School

The next morning, I woke up at six and got dressed. Combat boots, tattered black jeans over galaxy leggings, and a long sleeve black shirt. I put on my blue and white striped hoodie over my purple long sleeve shirt. After thinking about it, I threw my Nirvana shirt in my bag and extra deodorant just in case.

I was putting my hair into a side braid when Mrs Young knocked on my door. She opened the door before I could tell her to go away.

She handed me a small black box. "I wanted to give you this before you left for school."

I took the box and opened it. Laying inside the box was an iPhone 8 plus. I looked up at Mrs Young. She handed me a powder blue, protective case.

"Why are you giving me a really expensive phone?"

"I didn't want to send you to school, without a way to get a hold of me. My number is already in there, as well as Nathan's, and Jay's."

I nodded.

"Gabriella, I know this is hard for you. But, I really want to help you. I want to help make you feel better, but I can't if you don't talk to me about important things."

I looked her in the eye. Subtlety was not the best strategy right now. "You can't help me, because you can't change anything."

You can't bring my parents back. You can't foster my brother. You can't just suddenly make me care about people who are just going to abandon me sooner or later.

"I can listen," she said. "I can change some things."

"Don't worry about it, Mrs Young. It's best not to get my hopes up." I slid my sketchbook and pencil case into my bag, then went downstairs.

"Do you want a ride to school," Mrs Young asked as she followed me.

I sighed. "Sure, why not?"

Mrs Young handed me a banana. "We'd better get going. Don't want you to be late for school."

It took us around three minutes to drive to school. I could have easily walked there myself. I gathered my things and turned to get out of the car, but Mrs Young looked at me.

"Do you have everything? Gym clothes? Binders?"

I looked at her and couldn't help but roll my eyes. "I'm fine. I promise. If I need anything, I'll call you."

She nodded. "It's all charged up, so don't be afraid to record lessons, or something like that."

I nodded. "Can I go in now? I don't want to be late."

Mrs Young looked at the school. She seemed to be thinking about something. "Are you sure you don't want me to walk you in? I could chat to your principal about your situation."

"No, you can't do that," I said with a shake of my head. "I'll die of embarrassment and never forgive you. Just go home. I've got this."

She sighed, but nodded and sat back. "Okay, but be sure to call if you have trouble."

I nodded and got out of the car. I looked up at my new high school. It looked like any regular school. Huge, two story, almost castle-like building. There were what seemed like thousands of windows, that allowed you to peek into the rooms beyond. It looked like a place where teenagers go to die.

People were pushing past me. The bell was far from ringing, but there was a steady stream of students and teachers on their way inside. As I walked up the many steps to the front entrance, I noticed a few crackheads on the steps vaping and trading cigarettes. I held my breath and quickly walked past them. Climbing up those steps felt like climbing a mountain.

I walked into the school. The front door opened into a vast hallway. There was a row of lockers, with a door every five lockers or so. Off to the side, a window that looked into the main office. I saw a middle aged woman sitting at a desk. She was on the phone, and seemed a little bored with whomever she was dealing with.

As I walked into the office, I noticed this woman didn't seem like a typical secretary. She wasn't plum or skinny, just a nice in between. I looked at the woman and bit my lip. I hated talking to new people. Her name plate on her desk said Mrs Chamberlain. She had blonde hair, green eyes, long pink fingernails, and was wearing a shirt that had owls on it.

"Yes, Mr Frankburn," she said into the phone. "I'll see to it right away." She held up a finger, so I sat in a chair next to the door.

I took the opportunity to look around. The office was nice. Not too bright and cheery, and not too dull. Her walls were decorated with pictures of students. They all looked like they were happy. Some were doing sports, others were singing, or acting on a stage.

"Yes, I know that." Pause. "Well I can't do anything about that. You're going to have to ask-" Long pause. An eye roll. "Sir, please calm down. You'll have to ask Mr Johnson yourself."

I took my sketch book out of my bag and began to doodle. I was trying to perfect my hands.

"Mr Frankburn, I have to go. I'll schedule you in at two forty for a meeting with Mr Johnson. Have a nice day." She hung up and sighed. "I'm so sorry, dear. That was one of our more chatty and annoying parents. What can I do for you," she asked with a smile.

I slid my sketchbook into my bag and stood up. "I'm new. Gabriella Frost? Do I have a schedule, or a map or something?"

Mrs Chamberlain looked around on her desk. A bell rang and I bit my lip. Of course, I'll be late. That won't make me stand out at all.

"Ah, here's your schedule," she said as she pulled a paper out of a drawer. She also pulled out a thick envelope of papers. "Please get your parents to sign those, and bring them back tomorrow. Your schedule is on top of the pile."

She handed it to me and I quickly took the stupid package. "I had a guide set up for you, but he's not here yet." Another bell rang as soon as she was done with her sentence. "He better be here soon, but in the meantime, have a seat."

Just as I was about to back up and take a seat, I got hit in the back with the door. I accidentally dropped my things in surprise, then spun around and glared at the boy who had just walked in.

"Watch where you're going next time," I snapped at him. I bent down and collected my package and schedule.

The boy took off his black headphones. I could hear rock music faintly playing from them. His shaggy, sandy blonde hair was messy and unkempt. He raised an eyebrow at me, looking at me like I was a rare creature that shouldn't be here.

"Maybe you shouldn't be standing behind a door," he said as he unzipped his dark green coat. Under his coat, was a green hoodie with some kind of golden triangle design.

