Chapter Two

 

 

CHAPTER TWO

 

     The alarm woke me up from a good, deep sleep at 5:30am.  I have never wanted to throw a clock so much than I did on this morning.  I hit the snooze and fell back to sleep knowing in my mind that that was not the smartest move.  Thoughts from the previous night began to creep back into my head and the added sleep I was hoping for was immediately diseased by forgotten locker combinations and missed classes.  In utter hopelessness I peeled my body from the warm, soft sheets and on sleepy legs made my way to a much needed shower.  Okay, adults have coffee which I don’t mind, but nothing beats a shower to wash the sandman’s flakes from the eyes.  I dressed in my new, cool yellow plaid mini skirt with a plain white t-shirt with white knee highs and loafers.  The look was a bit couple years ago, but I still liked it.  Call me a fashion risk-taker!  After blow drying my hair and applying my make-up, I was ready to take a moment and just look at myself in the mirror.  I can do this.  I took a deep sigh and tried to smile.  I couldn’t fool myself.  Who was I kidding I heard in my head as I walked downstairs towards the kitchen. 

     “You look very nice,” my mom greeted as I walked through the door.

     “Thanks,” I said with little emotion and popped a slice of bread in the toaster.

     “Would you like a ride?” my mom offered.

     “I’m getting one.  It’s from a big yellow thing,” I said sarcastically.  I didn’t want to hurt my mom’s feelings so I continued. “No thanks Mom.  I can’t delay this.  I may as well jump right into routine.”

     “Well, that’s a good attitude.  You may actually be right.  Your bus is supposed to pick you up at 6:15 right?”

     “Yep, so I guess this is the moment,” I said as I took a bite of my toast.  I took another cleansing sigh and grabbed my purse and backpack.  I kissed my mom on the cheek and gave her a “please don’t make me do this” gaze.  Her smile was faint, but the look in her eye was compassionate and I knew I would be on her mind for most of the day.

     The bus stop was across the street from our house and I was the first one there.  I didn’t have to wait long before the bus showed up and stopped like a shining yellow carriage at my feet.

     “Hello there!” the older man behind the wheel said.  His tone was soft and calming and he had a grandfather quality to him that really put my nerves at ease.  “So I see you have the bus stop all to yourself.”

     “I suppose so,” I answered.

     “No worries.  More kids will show up tomorrow.  The first day is usually light.  Hop aboard.”

     I climbed the three steps and took the front seat.

     “A lot of kids get a ride to school on the first day.  I, personally, think you should jump in with both feet.  Start a good routine from the beginning,” he winked and smiled before closing the doors and, putting the bus into gear with a jostling kachunk, we were off.

     How could I not like my bus driver especially with such sound reasoning skills?

     At the next stop we picked up this really cute guy.  As he walked up the stairs, he ran his hand through his silky brown hair.  His eyes met mine the minute he stepped on the bus.  I could feel my face flush and the more I tried to stop it the hotter my face got.  Of course, to start my day off right, he sat right down beside me.

     “Is this seat taken?” he asked me.

     I glanced out the corner of my eye and noticed a small twinkling smile on the bus driver’s face.  Just when I didn’t think my face couldn’t get any more red, I was able to melt into a vivid crimson.

     “No.  Please, have a seat,” I said.

     “Thank you,” he said. “Are you new around here?”

     “Yes, kind of,” I said with a slight quiver in my voice. “We moved here in July.”

     “Well, welcome to the neighborhood,” the guy said and extended his hand. “My name is Chris.”

     Now let me tell you.  I had the non-physical contact blush going.  Touching that hand and looking into those eyes I knew would throw me way past the reds and straight into purple.  At this point I had two choices.  I could acknowledge defeat or just play it off like I didn’t look like my internal body temperature had hit 200 degrees.  What would you choose?

     “Trinity,” I said quickly, shook his hand, and tried with all of my might to shield my face.  I think he understood because he smiled, showing these incredible dimples, and looked down at his feet.  How long was this bus ride anyway?

     “Hey, how about we get together tonight and I’ll show you the neighborhood?”

     “Yeah, I guess I could do that.  I live right on Sumner Blvd.” I said.

     “Oh, I remember seeing the moving van. I know where you live. Is 7 okay?”

