First Come First Serve

It was typical of me to wear a skirt during one of the coldest months of the year in Washington State. I didn't mind the cold much. I was born here, and adapted well to my surroundings as I grew. And I liked skirts. Skirts and sweaters were a favorite combination of mine growing up. I felt feminine, but not too feminine. My long black hair, and dark eye liner shadow matched together well, well enough to avoid contact with others because I looked like a ghost. I was pale and very frail. Not tall, but not short, and not skin and bone, but I wasn't a heavy set girl either. I was "average", as many would say. Your average ghost girl. I was quiet unless spoken to, and even when done, I spoke softly and politely. I did my work, followed the rules, and tried my best to always make the best impressions, especially on the first day of my freshman year. Despite my ready goals for the semester, and even for the rest of my high school life, there was one I was dying to achieve. 

Find that mystery boy.

He was the first thing on my mind when I stepped through those large silver doors, early that September Tuesday morning. My heart leaped as the smell of a freshly waxed floor and a polished beamed ceiling filled my senses. I watched as what looked like thousands of students hustle and bustle along hallways, staircases, through big doors and small doors, in large groups and tiny groups, and many sitting around on lunch tables, eating their boring high school breakfast. My eyes moved fast, searching each size group and table for my mystery lover from my dreams and oh so long ago on my last day of junior high, where we first met. Met as in, I met his eyes and fell instantly in love with someone who didn't know of my eistence. Maybe I was the first thing on his mind as well after we met eyes that faithful day, or maybe I was the furthest thing. So many ideas flooded my head as I searched and searched. The loud voices filled the entire lunchroom, it was hard to contentrate on one person at a time. I didnt even notice Ann's flailing arms and high pitched scream from the window lunch table. 

"Violet!! Violet over here!," She called as she took a few steps towards me. I felt a hot sting in the back of my eyes as I ran toward her. My dearest friend had come home. I felt my skirt skip beats along my knees, and after several weeks and months, I was back in Ann's arms. The day was finally here, and I felt as if I had so much to tell her, yet none of it made any sense to me. I suddenly realized I was sobbing straight into Ann's long plastic rain coat, smudging my black eyes. She patted my head and we both laughed hysterically, as if reuniting was an inside joke only we could share. Which was true. 

"You're finally here! I yelled for you about a million times. It's so loud in here, I didn't think there would be this many people." She said, wiping the smudges of black off her coat. She took my hand and led me down a long hallway, filled with even more students awaiting the first bell. 

"I know. It's packed in here, I feel like a sheep in line waiting to be shaved." 

"Hahaha! Baaaah-aaaaaah." She cracked.

"Where are we going?" I asked. I guess Ann had been here long enough this morning to have already known a route. 

"To the bathroom so we can fix your makeup. You've smudged it off completely and you've only been here  three minutes." She laughed. I laughed too, passing by large window cases that contained trophies and old pictures. For a brief second, I caught my reflection in one of them, and noticed how right Ann was, and how my makeup had really wiped completely off, leaving smears under my eyes. We turned into the ladies room, which was also completely packed, but this time with teenage girls, huddled around taking pictures, checking their makeup, and even changing clothes. 

"Damn." Me and Ann both said at once. High school was getting more and more claustrophobic with each new door. When I finally had the chance, I took an empty spot across from the mirror. Ann handed me her makeup bag and I rummaged through it. Once I was done re-applying, I took a step back. My eyes were like smokey mud puddles. My skin was pale and smooth. My hair caressed my shoulders, down to beneath my chest, straight and true. 

Well, I guess I'm as ready as I'll ever be.

I threw Ann her makeup bag and slung my backpack over my shoulder, taking one last look in the mirror. I was never really one to care this much about my appearance, but because it was the first day, and maybe the day I met the boy of my dreams, I wanted to make sure I looked my best. Walking back to the lunchroom seemed to take longer than when we left. Ann rambled on about all the cute boys she met while at her religious youth camp, but I didn't tune in. I searched the halls up and down, from group to passing group, still searching for him. I felt kind of bad for ignoring Ann, and then on top of that, not even telling her all about my summer with my mystery lover, who only showed up at night, and every once in a while during a nap. I needed to get him out of my head. I couldn't let this consume me, especially not on the first day when I needed to stay focused the most. Im here to learn, study hard, and graduate. Boys will have to come later. 

