Elizabeth: New School, New Life

This isthe first chapter of the book, writing in Liz's piont of view.

It was my first day at the high school in town. Mr. Duson, our new neighbor, had given us some pie his wife baked before I went to school this morning and Mom wanted me to take some as my breakfast. I soon grabbed a to-go cup and made myself some hot cocoa, putting both the pie and the cup into my bag.

“I’m leaving!” I said, waving goodbyes and quickly hugged my young brother Vincent. He avoided me and I suddenly remembered that he doesn’t like to be touched since he has Asperger. He waved me bye and stood by the doorway as usual, watching me leave like the time back in France.

Here’s a fun thing about my brother that, when he was young, every time I was leaving for school he cried and hit the wall or threw toys like crazy, begging for me to stay. Now Vincent’s getting better and learned that I am just going to school but not leaving him. Vincent is really a good kid and he is smart, maybe smarter than me, I admitted.

 

The high school in town was really large. I couldn’t find the front door when I first walked in. But Dad had showed me a picture on his computer before, that the front door was the only way the students could enter the school in the morning. After nine o’clock the school opened other doors for people to come in.

“Excuse me,” though I brought a map, I still couldn’t tell where my classroom was.

“Yes, young lady, may I help you?” a man in white replied, staring at my new school uniform.

“Do you know how can I get to ninth-A homeroom?” I asked.

The man pointed at the tree in front of us and said, “See that tree, my dear? Behind it, there’s a door. Just walk straight inside. On the left hand side, the second room will be.” He smiled at me, “If you are in the ninth-A room, I will be your PE teacher. Just call me Mr. Blake.”

“Mr. Blake . . .” I repeated and smiled back, “My name is Elizabeth White.”

Mr. Blake nodded, and said goodbye to me, “You’d better be hurry, Elizabeth. It’s almost class time!”

 

The students in our class had all heard of my arrival. They were kind and they even prepared gifts for me-the new student.

One of my classmates, a cute girl with black glasses, short curly brown hair, and apple-like cheeks walked toward me and held my hand.

“We will be really good friends, I have a feeling of that! My name is Brenda Jinson.” She said. I just smiled and nodded, I didn’t know what to say.

 

I had my first English class. I was set in the “mainstream” class, which is the best English level at school. I was a little bit surprised since I speak English with a kind of accent that mixed with French, Chinese, and English which’s awkward. The teacher, Mr. Harrison, was from England and had really heavy English accent. He talked so beautifully, like singing.

This morning, I had also had my math class and biology class and those were both awesome! Math and biology were the easiest subjects for me back in France. How surprising when I found out that I had already had those lessons in France and the good news was that I could go to AP classes when it was only my first day and first year in high school! But, here came the bad news. I am considered as a freak and a girl who could only study and that’s all. No guys would like me. I would have no BFFs, and YES, I am definitely THAT kind of girl who doesn’t have people to talk to at all and became really speechless in front of people every time. That’s who I am and I don’t really care that much. I had had no friends ever since kindergarten and I am used to it. Or am I just comforting myself? I am not sure about it . . .

 

Finally, it came the lunch time. I had been so looking forward to the lunch since Brenda had told me about how wonderful the food there was!

“Wanna go first, Asian face?” One of my classmates from math class . . . I couldn’t remember his name . . . anyways, asked me if I want to go into the line first.

“Are you sure? Thanks then.” I said.

“You know what? Though I have some Chinese blood inside, I don’t so much like an Asian. But, you know, Asian girls are beautiful. Ha!”

I stared at him. That’s a good example of childish boys my age. Since I was young, I had showed my “interest” to guys older than me. For example, I really liked a guy who lived two blocks far when I was six and I was in Taiwan, my grandma’s home country for a few years. The guy was like . . . twelve? I thought that he was a hero and I was TOTALLY into him.

Speaking of guys . . .

 

A guy with deep brown hair and a pair of beautiful blue eyes appeared, talking with his friends and walking toward the line. I stared at him, but soon found out that it was impolite.

The boy turned and saw me. He quickly looked at me and turned back to keep talking with his friends. My eyes followed him from the line to his seat.

“Ur, Liz,” Brenda, who was sitting right next to me, gave me a “I-know-it” look and kept on saying, “that boy, Willelm Richards, is the most popular guy in this high school. He is a straight-A student. Girls like him a lot and he treats all girls he knows very well. You are not going to be with him. Take my words for it.”

I nodded, “Thanks, Brenda, for telling me. But I am not going to be with him. I don’t even know him.”

Brenda didn’t say anything, she just kept eating, and again, I started staring at Willelm Richards’ table, planning something evil-to “accidently” meet him someplace . . .