     “Yeah, 7 is good,” I replied with quick glances up.

     There were a few more stops along the road.  The bus doors opened and kids filed on with tired and defeated expressions.  No one is ever ready for the lazy days of summer to end.  There were some kids who looked a bit snotty and some who smiled when they caught my glance.  Most of them knew each other and that made me feel a little uneasy.  I knew it was going to be difficult to break into social cliques that have been together since Kindergarten.  Even Chris had turned around to chat with some kids behind us.  Maybe I had underestimated my new beginning.

     In the midst of my reverie, the bus came to a sudden halt and when I focused I realized we were already at school.  The bus had pulled around the U-shaped parking lot and the driver had turned off the engine and stood up waiting for everyone’s attention.

     “Good morning everyone.  My name is Bill Wallace.  You can call me Bill if you want.  This is bus number 719.  I will pick you up and take you home.  I hope I don’t have to remind everyone about how to act in a school bus, but just in case you need a refresher I’ll let you know a few rules.  Please stay in your seats.  You may open the windows if you need the air, but please stay inside the bus.  If you have to chew gum, keep it in your mouth and not on the back of the seats.  Listen, take it easy on me.  I’m an old man and don’t get paid a lot to do this.”

     Mr. Bill gave us all a little smile and wink and we knew that he was kidding yet serious at the same time. 

     “Last of all,” he continued, “before you go into the school, we’re going to do a little emergency drill.  Those of you who prefer the backseats are responsible for opening the emergency exit doors and helping everyone out.  So let’s get this going,” Mr. Bill said with a clap and walked down the aisle to help the boys in the backseat pull the latch and open the emergency doors.  He gave us all directions as they worked and when they got the doors opened, the boys jumped out and helped everyone out of the back of the bus.  It was an interesting way of getting out of the bus and an interesting start to my first day.

     “Hey Trinity!” I heard behind me.  I turned to see Chris walking towards me.  “What is your homeroom?”

     “Mrs. Sanchez in Room 0104,”  I told him looking at my small class schedule that I had shoved in a pocket.

     “Well, I’ll see ya there.  I’m in Room 0105 right across the hall.  Have a good first day,” he said and walked away leaving me staring at him until he was swallowed up by the mass of students walking everywhere.

     I stood there for a while just looking around at the sight.  I couldn’t believe that I was actually here.  I watched kids quietly walking into the school.  Some were together in groups and some were alone.  There were groups of guys nudging each other and watching the girls in tight jeans and short skirts that were assembled in small circles giggling and stealing glances at the boys.  There was an excitement in the air that could light up New York City.  Kids were meeting each other and reuniting with old friends.  I slowly walked towards the front doors.  I was terrified to make eye contact with anyone.  There was too much going on.  I took a deep breath and focused on just getting to my locker.

     Through the front doors there were even more people.  They were doing the same things as the kids outside, but many were hanging out at their lockers.  I found the closest set of steps and began to descend, constantly excusing myself as I walked down each step.  These steps seemed so large at the Freshman Orientation and now they were almost claustrophobic.  I found myself at the bottom finally and started to cruise through the freshman locker areas.  I found my locker and dashed over to the door to begin the sequence of numbers that would hopefully open it on the first try.  I had bent over to set my book bag on the floor when I felt someone hit me and I fell flat on my face.  I managed to turn my head a little and got a glimpse of a skinny girl with long brown hair sitting on me.

     “Excuse me,” I choked out.

     “Hmm?” the girl said then almost immediately stood up.  “Well help her!” she yelled at the boy standing next to her.

     The guy she was with reached down and picked me up in one swift movement.  He gently set me on my feet, picked up my bag, and handed it back to me.  The only thing I could do was weakly smile before he strode off down the hall with the girl following close behind hopping around like a small terrier.  I was left standing completely speechless and dumbfounded.

     “Welcome to Sumner Bay,” I heard a voice say.

     I turned around just in time to see the stern look of the girl at the locker beside me.    

     “Thank you,” I said. “I’m new to Sumner Bay.  My name is Trinity.”

     “I’m Becca,” the girl said with a slight upward tilt of her head.  “What you just witnessed was Summer D’Amico and this week’s new beau.”

     “You mean she has a new one every week?”

     “Usually.  She has since the seventh grade from what I hear.  Where’s you home room?”

