“You’ll do fine. It’s only a new school-not a circus,” my mother says. Ha! If only she knew. Being an acting school, PhoenixTail High does feel like a circus. Full of freaks who think they can act…and freaky people who actually can act really well. I’d be jealous of them, if they weren’t so horrid.
“Remember, make friends,” my mother had cooed but how can I when everybody’s known each other and been together already for a year? But making friends never did come naturally to a ‘little rich girl’ like me.’ Oh, look there she is; The Little Rich Girl who doesn’t need any friends ‘cause she’s got daddy’s money’.
“Ezme Winters…Ezme Winters…” That name catches my attention, unusual for a place out in the countryside like this new school of mine. A mousey-brown haired short girl (perhaps about my age-but her height deceives) walks timidly to the large teacher who is calling her. Hmm, mousey by appearance, and mousey by nature it seems too. Nice metaphor, I’ll remember it for later life.
“Ezme, I called you to talk about your decision to change names…”
“Francis-It’s my first name…” She trails off and stares absently into space, as though seeing scenes from a hidden life being played out right in front of her eyes. “FrankiE W…” she muses so quietly that I have to step forward out of the shadow I was in to hear it.
“Very well,” lady says curtly, before suddenly spotting me. Gosh, in a new school, the amount of people who don’t look at me; it’s like I’m a ghost!
“Ah, it’s you! Come this way, we have a lot of things to organize…”