"Violet?" I heard a shrill from behind me, and boy it sent me chills. Ann turned around and let out a huge groan. 

"Hey Ashley," I said, turning around with Ann. "How was your summer?" 

Ashley's red hair whipped my face as she pounced on me with with an enormous hug, like she hadn't seen me in a lifetime. 

I wish it were a lifetime.

"It was great! Me and my mom did summer photoshoots all summer long. Did you see us in the malls swimsuit catalog? We were in the summer dresses too." She said loud and clear making sure everyone around us heard her thrilling news. But they were about as interested as Ann and I. 

High school was different. No one seemed to care what you looked like, or hear the loudest voice in the room, or pay attention to anything really. They were like zombies, walking  in either group A, B, C, or D. Much different than junior high, where your business, was also everyones business. From the students, to the custodians, if you had something juicy, it was known. It made me feel a little evil and good inside to know that no one cared about Ashley's mother-daughter photoshoots. Not even me. 

"That sounds like fun," I said swallowing my pride. Ashley flipped her red hair behind her shoulder and gave me and Ann a smirk. 

"So Ann, I'm guessing you went to your usual preppy-goody, youth camp huh?" Ashley twirled a strand of hair around one finger, twisting an knotting the ends. Ann glanced at me then back at Ashley, and what she said next I'll never forget, and I'll tell it till the day she dies. 

"Actually yeah it was really fun, maybe you should come with me next summer-oh wait maybe not, you might burst into flame the second you step in because of how 'goody' you were in junior high." Ann said, giving Ashley a big sarcastic smile, making me a proud best friend. 

She wrapped her arm with mine and we walked off, leaving Ashley, alone in the dust. I wasn't so sure about the 'bursting into flames' remark, but the rest was very true. Ashley Carol definitely got around in junior high. If there was a boy, she was on his arm, until one week later, she would find a new toy to play with. That was Ashley, full of confidence and early puberty hormones. Some say she even slept with our old music teacher, Mr. Gatson, but a part of me didn't want to believe it. I liked Mr. Gatson, and didn't want to think of him as someone who slept around with a young skank like Ashley Carol. Can you imag8ine how fast that spread in my junior high? 

I wanted a drama free first year here, but thanks to Ann, I wasn't off to a great start.

"Can you believe her? That little w***e could use a church, let alone a camp." Ann said, walking faster, gripping my arm harder. I laughed it off, trying to keep up with Ann's pace. She wasn't wrong about that either. Ashley could have also used a church. I remember in six grade when she was caught for smoking outside of the soccer field fence. That was when I found out how fast news spreads around a bunch of pre-teens. 

A booming males voice came over the intercom: "Attention students, please make your way to your first period class where you will be given you lunch schedule and student handbook. Thank you and have a wonderful day."

"Geez, is Morgan Freeman our principle?" Ann said, sitting her backpack down at one of the lunch tables. 

"Did you remember to bring your schedule?" I asked her, watching as she dug through her backpack three times- over and over again. She cursed allowed and gave me a shot of panicked eyes. I couldn't help but laugh. This was classic Ann. 

"I'm gonna head to the office and se if they have it on file or something. You go ahead, I'll text you." She said, swimming he backpack over and walking off to the back of the lunchroom. I laughed and shook my head. This wasn't the first time Ann had forgotten to bring important papers. In third grade she always forgot to bring her writing journal to class, and after getting caught handing her mine, I was sent to my first day in recess detention. It was easy to say that Ann brought out my evil side, my 'preppy-goody' best friend.

