June 22, 2010
By Anonymous

I stepped through the front doors of the old brick building, my mind twisted in a swirl of thoughts. My eyes fell on a faded brown sign painted on the wall.
"Welcome to Ridgeview High School!" the sign read.
I sighed. Another year. Another school. Another new start. Who knows how many different schools I'd been to. 10, 20, or wait maybe it was 100? But it didn't matter. Each school was always the same. Or wait, correction, the process was always the same.
1. Everyone in my school turning out to be a complete jerk to me.
2. Me ending up finding no real friends
And, what do you know,
3. It really doesn't matter because, guess what, I'm moving to some other school. Again
But not this time... I wasn't going to let that happen to me this year. Not. Again...

A screechingly high-pitched bell rang, disturbing my thoughts like a rock thrown in a stagnant lake. Swarms of students began pouring into the now noise-filled hallways. I strained to make my way to what was supposed to be my 1st hour class. But I ended up getting lost and being the last person in the classroom. Everyone in the class looked up at me, of course whispering about the"new girl".
"May I see your schedule?" the teacher asked. I did so, and looking up on the board saw the name MR. TURNER scrawled in neat, legible handwriting.Why is it that all teachers have practically the most stupidestly common last names? Everyone was staring at me and every once in a while someone would whisper something to the person next to them. Ok, you have no idea how many times I'd been through this exact set-up, so no, I'm not going to explain the exact scene to you. What seemed like a decade later, Mr.Turner finally looked up and gave my schedule back to me,
"You can sit in that empty seat next to Devon," he said.
Gee thanks I TOTALLY know who this Devon person is, I thought sullenly, looking around.
After eventually finding my seat I heard a guy's voice beside me whisper,
I looked to my side and took in this, what was his name?, oh, Devon's appearance. Wait. Pause the story. Unlike most nonsense, junk, love-filled stories, I am not going to waste another 4 paragraphs describing one guy's looks to you. So here's the shortened version of what he basically looked like: brown hair, green eyes. There you go. Now that's what I call an accomplishment. Describing someone's appearance in four words.
I stared at him in a you're-kidding-if-you-think-i'm-going-to-talk-to-you kind of look. But then I remembered my not-to-be-a-loser goal, and I gave Devon an overly sweet smile and said in a girly voice,
Except I don't think I got it right, because he gave me this extremely weird look, like that response was not the response he was expecting. At all. And then, get this, he started laughing. Laughing like a complete dork. Or, atleast that's what I thought.
"When you get over your mental laughing fit, don't even think about talking to me," I snapped.
I got up to sharpen my pencil, and that's when some other kids in the class started laughing as well.
Realizing that they probably were laughing at me I reached one hand slowly to my back and pulled off a piece of paper. Two words were scribbled on the paper. "Kick me." Wow. Yes, that is all I can say. Wow. Is that really the best you can do? Wow.
I calmly made my way back to my desk. I turned to this "Devon", ripped up the paper and threw the ripped pieces in his face.
I looked away, but then turned back around. I wasn't going to let him get away that easily,
"Is that eally the best you can do? You could've atleast come up with something more creative. But, if that's the way you things to be, then fine. Bring. It. On."

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