"You should still watch where you're going, or do you intend to break people's backs with doors, for as long as you live?"

The boy rolled his eyes. "You didn't get hurt, right?" I shook my head. "Then what's the big deal? Are you always so self righteous," he asked.

He leaned his skateboard against a chair and looked at the woman at the desk. "Mrs Chamberlain, I will accept my late pass with dignity and respect." He seemed to be putting on dramatics. "Even though this one means I'm getting detention."

Mrs Chamberlain rolled her eyes and picked up a pen. "Please, Link, save the dramatics for the play."

Link grinned at her. "I was hoping my performance earned me a 'get out of jail free' card?"

She shook her head as the phone rang. "Hello, thank you for calling Cedar High School. My name is Mrs Chamberlain. How may I help you?"

I looked at Link. "Late often?"

He looked at me and scowled. "Rude often?"

I rolled my eyes and sat beside his skateboard. He sat next to me.

"Are you new?"

I nodded and sighed. "This is my first day, and it's not going well. My guide isn't here, and I'm super late for class. My foster parents won't be too happy about that."

"Do you need someone to show you around school?"

Before I could answer, Mrs Chamberlain hung up the phone. "Alright," Mrs Chamberlain said loudly to us. She looked at a paper in front of her. "Link, here's how this will work. You have this late pass, but if you show Gabby around, then you won't have detention." She scribbled something on the front, then on the back. She looked Link in the eye, as she extended the paper to him. "Do we have a deal?"

Link stood up with a smile and bowed. "I will show the young lady around with honour and grace." His fake accent made me roll my eyes. He looked at me and picked up his skateboard. "Come on, newbie."

We left the room together and Link led me down the hallway. I began looking around at all the things on the walls. There were pictures of dances that happened years ago, painted murals showing togetherness and community, or something stupid like that. We also passed many trophy cases.

"So, what's your name?"

I looked at him. "Gabriella Frost. You?"

He grinned and did that bow again. "Lincoln Anderson, at your service. People mostly call me Link. What made you start halfway through the year, Gabby?"

There was a pang in my chest. I took a deep breath and exhaled through my nose. ��My name is Gabriella. Not Gabby, not Gab, not Frost, or Frosty. Gabriella."

Link nodded. "Okay, Gabriella. Received and understood." Link glanced at my schedule. "What's your first class?"

"Math with Mr Jeffrey," I said as I looked down at the paper.

"That's my first class too. Funny how the universe works." Link began to lead me down several stairs and into a large cafeteria.

"Welcome to Cedar's lovely, subpar, cafeteria. Here, you can get lukewarm food, cold milk, and amazing pizza when Mrs Smith is working. Be careful for Mr Larson is cooking. He likes to burn food, or serve it without cooking it."

I nodded. Link marched into the kitchen and smiled at them.

"Hello, all of you beautiful people. I didn't get any breakfast, so how much are you willing to take in exchange for a breakfast sandwich?"

An older woman walked up to us. She was shorter, with dark hair that matched her dark clothes. She had a white apron over her outfit.

"I told you that yesterday was the last exception we could make, Lincoln."

Link put on a pout like a small child. "Come on, Mrs Smith. Can't you feed me just this once? I might go hungry if you don't."

"You can have the pop tart that my foster mom put in my pocket," I said.

He held up a finger to me. His eyes never left Mrs Smith's face. "You wouldn't make me wait until lunch, would you?"

Mrs Smith sighed, then handed him a sandwich wrapped in tin foil. At least, I thought it was a sandwich. He unwrapped it while we walked down the hallway. I wrinkled my nose in disgust.

"How can you eat that? It smells horrible!"

"Just don't think about it," Link said with a shrug.

Class had already started when we walked in. The teacher, a man in his mid thirties with a bored expression on his face, turned to us. He rolled his eyes at Link.

"I trust you know that you have detention, Mr Anderson." He said it as a statement. His tone held this annoyed tone.

Link grinned and bowed at the teacher. "If I may, Mr Jeffery. I have a note that says otherwise. But, if you miss me, would you like to come to my birthday party?" He handed Mr Jeffrey the note.

Some people laughed. Mr Jeffery rolled his eyes. He didn't even crack a smile. Link took his seat at a table with three other boys. They slapped him on the back and laughed with him. I looked around. Every table had four students, except one. A table of three girls. They were looking at me. Looking me up and down. I felt like a helpless animal being assessed by its prey.

I began to feel uncomfortable. They were dressed like models, while I was in rags, basically. Each of them had a different hair colour. Red, blonde, and brown. The red head was sitting in the middle. She looked like she was the head of their little group. It reminded me of Heathers.

The teacher looked at me. "Who are you?"

"I'm Gabriella Frost," I said. "I'm new."

"Obviously," one of the girls said with an eye roll.

I felt my cheeks grow warm. I hated the thought of becoming a red tomato in front of this class. Mr Jeffery sighed.

"Take the last seat. I thought that went without saying."

I sat at the girl's table. I pulled a notebook and a pencil out of my bag as they watched. I looked at them and raised an eyebrow. The red head rolled her eyes, flicked her hair and looked down at her phone. The blonde directed her attention to the board, while the brunette began doodling on a piece of paper. I looked up at the board and began taking notes.

I glanced across the room to Link, who flashed me a kind smile. I tried to send one back, but it might have looked like a grimace.