I set my backpack down and searched through my notebooks and brought out my schedule. I zipped it up, and walked with a cause, searching for room 217 for a Ms. Jaina, my first period geometry teacher. Students were rushing, and tripping over each other, looking for their class just like me. Some took it with ease (obviously not freshman), and others were like lab rats, out on the hunt for a strong-scented piece of cheese. More and motor students were starting to disappear into classrooms, and I was beginning to feel lost. My stomach filled with butterflies, my mind wondering if I'll even make it to my first class. The halls were starting to seem empty, except for the few boys behind me. And just like junior high, I heard the loud obnoxious questions like "are you goth?" or "do you cut yourself?" Liking darker colored looks was always being labeled as being 'ego' or 'goth'. I never understood any of it. I didn't looks back, because I didn't mind. I was use to the snide comments from others, and I knew coming into high school that I would be abled to fill zoo cages with the amount of comments ill get, most from the first day. I also didnt mind because their questions sounded like pure curiosity-that or I'm oblivious to their sarcasm. 

I started to walk faster, turning down another hallway, still searching for 217. I thought I had lost them until I heard a different voice yell, "why don't you kill yourself?" That one hit me a little harder out of the others. Not like I wasn't told to kill myself before. I'm almost 15 going into life with a ghost girl appearance. What did I expect?

I finally found room 217, and barged through the door just as the late bell rang. Over 20 different eyes shot at me at once, some of them I recognized from junior high, some of them I did not. I scanned it over and noticed not a mystery boy in sight. Deep down, I felt a little disappointed, and less motivated. I had 5 more periods to go, and a full 30 minutes for lunch. If I didn't see my mystery boy by then, he must not go here. 

I picked a seat next to a familiar face. Evangeline Garcia. She was a short girl my age, who wore glasses and always wore her hair in a braid. She was smart, and had broken english, but she was the perfect choice to sit with. Me and Evangeline weren't the best of friends, but she was definitely a good friend to sit next to in geometry. I knew if I ever had a problem that needed solving, she was always the one to ask for help. I remember back in 5th hgrade, when I first met Evangeline, when her mother made her invite everyone in class to her birthday party, and I was the only one who went because my own mother forced me to go. Thats how me and Evangeline became fast friends, feeding off each others akwardness. 

I looked over to see a large desk with a tall lengthy woman with short blond hair sat in her long sun dress. Surrounding her desk was a space on the wall full of pictures from prom, to family photos. On the other side was what looked like 20 different name tags for marathons she had run. 

Ms. Deadre Jaina

She sat there in silence as the rest of us talked, typing away at something on her computer. When she finally stood up, the whole class fell silent. She walked to the front of the class and began writing her name and something else on the board. 

I am Ms. Jaina and I like these 5 things, and dislike these 5 things

Some of them read the board allowed, others rested their heads onto their desks, already knowing their fate. Sh repeated what was on the board and told us all five things she loves, one of them being math, and all 5 things she didn't like, one of them being gum chewers. A typical teacher response.

"I want all of you to take out a piece of paper, and write down 5 things you like, and 5 things you don't like. It can be anything you want, like a food, or a TV show. You have 10 minutes before you'll come up here and read it allowed to the class." She said, walking back to her desk. I did as told and got out a piece of notebook paper and a pencil, and started to write. What were the five things I liked? What were five things I disliked? So many options to pick from. On one handed, I wanted to impres Ms. Jaina, and write don math as one of my answers too. On the other, I wanted to be honest. I hated math, and all the problems it came with, and how it belonged on the 'five things I don't like' list. As I started writing, the door opened and slammed shut just as quick. I didnt bother to look but continued to think of an impressionable yet truthful five things. 

"Ahh Mr. Snow, so nice of you to bless us with your presence almost 10 minutes late." Said Ms. Jaina. She must have had this student before, and this must have been a recurring theme. 

"Sorry Ms. Jaina, Ed had me caught up in the hallway for my hat." He replied. 

I know that voice. 

I looked up, dropped my pencil, and burned like the scorching sun. My heart was about to give out in any second, and I were to be sent away to the nurse. My breathing was silent as my palms began to sweat and I began to melt away like an ice cube in Arizona. My arms filled with tiny goosebumps and my throat began to swell. Everything was hitting me all at once. I couldnt move my eyes from him. I couldn't look away from his long shaggy hair and ice cold blue eyes, its as if I was being taken away by the tide of the ocean. And I wouold drown and be glad in it. 

It was him

My mystery boy

Author's Note

Please leave any feedback you like, and I hope you enjoyed my third chapter of A True High School Love Story :)