The first day of a new school is always the turning point for a lot of kids at school. Children, unconsciously assort themselves into groups, the popular group, the wannabe group, the geek group, and the who are they? Group.
Horringer Court Middle School is where I begin my story. After four sheltered years at my primary school, I arrived to this middle school unaware of colloquial terms for prostitutes such as "slut" and "slag" and I actually remember thanking someone for calling me a porn star about a week in.
In the first few weeks, I categorized the people I would try to avoid. The popular girls for one, they were beautiful and incredibly popular with boys and I did not want drama and knew I would never have to mentality to sustain friendships with any of them. I tried to avoid the bullies but I achieved nothing with my attempts. Boys, I don't necessarily remember being a problem - mostly because they acted as though I didn't exist. Not that I'm complaining now of course, most of those guys now work at Waitrose.
The worst part about first days, was having to eat lunch by yourself. It's a clichéd moment in a movie and can make an audience in the cinema sympathetic but in real life - you're the target for unwanted food and sometimes cutlery.
The second day was just as bad, but I remember it mostly because for the first time in two days another student spoke to me without it being an insult or demand. Geography was my lesson before break time and we were assigned to sit in alphabetical order, since the classes were small it never appeared that we did sit in any order but boy, girl, boy, girl. I was assigned to sit next to Tom; I didn't pay attention to him on the first day. I was probably mentally praying that the fire alarm would ring or something just so I could get out. I was never good at geography and my attention within in the class quickly decreased when my partner talked to me. He was taller than a few of the boys in the year, played football whenever he wasn't in class and had a tendency to steal my scented gel pens and suck out the ink.
Every lesson, Tom would ask to borrow my coco cola scented gel pen and when I got it back at the end, half of the ink had been sucked out. My father was not pleased at all when I asked him to buy me more. I liked that Tom would talk to me, not very many people did. He tried to convince me that the scented pens tasted just like they smelt. I remember licking a pop corn scented one and almost vomiting all over our desk. I tried to explain to him that the only reason he thought they smelt like they tasted was because he could smell the scent as he drank the ink. After holding his nose and licking a strawberry he left my pens alone.