     “Room 0104,” I told Becca.

     “You’re in my home room.  I’ll walk you there, but if we don’t hurry we’re going to be late.”

     We both walked in silence to our homeroom.  Right as I got through the door, the bell rang.  I sat down in the closest seat as Becca took a seat closer to the front at the far end of the class.  Homeroom lasted about 20 minutes.  Homeroom is where we listened to morning announcements, took role, distributed various things such as newsletters and report cards when the time came.  I brought a book with me so after the morning announcements I decided to read a little.  I paged through the book, but the words just became a blur.  Somehow I couldn’t put it down though.  I flipped the pages like a fan as I looked around the classroom.  My homeroom teacher’s name was Mrs. Sanchez and she taught Spanish.  She was a short, round lady with painfully black hair and always wore a smile.  She was always laughing and had such a loud and wonderful laugh.  Her classroom was bright with fiesta decorations and Spanish phrases all over the walls.  Just looking around would make anyone want to sign up immediately for Spanish classes.  After the roll was read most of the class sat around and talked to one another.  Some of the kids were chatting with Mrs. Sanchez.  I glanced back at Becca who was casually leaning back in her seat engrossed in a novel.  I took a deep breath and could feel my nerves calming until the bell rang. I put my unread novel back in my backpack and stood up to leave.

     “Hey Trinity,” I heard behind me.  I turned to see Becca walking towards me.  “I forgot to ask to see your schedule.”

     I handed her my scheduled and she quickly glanced over it.

     “Well, it looks like we have fourth period together.  If you don’t have plans we can do lunch together?”

     “That would be great.  I’ll see you then,” I said as I headed towards my Art class and Becca headed towards her Geometry class.

     My first class was Art.  Since I was so close, I was one of the first people there.  I walked in and took a seat on a tall stool at a long table.  A short while later other kids started to pour through the door. 

     “Hi. Do you mind if I sit beside you?”

     I turned around and saw this girl who looked like she had just stepped out of the seventies.  She had long, blonde hair and dark eyes.  She was dressed in a long flowery skirt with a white shirt with billowy sleeves.

     “No, I don’t mind,” I said.

     “My name is Star.  How’re ya doin’?” she said as she offered her hand.

     I shook her hand and told her my name.  She smiled and bent down to put her things under the stool.

     “Are you new here?” she asked.

     “Yes, I am.  I moved here from College City.  How long have you been living in Sumner Bay?”

     “Exactly 24 hours now,” she told me as she looked at her watch for reference.  “We moved here from Venice Beach, California.  My parents love to move around, but they’re getting older now so they decided to settle down here.”

     “Wow.  You’ve only been in town for 24 hours?  How are you coping with jet lag?”   

     “Oh, we didn’t fly.  We drove.  We’ve been driving all summer.  We’d stop here or there and live for a week or two then pack up and go.  We’ve been down in North Carolina for the past two weeks before coming up here.”

     “That must be very hard moving so much.  We just moved here from College City and I’m having a hard time adjusting and that was just a half hour difference.”

     “It’s not that bad,” Star said just as the teacher began the start of her first-day-at-school lecture that everyone would hear six different times before the day ended.

     Art was great.  Star was very nice and the teacher seemed very easy-going.  Her name was Julia Saint Claire.  How’s that for a name?  Ms. St. Claire was very young and she supplemented her teaching income by selling her paintings and sculptures.  She was very proud of them and told us that she would occasionally bring in some of her work to show to the class.  Everyone was very respectful to Ms. St. Claire considering she was so young and easy to relate to.

     In our first class Ms. St. Claire gave us paper and crayons.  We had to make a squiggle line that connected to the beginning of the line.  Next we had to use the crayons to color in the spaces that were created by the squiggly line.  We had to be elaborate and creative.  This was the one class we could talk while we worked.  Ms. St. Claire told us any form of expression is art within reason of course which made us all giggle.

     After Art, I went to Pre-Algebra.  The teacher, Mr. Doyle, was very blunt and to the point.  He told us what he expected and what we were to accomplish by the end of the semester.  My next class was up on the second floor.  This was the first time today I had ventured upstairs.  The steps were so crowded and so many kids were racing to their next class that I wound up being five minutes late.  I quickly walked into the class and took the first seat that caught my eye.  The little middle aged woman at the front of the class smiled gently at me.

