Detroit, condemning your mother for birthing you out of wedlock and other such sinful acts against the Lord. It would be no wonder to you if she had blabbed about it to her neighbors as well.

The second thing you noticed was that no matter where you went, no matter what you were doing, someone always had their eye on you. This went hand in hand with the rumors but you suspected it had more so to do with the outfit you were wearing than anything else. 

 You were never quick to judge one's modesty (or lack thereof) but it became your issue when boys stopped dead in their tracks just to gawk at your exposed skin from across the hall. This put you on the shitlist of just about every taken girl at the godforsaken school, which was exactly what you needed.

When classes were finally dismissed, you made a break for your locker to collect the rest of your homework. There wasn't much of it since you were still new, but it was enough to keep you busy for a good hour or so at the kitchen table that night while your mom made dinner.

You couldn't wait to tell her about the day you just had. Maybe, if you were lucky, she'd let you transfer to the town just west of Coal Creek. There wouldn't be any rumors about you there, surely. With the roll of your eyes, you reached up to slam your locker shut when you heard a soft voice call out from behind you.

"I-I like your shoes!"

You turned around quickly to see a girl standing there. She looked young and you automatically assumed she was an underclassman, possibly even a freshman. She had soft-looking brunette hair that fell in natural curls around her shoulders and was wearing a long off-yellow cardigan. You recognized her from your History class where she had been the only one not to glare daggers in your direction as you awkwardly found your way to your seat in the back.

Caught off guard by her compliment, you looked down at your feet. They were just Chuck Taylors but you had to admit they were just about the whitest shoes you'd seen walking the halls that day. "Thank you," you replied hesitantly, wondering if it were just the opening of an insult. "I like your dress."

She smiled timidly and reached out her hand. "My name's Lenora. Lenora Laferty. My grandma says you just moved into the old Goodwin house up the hill."

Lenora spoke as if she were constantly asking for permission. She seemed nice enough, though, and you figured you were safe from tricks for the time being. "Yeah, I did," you smiled, adjusting your books so you could shake her hand. "Just me and my mom."

A bell rang somewhere off in the school and you realized that this was the closest thing to southern hospitality that you were gonna get that day. After a split-second inner debate, you decided to try your luck with it. "Hey, do you know the schedule for the school bus? I think the lady in the office has it out for me."

Lenora giggled and tucked her hand back under the stack of books. "She doesn't take too kindly to new people. Not a lot of folks here do. But once you settle in, I'm sure you'll find your crowd."