     “High school can be quite overwhelming can’t it?” she asked me.

     “Yes, ma’am,” I said happy in the thought that I wasn’t in trouble.

     The teacher’s name was Mrs. Lynch and she was very laid back.  She explained to us that a couple minutes late was fine just as long as we come in quietly and got straight to work.  She continued to explain that she rarely got angry, but when she did look out!  Mrs. Lynch went through the class rules and then told us a little bit about the class.  As I looked around the class I realized that everyone looked a lot older than me.  I started to get very nervous when I began to think I was in the wrong class.  I could feel the color drain from my face and I began to sweat.  Unfortunately, the first seat that caught my eye was right in front of Mrs. Lynch.  She stopped for a moment and focused her attention to me.

     “Are you alright?” she asked genuinely concerned.

     “This isn’t Geography is it?”

     “No sweetie.  Geography is next door.”

     I nervously smiled, picked up my things and quickly left to go across the hallway.  Of course the inevitable laughter followed and right then I just wanted to crawl under a rock.  Now that I was out of that class, I had to go into another class and explain why I was late.  I hesitated for a moment outside of my proper class.  I inhaled deeply and walked through the door.

     “Good morning.  Glad you could join us.  And how is Mrs. Lynch doing this morning?” the teacher asked sarcastically. 

     “She’s doing fine sir,” I whispered as the class began to snicker.

     “Well, it was good of you to visit her.  And what is your name?”

     “Trinity Thompson sir.”

     “I’m Mr. Brooks.  Welcome to Geography.  Please find yourself a seat,” Mr. Brooks said motioning towards the class.

     I was very nervous and almost on the verge of tears when once again I found myself hurrying towards the closest chair.  I dug into my book bag and brought out a notebook and pen.  Mr. Brooks took a moment to close the door and I took a moment to gaze around the classroom now that I was in the right one.  I noticed the pretty girl who had sat on me this morning.  She was busy writing.  I looked over at the girl beside me.  She smiled and I smiled back at her.  Mr. Brooks came back to his desk and began talking about his class.  His tone was very monotonous and I could tell this would be a very long and boring class.

     When Geography was finally over, I made my way to Earth Science.  This was my last class of the morning and let me tell you I was glad.  It had been a rough morning.  I took an empty seat beside Becca who was busy thumbing through a text book.

     “Hey, how’s it going?” I said to her as I plopped down in the empty seat beside her.

     “Oh, fine.  Just another year of Earth Science.”

     “Another year?”

     “Yes, another year.  I took Earth Science at the Cheshire School, but the credit was not allowed.  Oh, this is Karyn,” Becca said motioning towards the black girl behind her.  “She went to the Cheshire School too.  She’s joining us for lunch.”

     Karyn looked up and smiled.  I returned the smile and the two of them continued thumbing through books.  I turned my attention to the door just as Star came in.  We both saw each other at the same time and I waved her over to the empty seat in front of me.

     “Hey you’re in this class too?” she said as she sat down.

     “Yeah, what are your last two classes?”

     “Well, I have,” she began as she unfolded her schedule, “Gym for fifth period and Literature for sixth.”

     “I have Gym fifth too!” I said truly happy that I wouldn’t have to endure physical education alone.

     By that time the teacher had walked in and was busy writing his name on the board.  Becca and Karyn put down their text books and turned their attention to me and Star.

     “Oh, I’m sorry,” I said, “Star this is Becca and Karyn.”

     They all said hello to each other, but not as whole-heartedly as I had hoped.  I liked Becca, but she seemed very reserved whereas Star was very outgoing and fun.  The last thing I wanted was my new acquaintances to dislike each other.

     “How about sitting with us at lunch?” I asked Star hoping maybe things would lighten up out of class.

     “That would be terrific.  I’d like that.  Thanks.”

     Our science teacher introduced himself as Mr. Keating.  He was young and nice looking and I knew this class would be great.  He was very enthusiastic about his subject and stressed the fact that we had to learn about our planet to truly appreciate it.  I sat back and gave him my full, undivided attention.  This was by far my favorite class.  Art was fun and Ms. St. Claire was nice, but a nice looking guy teacher will beat that any day!